Michael Reckord, ContributorARTIE AND I were sitting on his verandah the other afternoon discussing the ebb and flow of the island's fortunes when his telephone rang. The topic at the time of the ringing was the sparkling tourism industry, the only bright spot in the dark cloud of negative events casting a long shadow over the island.
Artie went inside to answer the phone but returned moments later, his hand covering the lower part of his cordless handset.
"This guy who I don't know," he said, "is calling from England with questions about Jamaica. Seems to be thinking about coming here."
"You mean as a tourist?"
"I doubt it. He's calling from prison."
"What!"
"Yes. His accent's hard to understand you know how working class British talk but I believe he's one of those Jamaican convicts who have been offered an abbreviated sentence if they agree to repatriation."
"Why is he talking to you?"
"Don't know, Dads," Artie said. "Listen in, nuh. Maybe we'll find out."
Artie handed me the phone and went inside to talk on the extension. Here's the dialogue which ensued.
Artie: How did you get my number, sir?
Man: From yer mate, Squeegie. 'member 'im?
Artie: 'Squeegie' Brown, who was at school with me?
Man: 's right. 'e's been in prison wi' me fer the past couple o' years.
Artie: What for?
Man: 'e got mixed up with the bleedin' drugs, an' all.
Artie: Sorry to hear. How can I help you?
Man: Well, Squeegie an' me, we're thinkin o' comin to Jamaica, see. Anythink to get outa 'ere.
Artie: Prison, you mean?
Man: Yeh. But the thing is, I 'aven't been to Jamaica fer quite a while, and I wanna know 'ow things are there now.
Artie: Well, some things are good, some not so good. But it's better than being in prison.
Man: Could yer be a bit more specific, like? Wot's good, wot's bad?
Artie: The weather's fine. And millions of tourists came last year to enjoy the sun, sea and sand.
Man: Yeh? So wot about the other 'S?'
Artie: (chuckling) That, too. According to our Tourist Board chairman, it was a record year for visitors, and this year's figures are looking even better than last year's.
Man: I'm not interested in any bleedin tourism figures, y'know. I wanna 'ear about crime figures.
Artie: I happen to have a newspaper with the latest right here. They're not good.
Man: Wot d'yer mean 'not good'?
Artie: There have been more than 600 murders so far this year, with 400-odd persons killed by the gun, 70-odd by the knife and 30-odd were chopped to death. More than 50 women were killed, nearly 20 more than were murdered at this time last year. Gang feuds accounted for 60-plus murders, the same number holds for robberies and nearly 20 murders were drug-related. Fifteen taxi drivers have been killed to date.
Man: Not bad, not bad.
Artie: What!
Man: I'm a criminal, wot d'yer expect? 'ow many coppers got it?
Artie: Six policemen killed so far.
Man: 's bleedin marvellous, mate! I reckon yer can look for me in the next batch o' deportees arriving from Britain.
Artie: Where in Jamaica were you born? I hope you have family coming to.
Man: Oh, I wasn't born there, mate. I was born 'ere. I'm British.
Artie: That means you won't be coming here. Only Jamaicans can be repatriated to Jamaica.
Man: Don't worry about me. I'm in the drug business, I can buy a Jamaican birth certificate and passport.
Artie turned off the tape recorder and looked at me. "What do you think, Dads? Will he be on the next plane to Jamaica?"
I shook my head. "He won't make it. With that accent, he'll never convince anyone he's Jamaican."
