No Problem, Mon

Beach view, Negril, Jamaica

Just got back from a four-day Girls Vacation to Jamaica. No children, no men, no cooking, no cleaning, no laundry, no driving--for four whole days. Clear, jewel-colored water; fine, white sand; alcohol and food on-demand and nothing to do. Absolute bliss. I discovered a love of snorkeling and spent at least an hour watching the way sunlight ran across the rippled, sandy bottom of the ocean. Others in my party enjoyed the culture and nightlife of Negril, doing their best to learn a few Patois phrases and Jamaican hand gestures.

What struck me about Jamaica, aside from the breathtaking beauty of the countryside and ocean, was the authenticity of the Caribbean vibe. Stories of the laid back and chill nature of Caribbean cities, not to mention Reggae’s everything’s all right attitude, seemed exaggerated. No place could be so idyllic, so stress free.

Me, getting ready to snorkel

But visiting Negril and spending time with the locals, I discovered that “No problem, Mon” is more a way of life than a glib indigenous statement. It’s true that not much is a problem and no one is in a hurry. Even the nightlife is slow and easy--people smoking, standing around listening to music and leisurely drinking their Red Stripe. Places like Jamaica seem too good to be true, an impossible last place on earth where people aren’t rudely tromping on one another in order to arrive at their destination two minutes earlier. It was beautiful, serene and authentically easy.


And speaking of easy.... When a person is funny, Jamaicans say, “You are not easy, Mon.” An interesting turn of phrase: to roll along in an easy way, to go along with the conversation, is laid back. Humor puts a wrinkle in the fabric of our communication, one that makes us stop and laugh or stop and think. To the Jamaicans, this is “not easy” which makes a certain sort of sense.

Here comes the real conundrum, though. Why do people go to places like Jamaica, buy all the tourist swag and then wear it while they are still there? It’s not impressive that you have shorts on that say Jamaica when the rest of us are in Jamaica with you. We are all here and we are not impressed by your gift store goods. 

Take for example the gentleman who bought a Jamaican t-shirt, complete with large picture of a marijuana leaf on the front; shorts imprinted with “Jamaica” on the pocket; a Rasta hat in the colors of the Jamaican flag and matching bracelet and wore all this on a boat trip to a small, off-coast island: is he trying to impress someone? And who would that someone be? Is he trying to look like a local? That seems absurd: the locals don’t wear any of that stuff, nor could they afford it. Is it just consumer exuberance caused by being in such a dreamy place?

In addition, why would a person want to buy pants with “Jamaica” emblazoned across the butt? Those pants aren’t giving the country any respect and neither is the person wearing them. We’ve already covered the silliness of wearing such pants while still visiting the country, but then why wear them at home??? Here’s my thought: If you carry beautiful memories of the country in your heart, you don’t need to have the name screen-printed on your ass.

“Maybe they can’t remember,” Jim said when we were discussing this. “I can’t remember crap. And if I’d been to Jamaica, I sure as hell would want to remember that. So I’d buy something with the name on it. And the date, too, if I could find it. And if they could put MY name on it, too, that would be awesome because then I’d have everything I needed to remember in one place!”


Anyone care to explain tourist consumerism to me, especially the country-on-your-ass pants? I really want to understand.

Jamaica Lion of Judah Pants--even these are better than the ones I saw on the beach