I am a Jamaican man living in North America, the longer I stay here, the higher the probability that I never will return to my beloved island. Whether though the conveniences or the mounting responsibilities, First World countries put immigrants in a choke hold that is sometimes impossible to escape. As a result, my peoples are scattered all over the world, the diaspora has touched faraway lands and disseminated pieces of ourselves around the globe.
The Jamaican exceptionalism, style, music and our food are deeply entrenched in the world’s popular culture. As a matter of fact, Reggae music has been added to UNESCO’s list of the intangible cultural heritage of humanity and our ackee and saltfish was ranked by the National Geographic as second among the world’s best national dishes. If you’re wondering what dish copped the number one spot, it was the USA’s hamburger. Something about that win reminds me of America’s Justin Gatlin, the two-time doping cheat, crossing the finish line before the legendary Usain Bolt at the World Championships – it just didn’t feel right.
Connection Through Food
As more Jamaicans migrate, motivated in large part by employment opportunities abroad, we take a part of the country with us to farin. I’ve lived in the UK and the US for several years, and it still makes me smile whenever I see my countrymen carrying on the tradition of driving with the Jamaica dice dangling around their rear-view mirrors, or people proudly draping themselves in the Jamaican flag. Though not so unambiguous, I too find myself trying to stay linked to my country of birth. I keep this connection through food.
I visit Jamaica about twice per year and whenever it’s time to leave, my mother packs my suitcase with many bags of frozen ackee. To the untrained eye of the TSA personnel rummaging through my luggage, it may look like just weird yellow pieces of fruit. The truth however, is much more profound. Ackee is a reminder of who I am – it comforts me to know that when the world frowns at immigrants and blames us for society’s ills, there one place under the sun where I truly belong. Maintaining this strong sense of self is very important to the travelling man. The psychologist, Erik Erikson, who coined the phrase “identity crisis” once wrote, in the social jungle of human existence, there is no feeling of being alive without a sense of identity. Jamaica is my identity, and Ackee is uniquely Jamaican…Although, to be fair, neither Ackee nor its pot-mate, saltfish, is originally from Jamaica.
Ackee is a reminder of who I am – it comforts me to know that when the world frowns at immigrants and blames us for society’s ills, there one place under the sun where I truly belong.
Saltfish became a popular Jamaican staple during the colonial period. The fish is not native to our seas, it is imported into the Island from countries like Norway and Canada. Plantation owners shipped it in to have a cheap source of protein for their slaves. After the scourge of physical slavery ended, the fish made the leap onto the free man’s plate. Back then, it was still a very cheap product and considered ‘poor people food’. Years after Independence, the price of salt fish increased, but governments subsidized the cost to give low-income households continued access to the fish. Or more accurately, to keep the low-income electorate voting for them.
The subsidies however did not last. The sliding Jamaican dollar, huge budget deficits and the IMF’s structural adjustment policies made subsidies a thing of the past. Over time, the price of salt fish sky-rocketed. It has more than doubled in just the past few years. Which is why we are currently witnessing its gourmet rebranding from “Poor people food” to “Rich people someting”. In my opinion, getting the local masses off salt fish might not be the worst thing in the world. The high salt content in one ounce of saltfish almost doubles the recommended maximum daily sodium intake. Plus, you may call me silly, but I believe that the ingredients to our national dish should at least be produced by the nation. This is one of the main reasons I try as much as possible to pair ackee with some meatless options like callaloo, spinach or other foods that are actually grown in Jamaica.
Global Competition
According to the Statistical Institute of Jamaica, STATIN, Jamaica’s international trade deficit has worsened by 12 per cent for the current 2018 review period. This means that spending on imports has increased at a faster pace than the country’s earnings from exports. We have opened our borders to competition from more mature markets and this globalization in trade has ravished Jamaica’s local production. Therefore, it is important to buy locally grown products, even if it is a little more expensive than imported items. In the end, we must protect our farmers because the simple truth is that country man’s machete cannot compete with the foreign man’s machines.
The Ackee tree, on the other hand, though not originally from Jamaica, can be found all over the island. The fruit is thought to have been brought to the Caribbean from West Africa during the days of slavery. Sometimes I wonder if, like me, early slaves would eat ackee and become nostalgic. Maybe the black kings and queens stolen from their native lands in West Africa, raped and beaten into submission, would eat ackee and the fruit would remind them of who they once were. Maybe the taste of ackee would transport them back to happier times. A time when they would cook and share meals with beloved friends and smiling family. A period when they were surrounded by natural beauty and a calm peace of mind. Maybe amid the hardships of slavery, ackee would make them think of the days before men became devils. A time when all human beings were both physically and mentally free. In some ways, this is what Ackee does to me.
Richard Coore writes about politics, philosophy, food and travel. He has written for the Sunday Herald, the X-News and won a Caribbean award for an animation screenplay. He lives in Atlanta where he wears a bandana in his house but never pants. Richard completed an accounting degree in Jamaica, an MBA in the UK and is currently wrapping up a doctorate in the US. His debut novel is a political thriller entitled, ‘Revolution Jamrock’.