Feeling Chinese Jamaican

This is going to be my last post in my "Jamaica" series. There's still a lot I am processing, but I may just pull the "classic" academic move and save it for an article. Truthfully, I would like to write about my experiences in a more formal way--as well as write about the Chinese Jamaican diaspora, so whether I return to this topic on this blog, or not, I know it is a subject I'll continue to write about, in some form, later.

But I want to return to the question that my cousin asked of me (twice) and that I have been asking about myself, probably for as long as I can remember:

Am I Jamaican? Do I feel Jamaican?

Or perhaps more specificaly:

Am I Chinese Jamaican...do I feel Chinese Jamaican?


Yes, when I was touring around Kingston with my family. For example, in the above photo, we went by the Catholic boy's school St. George (which is now co-ed) that my uncles (all 6 of them) attended. And seeing all these places and having my various relatives share their memories about living in Jamaica, made me feel very connected to this place.


And when we all climbed up Dunn's River Falls together, as touristy as this is, it is also wonderfully fun and is something that locals also do from time to time (in fact, there is a separate "locals" rate, which my Uncle "N" got for us, but the non-accented members of the family (including yours truly) were under strict instructions not to speak until we were past the checkpoint).


Perhaps most of all, it was the meals we shared that made me feel connected to my family and to being Chinese Jamaican. Food, and more specifically, the times that made us gather together as a family around food, is always what I associate with being Chinese Jamaican. The photo above is of a jerk place in Ocho Rios that we were taken to by a local friend (that's the back of my cousin "A's" head in the photo--"A" wanted me to mention him in my blog, and I told him that while I try to keep this pseudonymous and didn't want to include family photos, I figured only those nearest and dearest to "A" would recognize the back of his head, and he'll enjoy his very small moment of fame in this blog).

When "W" asked me in Montego Bay whether my ideas of being Chinese Jamaican had changed after a week in Jamaica--whether I felt any closer to being Chinese Jamaican, I told him that while I really didn't feel connected to the island in and of itself (for that I'd need to either go back in time or spend a lot more time living in Jamaica, preferably Kingston), the moments when I felt most strongly connected, when I feel Chinese Jamaican, are moments spent in the company of my family. And really, I didn't need to go to Jamaica to figure this out. This has always been the case. I felt it when I went to Toronto for my cousin's wedding. Or during my Uncle's memorial service in California. Or even just talking to family members on the phone. I may not completely identify as Chinese Jamaican, but the majority of my family does. And above race and gender and a host of other "identity" factors, there is that--there is my family connection and identification. And we are a very mixed bunch, living in various part of the Americas over the last century. And so, yes, at the end of the day, I feel like a part of my family, which means, I do feel and am Chinese Jamaican.

"Once you go to Jamaica, you know Jamaica"

Hello "Mixed Race America" readers--I have returned from my trip to Jamaica, and I'm not sure where to begin. I feel like I could write a week's worth of posts based on the things I saw and the experiences I had, and which I'm still digesting and mulling over.

Interestingly enough, the day after I returned, I saw a commercial sponsored by the Jamaican tourism board that showed images of happy American tourists (or perhaps I should say "white" tourists who may be from Canada, the U.S., Europe, Australia, or New Zealand) amidst verdant landscapes and beautiful waterscapes, much like this image below (which I found on the Jamaica tourism website):



[The thing about this image is, yes it is a classically "tourist" image of Jamaica, but there truly ARE scenes like this--lush scenes of jaw-dropping beauty, it will make your heart ache]

The commercial showed various tourists enjoying vacation-related things that one will find in Jamaica: reggae, steel drum, fishing, dancing, frolicking in the water and on sandy beaches, all with a cover of Bob Marley's "One Love" playing in the background and a tagline that reads: "Once you go to Jamaica, you know Jamaica."

And this is the question I have been asking myself, even without seeing this commercial: now that I've been to Jamaica, do I feel more Jamaican? This is the question my cousin posed to me on both the first and last day of my trip there: do I feel Jamaican? Have I found the missing piece of the puzzle I've been searching for? Do I now, know, what it means to be Chinese Jamaican?

I can't give a simple answer to any of these questions--and I will be writing more about this in future posts. But for now I will say this: I have gone to Jamaica and I do feel, now, in a way much different than before, that I do know Jamaica in a way that I never did before.

Returning to Jamaica

Back in October, I wrote about my Uncle Frank (October 22, 2007) and the significant impact he had on my life, particularly as a mentor/role-model for me of an anti-racist activist. I also wrote about going back to California to attend his memorial service and being surrounded by my large extended family, who are part of the Chinese Jamaican diaspora (November 3, 2007).


And today I just booked my plane ticket to go to Jamaica to take part in a final farewell to my Uncle Frank: the scattering of his ashes in his hometown of Kingston. It will be my first trip to Jamaica as an adult, although my mother reminds me that I've been twice as a toddler (and that there are photos of me splashing about in Dunns River Falls--but of course I was 2 and have no memory of this whatsoever, although there is evidence in the form of photos). It will be a family reunion, of sorts, since several cousins and aunts/uncles will also be coming to help fulfill my Uncle's last request.

I do wonder about it--this last request of his--to be taken back to the place of his birth and his upbringing. He lived more of his life outside of Jamaica than inside it and, to the best of my knowledge, never seriously contemplated settling there after obtaining his degrees in North America (and certainly not after he started a family). I wonder about the tug of Jamaica on my Uncle--that he identified so intensely as Jamaican that he wanted his remains to be there instead of in the home he had known for almost 2/3 of his adult life.

My Uncle's allegiance and identification with Jamaica makes me think about my own conception of regional and national affiliation. I have already ruminated on this in the post "Proud to be an American" (sorry for so many cross-link listings!) but it does seem like this is the question I keep returning to: where is my national/regional/cultural allegiance and how strong is it?

For my Uncle, he would have told you that being Jamaican was in his blood (and he wouldn't have cared if you quoted anti-essentialist rhetoric at him). His license plate on his car read "rahtid," he cheered for the Jamaican soccer (excuse me, football) team every chance he got, the Jamaican flag and variations of it (the Jamaican colors of black, green and yellow) adorned his home, Reggae music (and I don't mean Bob Marley--no disrespect intended, but my family tends to scoff at Marley and think he's popular with non-Jamaican folk mainly) would blast from his car, and the foods he most craved were those of his childhood: stew peas, ackee with saltfish, and ox-tail.

My Uncle was proud to be Jamaican. And he never qualified it. He didn't say he was proud to be a Chinese Jamaican or a naturalized American-Jamaican-of-Chinese descent. For him, plain and simple, he was Jamaican.

I wonder what I will feel when I set foot there. Will I feel like I, too, am Jamaican, or at least part of a larger Chinese Jamaican diaspora? Guess I'll have to wait and see what happens next month.