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Becoming a Britisher
published: Saturday | July 21, 2007
Hartley Neita
My early education taught me more about England than Jamaica. The only things I was taught about Jamaica were the names of the parishes and their capitals, the names of the railway stations from Kingston to Montego Bay, from Spanish Town to Port Antonio, and from May Pen to Frankfield. I also knew the names of our rivers, that only one ran from west to east, the Plantain Garden River, the others ran from north to south and south to north, that the longest river was in Clarendon, the Rio Minho, and that Black River was navigable for 17 miles; by canoe or a small motorboat, of course.
Of yes, we learned that Jamaica was discovered by Christopher Columbus in 1492 and captured from the Spaniards by the British in 1655. And we had to learn the names of our governors from then, including one that was a pirate.
On the other hand, I knew the difference between the United Kingdom, the British Isles, and Great Britain, and the names of the counties in England. These names were further impressed on my young mind when the West Indies toured England. As with Jamaica, I also knew the names of the rivers in the British Isles.
In that early time of my life, I heard that Marcus Garvey and Alexander Bustamante were scamps, and Norman Manley was a pipe dreamer trying to get self-government for Jamaica. I was told that to be an independent country there had to be an army, a navy and an air force, which we did not have, and we also had to have natural resources such as iron and coal.
From Our Correspondent
It was later in my life that I learned the names of Jamaica’s many smaller towns and villages through the pages of The Gleaner which carried stories ‘From Our Correspondent’. When I played cricket, too, I became familiar with these places through travelling to cricket ovals all over the island.
The first time I went to England I was 28 years of age. All the famous sights, the Tower of London, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Trafalgar Square and Buckingham Palace were familiar to me. I was with a group of five colonials like myself – from British Guiana, Nigeria, Hong Kong and the Southern Cameroon – who knew these sights. They, too, had been nurtured as black Britishers. We wore saxone and church shoes made in England, and wrote with Waterman fountain pens, also made in England. We were taught that British goods were the best.
We soon discovered that English-men and women never travelled beyond their immediate districts. We bathed every day; they did not. The food in their restaurants was tasteless. At that time, houses and office buildings had fireplaces which belched smoke through chimneys on their roofs. By the end of the day, our handkerchiefs were black.
Friendly Jamaica
Coming from friendly Jamaica, I was taken aback when I discovered, very quickly, that my cheerful good mornings to strangers on the train or bus were not acknowledged. I remember seeing a mother’s embarrassment when her four-year-old child ran to my Nigerian friend and rubbed his face with her finger and being surprised that his blackness did not come off.
Much later in my stay there, I was congratulated on my perfect speech. “You speak our language, so well.”
I was tempted to answer as I subsequently learned that Bobby Muirhead did. “I find English an easy language. I learned it on the boat while coming to your country.”
published: Saturday | July 21, 2007
Hartley Neita
My early education taught me more about England than Jamaica. The only things I was taught about Jamaica were the names of the parishes and their capitals, the names of the railway stations from Kingston to Montego Bay, from Spanish Town to Port Antonio, and from May Pen to Frankfield. I also knew the names of our rivers, that only one ran from west to east, the Plantain Garden River, the others ran from north to south and south to north, that the longest river was in Clarendon, the Rio Minho, and that Black River was navigable for 17 miles; by canoe or a small motorboat, of course.
Of yes, we learned that Jamaica was discovered by Christopher Columbus in 1492 and captured from the Spaniards by the British in 1655. And we had to learn the names of our governors from then, including one that was a pirate.
On the other hand, I knew the difference between the United Kingdom, the British Isles, and Great Britain, and the names of the counties in England. These names were further impressed on my young mind when the West Indies toured England. As with Jamaica, I also knew the names of the rivers in the British Isles.
In that early time of my life, I heard that Marcus Garvey and Alexander Bustamante were scamps, and Norman Manley was a pipe dreamer trying to get self-government for Jamaica. I was told that to be an independent country there had to be an army, a navy and an air force, which we did not have, and we also had to have natural resources such as iron and coal.
From Our Correspondent
It was later in my life that I learned the names of Jamaica’s many smaller towns and villages through the pages of The Gleaner which carried stories ‘From Our Correspondent’. When I played cricket, too, I became familiar with these places through travelling to cricket ovals all over the island.
The first time I went to England I was 28 years of age. All the famous sights, the Tower of London, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Trafalgar Square and Buckingham Palace were familiar to me. I was with a group of five colonials like myself – from British Guiana, Nigeria, Hong Kong and the Southern Cameroon – who knew these sights. They, too, had been nurtured as black Britishers. We wore saxone and church shoes made in England, and wrote with Waterman fountain pens, also made in England. We were taught that British goods were the best.
We soon discovered that English-men and women never travelled beyond their immediate districts. We bathed every day; they did not. The food in their restaurants was tasteless. At that time, houses and office buildings had fireplaces which belched smoke through chimneys on their roofs. By the end of the day, our handkerchiefs were black.
Friendly Jamaica
Coming from friendly Jamaica, I was taken aback when I discovered, very quickly, that my cheerful good mornings to strangers on the train or bus were not acknowledged. I remember seeing a mother’s embarrassment when her four-year-old child ran to my Nigerian friend and rubbed his face with her finger and being surprised that his blackness did not come off.
Much later in my stay there, I was congratulated on my perfect speech. “You speak our language, so well.”
I was tempted to answer as I subsequently learned that Bobby Muirhead did. “I find English an easy language. I learned it on the boat while coming to your country.”