Emancipation Day stories
Published:Tuesday | August 3, 2010 | 12:00 AM
Roman Palmer walked dejectedly out of National Heroes Park in Kingston yesterday morning. He had harboured big dreams of being first in line for grand festivities at the park, only to be told that no such celebration was planned.
"Den nuh Emancipation Day?" he asked me on his way out. I just happened to have been standing outside the park and had no idea what he was upset about, but answered him nonetheless.
"Den how wi fi have Emancipation Day and nuh drum nah knock yah so?" he asked, his eyes ripe with anger.
"Er ... ," was all I could say, having been caught off-guard by the question. He shook his head and looked me over, as if I were part of the problem he was facing.
Roy is from Hanover, but has been visiting his sister, Una, who lives in Allman Town, for the past week. He figured Emancipation Day would have been the highlight of the visit since there, he assumed, would be a big party at nearby Heroes Park to celebrate the occasion.
So, early that morning, the 60-something year-old got dressed up in an orange and black chequered suit with top-hat to match, walked over to Heroes Park and stood around waiting for the celebrations to begin. His hopes were dashed, however, when, after waiting for close to two hours and not seeing anyone looking remotely festive show up, he approached a man watering plants on the property and received the bad news.
"Not a ting nuh deh gwaan. Not even likke fee-fee nah blow," said Roy, shaking his head.
I asked him what he planned to do with the rest of his day.
"Mi haffi go siddung ah yard and stare inna Una mawning whole day now. Mi did happy fi di likkle sporting to yuh know, cho!" he said before storming off.
Looking for bob marley
Just then, a couple walked in, each with a camera and both sweating heavily. They spoke with a thick accent and after they said hello, I asked where they were from.
"We come from Germany," said the man, wiping sweat from his brow. "We come to look at the Heroes Parks because we were told it is very really nice here so much," he said, nodding and smiling. With that, both he and the woman waved goodbye and walked inside.
Soon, a leggy blonde woman walked into the park and immediately over to where I was standing. Some distance behind her was a short man carrying a bottle of water and a huge knapsack.
"Hi!" said the woman. I returned the greeting. "This is Jamaica's Heroes Park, right?" she asked. I told her she was in the right place and asked her where she was from.
"Oh, we're from Canada," she said, smiling. My husband and I are staying in St Andrew and our friends told us today would be a great day to see the city, since it's a holiday," she said. Her husband caught up with her at that point, but went immediately to stand in the shade of a tree. He, too, was sweating profusely.
"So, it's really nice here, isn't it?" said the woman. I told her I thought so too. "So where's Bob Marley buried?" she asked. Now, it took more than a few minutes to explain first, that Bob Marley was buried elsewhere, and second, that he wasn't an official National Hero.
"I don't get it," she said and then signalled for her husband to come over. "This guy's saying Bob Marley isn't buried here, that he's somewhere on the north coast or something," she said. The husband stopped in his tracks. "You've got to be kidding!" he said, looking at me with great disgust. It appeared the couple had made the trip primarily to visit the reggae great's grave, so they were more than a little peeved at the unexpected news.
"Thanks, anyway," said the woman and the two walked off, the man muttering something about having to carry the heavy knapsack all the way to the city for nothing.