"Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself has said
This is my own, my native land!"

GEOF BROWN

The poet Sir Walter Scott in "The Lay of the Last Minstrel" captures in those immortal words the mystic bond between people and the land of their birth. No one understands that mystic better than a Jamaican who, by force of whatever circumstance, is compelled to live abroad. The successful New York politician, Una Clarke, American-based Jamaican native, put it this way on Nationwide radio this week in acknowledging her never-failing interest in all matters "back home": "I am on here, but I was born there". Jamaicans born here but on there, tend to be remarkably successful in their pursuits in various countries. They thus necessarily bond well with their adopted lands. But rarely does any substitute bond supersede the bond with the land of their birth.

That fact explains why far too many Jamaicans living abroad, whether permanently or temporarily, are these days feeling so much pain as they "cry for the beloved country". Just this week I heard a caller to the radio show Perkins on Line, bemoaning how the headlines in the Toronto media about Jamaica's world-beating murder rate pushed the Jeremiah Wright vs Barack Obama saga off the front pages, and became lead stories there. Perhaps the title of this piece should be "The pain and the pride". For in the same breath that we rejoice in producing the two fastest track athletes in the world in the persons of Asafa Powell and Veronica Campbell (as well as many other world beaters), we also claim the world's leading murder rate, ahead of Beirut in the worst days of its infamy.

It would be very difficult for Jamaicans who have never lived abroad for any appreciable period, to understand the pain of Jamaicans in the diaspora as they face the disastrous news from "back home". It feels worse, somehow, to be so distant from it all. For even where, as is now possible, Jamaicans living abroad have direct access to the native news media and participate in local radio talk shows, much understanding of local happenings is still left to their imagination. And that can and does produce distortions so that the concern of the foreign-based Jamaican may be exaggerated out of proportion to the extent of the problem. My own experience, as illustration of such distortions, took place when I, as a Canadian citizen, was on a visit to Detroit, itself at the time, the "murder capital, USA".

A Canadian minister of government was murdered circa 1970 and the news made the headlines in Detroit. Now Canada then was just about one of the safest places to live on the planet. Yet here were my Detroit colleagues wondering how I could feel safe living in a country where they murdered government ministers. I have repeated this story several times in this column, for it illustrates how headlines in news media distant from the actual scene of events, can give absolutely false impressions of reality. I had a difficult time trying to convince the Detroit news readers that Canada was a hundred times safer than the USA, let alone Detroit itself. The murder of the minister was about as common as lightning striking the same building every day for a month. Indeed, there was none such, before or since.

The point is, however, that the distortions in news coverage concerning the state of things back home in the native land, is no consolation to Jamaicans living in the diaspora. I recall how painful it was for me living in Canada in the 70s when the unprecedented murder wave saw some 800 people murdered in one year of political strife in the Michael Manley era. Daily I was confronted with queries about the terrible carnage in Jamaica. My head was often hung in shame. Yet, a close friend back home was assuring me in letters that things were not as bad as they seemed in the foreign press. Well, it was a case of "tell that to the marines" as far as his reassurances went. And that explains why many Jamaicans living away, will not, and have no intention of ever living in or even visiting their native land. And they feel real pain. For the tug of Jamaica is like no other tug - I make bold to say.

Let me, however, address my Jamaican readers in the diaspora directly. Much of my correspondence comes from you. Take some courage: come touch base by a visit to your native land for a dose of truth. Of course, there is minimal risk, but the odds favour your being about as safe as visiting tourists. You probably know that the fatality risk among millions of foreign tourists visiting the island yearly is so low as to be virtually negligible. Most of the murder statistics here relate to people who know one another, either in gangs or in domestic strife. And some fatalities which appear unlikely, and simply random, in fact have hidden stories which are not, or cannot be revealed.

If you observe the same safety rules you would in, say, a visit to New York, the chance of your being a target is much less than that of a complete stranger. For be sure your relatives and friends will be very careful to protect you. You will also be surprised at the great number of your fellow diaspora residents who keep coming back safely year after year to soak up the joys that only your native Jamaica can give. Trust me. Come home. It will be good therapy for your pain.

browngeof@hotmail.com

University Players gear up for Césaire's A Tempest

Anita Baker gives the best she's got at St Lucia Jazz Fest

VP Records scoops up Mighty's Cornerstone