If there is one thing I have really missed during the lockdown due to the pandemic, it’s traveling. Especially with my favorite friend who, like me, prefers to avoid the tourist traps and venture into unknown territories. Allow me to reminisce a bit …
There was the time we went to the Bahamas for my 30th birthday. We rented a car to get to the other side of the island and visit the Bacardi Rum distillery. But at every turn, something caught our eye and we branched off into a side trip. One time it was a thrift store; another time, a whole neighborhood that was half-built. It looked like all the workers walked off the job and never came back. We made up scenarios about the demise — from worker revolt to alien abduction.
Nevertheless, it seemed odd to us that one tourist attraction we’d set out to visit was so hard to find. It wasn’t even on the map. We wound through neighborhoods and business districts, getting lost and not minding one bit. When we finally got to the distillery, limos with darkened windows were entering the security gate and there was a flurry of excitement.
We looked at each other and drove up to the gate. The security guard seemed surprised to see us and told us that the distillery was closed for a private party. And that was that. We had left the resort pool and endless Shipwreck drinks (coconut rum and ice cream) back at the resort for this?
Nothing to do but go back and suffer through another Shipwreck or five. We returned to the resort, called the car company to pick up our rented wheels, and prepared ourselves for another day in paradise by the pool. The car rental guy came to pick up the car and enthusiastically asked if we were having a good time on the island.
We shared our Bacardi experience with him and how disappointed we were. He shuffled his feet and looked down trying to find the words. “The people who live here don’t really like that place,” he said almost apologetically.
We wanted to know the whole story but our car rental contract had expired. Then he asked if we’d like for him to give us a tour.
“Don’t you have to get the car back?” we asked.
“We’re on island time,” he said, laughing as he hopped in our car and waved us in, introducing himself as Jahni.
We told Jahni that we wanted an authentic tour of the island and the Bacardi story. Not touristy stuff. We wanted the real deal.
Our first stop was Jahni’s neighborhood. He drove us by his home, pointing out a bright blue house. He told us that his family had running water but most of the houses didn’t.
“Where do they get their water?” we asked.
Jahni took us to the well. To us, it was beautiful. Lush foliage surrounded the area, and it smelled fresh, like summer rain. He explained that younger Bahamians would fetch water for the elder ones. The trek was too hard for them because the well wasn’t very close to the houses.
The next stop was a political rally. Jahni stopped and motioned to us, “Come. Come. These are my friends.”
People were waving signs and someone was speaking into a microphone. We were welcomed enthusiastically, not fully understanding that this type of event was rare. Jahni explained that tourism supplied jobs, but it also discouraged rallies because they might disrupt tourism. It began to dawn on me that Bahamians might not like tourists very much. Jahni assured us that they loved the tourists because tourists meant jobs. But the crowd at the rally wanted more of the tourism dollars to preserve the culture and improve living conditions.
That brought us back to the Bacardi Rum distillery. Jahni said the disdain for the distillery by Bahamians had to do with Cuba. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the real problem. I recently tried to research the period between 1996 and 2021. There is a gaping hole from 1993 to 2013 — at least from my search. During this time, acquisitions were made and Bacardi Limited was formed.
I did find a mention of a Washington lobbyist in the late ’90s proposing a bill to deny trademark protection to products of Cuban businesses expropriated after the Cuban revolution. In 2009, Bacardi operations closed in Nassau, Bahamas. The Bacardi Buena Vista estate became John Watling’s distillery in 2013, founded by sixth-generation members of the Bacardi family and named after a 17th-century pirate.
I can’t help but wonder if the name choice is a cruel joke, as tourists are directed to certain areas and activities away from areas where Bahamian culture and resources are being plundered. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Julie Ray is the Flyer calendar editor.
