I often try to be engaging when faced with people ‘selling’ things. I am probably the person the Jehovah’s Witnesses wish they never meet when the knock on doors. I would have them in a long conversation, lasting perhaps hours, as I explored as many aspects of their activities. We’d need to get to know each other better, of course, so staying for tea and maybe a spot of lunch would be natural. So, when I visited Expo Jamaica yesterday afternoon.
I started my buttering up before I went in. I reached the entrance gate and a man said “Where you band?” I told him I didn’t have one and he pointed me to a LIME van where I would spend J$600 to get my entrance wristband. A man from Jampro was also trying to help me, but then went totally into a trance. He was bitten by the ‘I must pay attention to this dignitary getting out of his car and ignore the person I was talking to’ bug. Once he’d flounced off and smoothed the three yard walk of Minister Pickersgill to the side gate, I tried to engage him again. “You were saying?” He’s lost the plot completely. I grinned and shook my head. Oh, what a little deference does to your life. I had my mission ahead. The ‘band’ man greeted me again, and told me “Good morning, again.” It was nearly 12.30pm, but I was glad for his attentiveness.
I was not surprised that I started chatting up all the vendors. I was probing, gently. First, I met all the ladies manning–is that an oxymoron?–the tables in the ‘hospitality village’, where hotels and tourist activities were being touted. I’m also a sucker for swag. Well, the lady from Mystic Mountain had a snazzy coffee mug that caught my eye. I told her, honestly, that I keep trying to take my daughter to the play park, as she says she wants to go, but each time she prefers to stay put. I was in Ocho Rios the day before and again, she’d opted to stay home hunkered down with her Ma. Admittedly, when I got home from Ochi and my little stop for fruit in Port Maria, my daughter was screaming her head off with two classmate in the pool and a soggy puppy was chasing a football the girls were tossing.
Well, the lady from Mystic Mountain tried to get my daughter’s interest by offering a 20 percent discount voucher and suggesting that I just take the child and say “Here we are!” (I later gave my daughter the mug and voucher and told her the story. She smiled.) I toured the other tables and had a few bits of useful information about some of the north coast hotels. A lady from Chukka Cove tempted me with a prize draw and got my info in exchange. I know that solicitous emails may soon be arriving. My daughter’s also interested in going there to ride horses, or so she’s said. I talked quickly to representatives from Bahia Principe, where I’d stayed already and liked, and Iberostar, where some friends always stay when playing golf tournaments near Montego Bay. Both are all-inclusive hotels and good value for couples and children.
I then tried to enter the exhibition hall, but was waylaid by a lady who told me to start upstairs and then come down, and by the way, stop at her company’s booth for a bag to carry the items I was collecting. Like that. Upstairs, I trotted and was ready to look around at an array of mainly commercial stands. but, I then bumped into some friends, and asked them what was worth seeing. “See it all, but there’s more happening downstairs.
The flooring booth is nice, though.” I had no interest in flooring, so hugged my friend and wished her a great afternoon. Her husband was with her, and his shirt was soaked, and I wondered what he had bumped into. I would learn later what had happened. I moved on to a booth womanned by Scotiabank, which was on my list as they’d been making a big point of touting on Twitter their presence at the Expo. A nice young lady from Christiana branch told me about a few things that would be helpful and asked me to complete a survey–that’s one of the downsides of such events, but I understand the purpose. She pointed me to a Rasta sitting in the corner, manning a juicer. “Get some green juice!” she told me. I obeyed. The Rasta told me and anyone listening about the minerals we needed in our diets and how his juice, which as a blend of a long list including Irish Moss, flax-seed, seaweed and more was put lead in my pencil and an eraser on it too. I was impressed and sipped the juice, which had a little pique to it, from cayenne that was also included. Fortified, I headed on.
I saw a large crowd of people gathered ahead of me, and suspected that food was on offer. That’s always a pull at these events. The little samples help ward off some boredom and naturally saves some dollars that would otherwise be spent in the food court, which was actually outside the hall. Best Dressed Chicken had a stall in the corner.
I knew that Chef Brian Lumley (of restaurant ‘689’ fame) was making occasional appearances, offering delights such as ‘gourmet hotdogs’. Not so, when I sidled up; two nice little chunks of fried chicken in a tasty sauce. I and the other patrons were in finger-licking mood and smiling after our bitefuls.
Another friend nabbed me as I was in mid-bite and told me to come to visit his stall; he’s into some industrial process. We talked a bit about Saturday’s trip to Ochi, which he’d done very early so that he could come back to supervise his stand. I moved on. I was surprised to see a stand for the Jamaica Stock Exchange (JSE). The lady at the table knew me, and greeted me with a lovely warm smile. “You want to buy some stocks, right,” she stated boldly. I told her I had no intention of dipping my toes into the stocks of any of the Jamaican companies, but would prefer to just let my pension fund’s decisions work for me. She laughed. I told her I was an economist, so should know the risks. We chatted a little then I asked her to tell me about the JSE. I was being ‘the foreign investor from Hell’, I told her.
She got a bit flustered but managed to give me some useful tips about the JSE and advice about brokers. The Ministry of Industry and Commerce was there, and a young man wanted to tell me about trade agreements, but also had interesting pamphlets about the logistics hub. He told me about some information seminars being run by the ministry and the Caribbean Maritime Institute and handed me a neat little Frequently Asked Questions sheet about the logistics hub. I asked him if Minister Pickersgill had passed by yet, but he had not. The young man told me that he’d a degree in International Relations and Spanish and that he was getting good opportunities to use his language skills. “Muy bien!” I told him and moved on to look at Jampro’s stand.
Well, as a host of this event, their stand was very empty. The lady looked forlorn and spent time checking her phone. I didn’t have the heart to disturb her and continued on my way.
The rest of the booths did not really interest me, so I passed quickly and headed down to the ‘more happening’ place. I’d seen from above that it was a tighter space, made up of narrow paths with names like ‘Rum Road’ and ‘Reggae Crescent’. The punters were milling around all the stands and trying to weave a path. As I headed downstairs, a young man from LIME put his arm around my shoulder–a pretty risky action in Jamaica when you don’t know someone. He asked me if I wanted to take the ‘Value Challenge’. He pinned a huge button on my shirt and told me breathlessly about how I’d get a one-minute call to show how LIME was much better value that the other people–Digicel.
He pointed me toward one of his female associates. She gave me more information, but I quickly told her to save the spiel because I was a post-paid customer and her offer was not really of much interest. “Well, let’s make the calls, anyway!” she insisted, “Give me the numbers of contacts who have Digicel phones.” What? I told her that I never tried to figure out what carrier my contacts used; that seemed such a waste of time. I guess she knew I was a faux-Jamaican. Didn’t care! People here are well aware of the prefixes that show if you are LIME or Digicel. They are also adept at making a call and hanging up so that they did not have to pay the higher rates (or because they did not have credit to complete the call), and waiting for the called person to call back. Man, I did not have time for that. I remembered my drive to Ochi, the day before, when one of my passengers had gotten a call that was dropped “Why you call and hang up?” I began to understand another silly game that Jamaicans play.
I was impressed at the cost difference from using LIME’s ‘2.99 anytime’ deal, about one-fifth of the Digicel charge, it seems. There’s quite a fued going on between the two companies. I noted inside the hall that Digicel did not have a booth at the Expo. LIME almost had pride of place in the middle of the hall. I had not seen them listed as the principal sponsor, but they were offering free wifi, so I imagine they were well vested in the show.
I ambled around and realised that, as upstairs, food and drink were being big draws. I went to the National Bakery stand, prominent on a corner with an old break cart, jsut for display. “You need to offer the people some bun and cheese!” I suggested to the people manning the stand. A young boy and his mother came up moments later: “He’s looking for bun and cheese,” said the mother. I just looked that the employees. I got some insight into the bakery’s ‘The Bold Ones‘ programme, which aims at finding new entrepreneurs. I also heard about National’s environmental program, trying to use recyclable packaging, using biofuels in their vans. National also use their vehicles for social messaging, including a very vivid campaign against domestic violence. I felt quite positive, but wondered how many companies were trying hard to do more than just make their goods.
I then visited the Jamaica Producers stand, where they were handing out bags of St. Mary’s Chips, pieces of Tortuga rum cake and big cups of Jablum coffee, with syrup. I’d just driven through St. Mary the day before and noted that the chips maker had a factory outlet. I got details about that, for another time. I asked a very energetic young man about the policy of using imported bananas from Dominican Republic and he gave me the official answer in a natural, flowing way. We talked about hurricanes and how the selling of boxes of bananas was a great entrepreneurial opportunity. Apparently, anyone can start doing this, which is now a common sight on Kingston streets. You start off with two free boxes of bananas, after that you buy at wholesale mark down for resale. Some people make a venture of it by on-selling their bananas to others to sell. I did not get an answer about what sort of profit margins were involved. From the vendors seen on the streets, it’s enough to get buy. You get a nice green and yellow apron and it seems more likeable than washing car windscreens.
I wandered around the whole hall, sampling goods as I went and taking in all the colour and the noise.
Jamaica is a place where companies love to show off their colours and logos and I was struck visually by the brightness of LogoStitch‘s stand. I really wanted to have a chat there, as I’m fascinated by the branding of clothing that goes on in Jamaica, to a degree that seems much more than in most other countries.
Speaking of branding, I had gone to the Expo wearing a shirt from UWI Cave Hill School of Business. It was a deliberate ploy, in part to see if people would see me or see my shirt. The shirt won by a huge margin. I sound nothing like a Bajan, but had people asking about my accent. That made for a few laughs as I took people by the line and wriggled them along for a while.
Speaking of shorts. Remember the man with the wet shirt? Well, I understood now what had happened. The hall was very hot. Yes, there was air conditioning, but clearly not enough to keep you and all of the thousands with you, bundled together, in a state of coolness. My own shirt was now quite moist, and it showed off the effectiveness of my antiperspirants. I was not dripping wet, but I was in need of fresh air.
I took a look outside at the farmers market, where cabbages, yams, peppers, carrots, bananas, mangoes, bees, honey, and more were on display. That was a great change, and I a nice stroll around there, regretting that I had not brought a shopping bag.
Rainforest Seafoods were whipping up some tasty smoked marlin dip their chef told me, as I passed him in one of the corridors. I had to try that. But, when I reached the stand, the bowl was cleaned out. He came by and gave me a cup of tilapia chowder and I was impressed. Tasty and a little peppery. We talked about conch, which is my wife’s national dish, and we will have to get some recipes exchanged.
Wysinco were doing their usual hydration effort, ‘selling’ bottles of WATA and CranWATA for Wysinco dollars.
I browsed around for a little while longer, and realised that I had spent nearly three hours being well entertained and informed.
As I was heading out, I stumbled across the Kremi stand, where cups of ice cream were on offer to adults; children could get cones. That little piece of discrimination didn’t please me. I love cones 🙂 I had a bag full of leaflets and a few pencils and pens (which I usually hand off to kids when I can).
As I headed out, I met a group of Jampro staff, showing off their corporate logo, but…They were wearing aquamarine and yellow shirts. What? Those are the colours of The Bahamas. I pointed this out to one of the lady. Oops! Why on Earth would you lose sight of your national colours at a major event to promote national products? Why not a variation, as always, on the black, gold and green? Note to Jampro: KISS.
I wont let that detract from what seemed like a well-organised set up. Today’s papers are full of reports that suggest it was a success. Visitors exceeded the average 12,000-15,000 mark. The Jamaica Manufacturers Association and the Jamaica Exporters Association, the event organisers, are pleased. Five hundred buyers from 27 countries. Plenty of happy Jamaicans, too.