By David Blacklock

The Caribbean is one region of the world where certain intoxicating substances – rum, marijuana, cocaine – are so deeply associated at a national level that they almost amount to a marketing strategy. Mention Jamaica and what image comes to mind? The Rastafarians have made marijuana a sacred herb, though it has a distinctly secular presence in the economy of the region. Barbados has its Mt. Gay Rum. Step off a plane in the Virgin Islands and the first person to greet you is brandishing a tray of local rum as a welcoming tipple.

Behind the happy face, however, another reality pervades. The image of fun-in-the-sun travel destinations is central to the region’s prosperity, yet up and down the Caribbean island chain, the numbers of untreated alcoholics and addicts are legion. The region’s geographical position in the heart of the drug trade, along with a generally high poverty rate and an historical tendency to turn a blind eye, have led to a culture of deep denial. In one country in the region, the British Virgin Islands, where there are barely any laws governing a minimum drinking age or drunk-driving limits, it is a crime to smoke a cigarette. While there are penalties for using a mobile phone whilst driving, there are none for drinking while doing the same. Many celebrations such as Carnival and others are tantamount to government-funded bacchanals.

That culture is slowly changing, however, as students travel off shore to further their education and return to work in the health and social service fields. The churches, too, have an enormous impact in the nations of the African diaspora. Any religion whose central myth has to do with leading a people out of slavery is bound to resonate deeply. Government policies are being developed which utilize the talents of the citizens in the battle against addiction and its close association with violent crime.

A PERSONAL STORY
With help from his country’s health and social welfare infrastructure, the Virgin Islands’ Kelvin Fahie found his way not only to a personal recovery but to a position of some prominence in the local recovery community. A recent graduate in a Master’s program in Mental Health Counseling, Fahie is back in the Virgin Islands where he is now busy passing on his own recovery to others.

His personal journey is the key to his connection with the population under his care. “My dysfunctions as a teenager drove me towards drugs and alcohol,” Fahie told us recently, “and when I got sober, I chose this field because everyone had given up on me. Everyone had thrown me under the bus and people who weren’t aware of the disease of addiction thought I was doing the things I was doing willfully and that I was spiteful and not acknowledging that I needed help. I invested 18 years of my life in alcoholism to the point where I had to go to bed with a full bottle of rum to make it through the night. Alcohol had become my wife, my best friend; it had become my savior. When I reached the point of having seizures and hallucinations day and night, I walked into the hospital seeking help.”

After successfully gaining his sobriety, Fahie was chosen to receive Government support to continue his education as a counselor and be of use to his fellow addicts.

For Fahie, as with countless others, it was the proximity of death’s door that forced him to choose a new life. “Letting go of alcohol was not easy but it was a choice between life and death,” he told us.

“I used to fall down in the middle of the street and the guys would just watch me and laugh. I was a laughing stock for all those years. What was a history of destruction for me now is a day of great redemption. Those are the things that keep me sober.”

MAKING A DIFFERENCE
“The obstacles I’ve had to face, the people who when I had the opportunity to go to school tried to stop me, I’ve used that. I thrive off my adversities. That’s how I stay sober. I don’t stay sober just by one day at a time, I stay sober by my adversities. If you tell me I’m not going to achieve something, I’m going to prove to you that I can.

“I know I can make a difference in people’s lives. One of the reasons I have a passion for this field is that society is quick to write us off when we encounter problems, and this is a world of problems! So now I don’t worry about problems, I worry about finding solutions. That’s what I’m bringing back to the people.”

It’s not only a medical issue, Fahie says, but a deeper social issue. “People in my country tend to minimize the problem, to turn a blind eye. Those with the financial means can send their family members or loved ones overseas for help without being exposed. You can’t cover up the disease of addiction but because of the naivete of the people here, they’re going to seek treatment elsewhere rather than seek treatment here. Because of that, the working class are the ones that either go to prison, become stigmatized, or the ones who don’t get any help.”

Kelvin’s story is in no way unique, except in this aspect – he came through the other side of his addiction and is now in a position to encourage and to guide others over that bridge to recovery. Through his efforts and those of his peers in the recovery community up and down the archipelago, change is slowly coming to the Caribbean.

For a list of websites, click here

David Blacklock was born and raised in New Zealand before moving to New York in the 1980s. These days he lives in the Caribbean where he is a charter captain, sailing instructor and dive master, as well as a writer and editor. FindYourselfAtSea@gmail.com