St. Lucia usually draws what locals call the “sea, sand and sun” tourist: those looking for not much more than a gorgeous beach from which to admire the breathtaking scenery.
For decades, the island’s culture was just an afterthought. An all-inclusive resort might ask local dancers and musicians to perform or invite artisans to sell their crafts or prepare a “Creole Cuisine” night, but the focus was on exposing the guest to a somewhat diluted version of St. Lucian culture instead of inviting visitors to get out and experience the community firsthand.
It was a trend that local business owners, with mounting cynicism, noticed. A holistic approach to tourism that combines both the island’s environmental wonders and Creole culture seemed to be the only solution, and these days, a new tourism minister is leading the charge.
Ernest Hilaire, 54, appointed minister for tourism, investment, creative industries, culture and information in August 2021, thinks that the tourism industry has to be redesigned with the St. Lucian people at the centre.
“We believe more St Lucians should participate in the industry and own it,” Hilaire said. “The notion that so much of our tourism industry is not actually owned by locals but by foreign interests is not very encouraging for us.”
The focus under his leadership is community tourism: authentic local experiences that showcase the attractions, cuisine, traditional values and heritage of the St. Lucian people. Instead of a tourist purchasing a handwoven basket at the market or on the beach, the government will financially support local artisans through loans and grants to open a workshop where guests can see how the basket is made and maybe even learn to make their own.
“People are no longer satisfied to travel thousands of miles and pay thousands of dollars to come and just stay in a resort with a limited engagement of the outside,” Hilaire said.
I knew I wanted to have as much of a St. Lucian-owned-and-operated experience as possible. Although I’ve visited many other Caribbean nations, St. Lucia, known for its luxury resorts, was never on my list. It was too expensive, I thought, and frankly not a destination that seemed to market itself to African American visitors. As a traveller who likes to explore the various cultures of the African diaspora, I thought that St. Lucia probably wasn’t a good fit for a visitor like myself. I could not have been more wrong.
An immersion course in cacao
I visited in October during Creole Heritage Month, when St. Lucia’s melting pot of Arawak, Carib, African, French and Indian-influenced culture is on full display. Street festivals, concerts, “bamboo bursting” — in which a length of bamboo is transformed into an air cannon — traditional madras-print ensembles and menus featuring the national dish of green figs and saltfish are just a few of the highlights. It all culminates in Jounen Kwéyòl Day, with celebrations in communities large and small, where you’re more likely to hear the widely spoken Kwéyòl language, also known as Patwa, instead of English. But you don’t have to go in October to experience these things. Most of them are there for the taking, year round.
Opting for a locally owned property, I stayed at Fond Doux Eco Resort, near the town of Soufrière. Situated on a 250-year-old cocoa plantation, the 16-cottage resort was acquired in 1980 by Lyton and Eroline Lamontagne. The estate, which grows organic cacao, is deep in the heart of a mostly undisturbed forest. You may spot the occasional rooster strolling by like he owns the place and tree frogs provide a soundtrack each night (soothing, perhaps, but loud; you may want to pack ear plugs).
On the first day at Fond Doux, I made my way from my cottage, descending stone stairs carved into the mountain, and found my Chocolate Heritage Tour guides, Clinton Jean, 29, and Whitney Haynes, 17, waiting for me. Held daily, the two-hour tour is available to both on- and off-property guests. We strolled to a cocoa tree, where Jean snagged a ripe pod and broke it open. Inside were the cocoa beans: nodules wrapped in a sweet, slimy white pulp known as mucilage. We plucked out the beans (which islanders called “jungle M&Ms”) and sucked the citrusy mucilage, tossing the bitter bean. — NYT
