Desmond HenryTREASURE BEACH:
I AM the holder of two driver's licences one for Jamaica and the other for the State of Virginia, USA. By sheer coincidence, both of them expired earlier this year necessitating a double renewal.
In early September I had to go to the US on business, and among some letters waiting for me was one from the Virginia Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV). The letter was a reminder that my licence would expire within the month, and that I should come in as soon as possible to have it renewed. Included in the reminder was the renewal form to be filled out, plus two additional questions asking whether I wished to be an organ donor, or to be registered as a voter. The second question answered itself, since I'm not a US citizen; to the first I ticked negative. Two days after arriving, I went to the DMV to renew my licence, and because of the fundamentally different processes for the same purpose, I thought I would set them out for readers to form their own judgements.
When I arrived at the DMV, I (and others) was greeted by a welcoming electronic voice obviously triggered by the door, directing me to the reception counter. There I was asked the specific nature of my visit, was given a number and told to take a seat and listen for further directions. No sooner had I sat down in a waiting area that was clean, spacious, orderly and air-conditioned, when my number was called and I was told to which window, of nine, I should go. I handed in my completed form along with my old licence and paid the fee of US$12 (J$480). My eyes were tested then and there, and I was told to proceed to another holding area to have my picture taken. Picture having been taken promptly, I was back in the original waiting area while the final processing was being completed. After about ten minutes my name was called, I was handed my new licence, a smile and a friendly caution to drive safely. Total time 15 minutes from beginning to end.
For my Jamaica licence renewal, I went to the Tax Office in Black River. I had received no prior reminder of the imminent expiring of my licence, and had discovered so only by accident when I was stopped earlier for a routine police road check. Inside the Tax Office was anything but orderly and welcoming, and was crowded, disorganised and customer-intimidating. After about 15 minutes I was acknowledged at a window, at which I handed in my old licence. I was then told that I would need a new picture and was further advised that they do not have the facility on premises. I would have to find a photographer in town. They were kind enough to tell me where one was located.
I took back my old licence and went off to the photographer. I returned after about half an hour. Not bad 25 minutes so far. When I got back, I now had to rejoin an extended line and go over the entire process once more. Forget about being given pride of place, since I was there before. Now the real waiting began. After an hour and five minutes, I finally reached a window and was given a form to be filled out. That done, I was now told that the new picture I just took, would have to be certified by a Justice of the Peace. Is there one on the premises for these purposes? Of course not. My good fortune was that being a Justice of the Peace myself, they accepted my own recognisance. But can you imagine?
Another ten minutes of paperwork (the lone receipt book was being used by another clerk), payment of J$1050 (US$26) and another ten minutes at the cashier counter for my receipt, would seem to indicate that my licence was finally ready. Are you kidding? What I got back instead, was a receipt stapled to my old licence and a message to call back in a month's time "to see if the licence is ready". Couldn't they call me instead? No, they don't do that. And so after a total time of two hours and a cost of $1300 (US$32) (licence plus photograph), I still did not have a driver's licence in my hand, and no sure idea when I would.
There are huge, disturbing lessons to be learnt from this. The first is that most of our customer services in government offices are inordinately archaic and inefficient. The second appears to be the absence of a recognition that they are so. The third, and perhaps most debilitating, is a residual mindset that Third World countries have no business thinking of First World conveniences. The levels of our appurtenances had better remain where they are, because we don't deserve any better. How else do you explain the planet difference between what we do here, and what is commonplace in nearby modern societies? The problem cannot be cost, because there are no substantial outlays involved in the system I described in Virginia. As a matter of fact I suggested to the clerk in Black River that they might consider setting up a picture-taking process in the office, using digital cameras, and earn some revenues from the resulting fees.
The main problems appear to be absence of leadership at critical points within most of our systems, that discourages rather than encourages; dissuades rather than persuades; and stifles rather than excites new and prideful things. I have written before of placing old, destructive habits in new structures; and of taking the worst in slothful manner into a modern competitive age. In those circumstances it is impossible to build pride in purpose, pride in country and pride in self. We end up fooling ourselves and embarrassing our civilisation.
I have no quarrel with those in the Tax Office. The origins lie elsewhere. They have to use the tools with which they are provided. What I do have a quarrel with, is a nation that believes it can grow without points of pride, or standards of measurement. There will be nothing to look forward to, or to be inspired by. Excellent things will not happen if we do not insist on them one by one. It is still true that if we don't stand for something, we'll fall for anything.
Community Tourism
To those who still don't quite fully understand the growing dimensions of Community Tourism, let me quote a small part of a recent letter from a professor at a college in Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA addressed to the community tourism secretariat at Countrystyle in Mandeville.
"I am planning to bring a group of students to visit the country and study its culture - social, economic, education, government and religion. We are hoping for reasonable accommodations (nothing fancy) but clean and safe. Also getting to visit a bauxite plant and some local leaders, or anything that you feel would provide us with better insights into how Jamaica operates; and life with the national people.
Last but not least, your valuable input into tourism and the role it plays in the economy, and how people really perceive its value to their livelihood".
Needless to say, we at Countrystyle are doing everything to make their visit a reality.
The Bottom Line: A committee is usually a group of the unfit, picked to do the unnecessary.
Desmond Henry is a marketing strategist based in Treasure Beach, St. Elizabeth.
