Notes on Property, Patience, and Survival in Post-Hurricane Jamaica
There is a moment after a hurricane when the air feels strangely calm. The noise has gone. The violence has moved on. And what remains is not just damage, but decision.
You can see it in the landscape first. A roof peeled back like the lid of a sardine tin. A mango tree uprooted, its roots exposed like veins. Concrete walls still standing—defiant, almost smug—while lighter structures lie scattered across yards and gullies.
But the deeper change is not physical. It is psychological. It settles quietly into people’s thinking. It lingers long after the debris has been cleared and the roads reopened.
And nowhere is this more evident than in the property market.
For the real estate agent in Jamaica, the hurricane does not merely interrupt business. It reframes it. It forces a reckoning with how people really feel about land, about homes, about risk, and about time.
This is no longer a market driven by momentum. It is a market sh…
