Walking through the streets of Limón on Costa Rica’s Caribbean coast, you could be forgiven for thinking you had stepped into Kingston. The scent of jerk spices mingles with the salty sea breeze, reggae floats from shopfront radios, and conversations switch fluidly between Spanish and the rolling rhythms of patois. This is Jamaica Town, a community whose roots stretch back more than a century and whose cultural heartbeat remains distinctly Caribbean.
From the Atlantic Railroad to Old Harbour
The origins of Jamaica Town lie in one of Costa Rica’s most ambitious undertakings: the construction of the Atlantic Railroad in the late 19th century. Intended to connect the capital San José with the port of Limón, the project required vast numbers of workers willing to endure gruelling conditions.
In 1872, the first organised group of Jamaican migrants arrived aboard the ship Lizzie, docking in Limón with 123 passengers. Within a year, more than a thousand Jamaicans had joined them, and thousands more would follow from Jamaica, Barbados, Trinidad and other islands. Their labour not only laid the railway tracks but also transformed Limón into Costa Rica’s main Caribbean port.
When the work was done, many chose to stay. Some were granted small plots of land for farming; others settled along the coast in towns such as Puerto Viejo, known locally as Old Harbour. Their descendants remain the backbone of the Afro-Costa Rican community today.
Prejudice & Segregation
Life was never straightforward. The early Jamaican migrants endured tropical diseases, prejudice, and a series of segregation laws that barred Afro-Caribbeans from moving beyond Limón Province until the mid-20th century after the 1948 Civil War. Citizenship rights were not granted to many until the 1940s.
Yet, in the face of exclusion, they built schools, churches and neighbourhoods of their own. Their determination ensured that language, food, and traditions survived across generations. As one interviewee explained in the 2023 documentary The Jamaicans of Costa Rica: “For a time we were not Costa Ricans, nor Jamaicans but we’ve always tried to preserve the culture, the language and the food.”
The Language of Identity
When it comes to language, the way people in Limón speak is one of the clearest markers of Jamaica Town’s heritage. Everyday conversation often flows in Limonese Creole, also known as Mekatelyu (“make I tell you”), a dialect that developed directly from Jamaican patois. First carried across the sea by 19th-century migrants, it retains the rhythms, vocabulary and expressions of the island tongue, reshaped over generations on Costa Rica’s Caribbean coast.
Linguists estimated that fewer than 60,000 people spoke Limonese Creole in the mid-1980s, and there are growing concerns about “decreolisation” as younger generations turn instead to Spanish or standard English. As explained in The Jamaicans of Costa Rica documentary:
“The language right now seems to be in danger. With the new generation it is difficult to preserve it because the predominant language is Spanish, and it’s more comfortable to speak. And they [young people] want to learn English, but standard English, so the language is losing its grasp. In 20 or 40 years, it will be a real challenge for the next generation to keep it alive.”
Still, the language endures in markets, churches, and music. Familiar Jamaican expressions such as wapin (“what’s happening?”) can still be found painted on murals or written on menus throughout Jamaica Town, serving as everyday reminders of the lasting influence of the early Jamaican migrants.
Food, Music and Celebration
The Afro-Costa Rican table still echoes the island kitchens of their ancestors. Ackee and saltfish, roast breadfruit, oxtail stews, fried plantains, rice and peas, and coconut-based sweets remain staples. These dishes, seasoned with Scotch bonnet peppers and fresh herbs, are not only meals but cultural memories.
Music has also long provided a soundtrack to the community. Reggae, calypso and soca dominate festivals and family gatherings, and the annual Carnival in Limón is one of the country’s most vibrant celebrations. Founded in 1949 by musician and community leader Alfred Josiah Henry Smith, better known as “Mister King,” the festival has grown into a showcase of Caribbean dance, costume and sound, distinct from other Costa Rican traditions.
Beyond Culture
Afro-Costa Ricans played a central role in shaping Costa Rica’s economy, extending their impact far beyond the cultural sphere. After railway construction, many turned to cacao and coconut farming. By the mid-20th century, banana exports had overtaken these crops, and generations found work in agriculture, shipping and the docks of Limón and nearby Moín.
Early Jamaican immigrants also became landowners, tradesmen and businesspeople. Families such as the Oranes established shops and small enterprises, while craftsmen like mason and carpenter Wilford Stanford Goulbourne Watson helped build Caribbean-style housing and churches, leaving an architectural stamp still visible in Limón today. Others, including pharmacist James Theodore McRae, provided essential professional services that anchored community life. Newspapers, churches and lodges created by Afro-Caribbeans became vital civic spaces, ensuring their voices carried beyond the margins. Find more information on the contributions of Jamaican immigrants in Costa Rica here.
The community has also produced some of Costa Rica’s most renowned footballers, many of whom have represented the country internationally. Sport became another path to recognition and pride, further entwining Jamaican heritage with Costa Rican national identity.
Jamaica Town Then and Now
On 22 April 1991, Limón was struck by a powerful earthquake that claimed dozens of lives and permanently altered the city’s seafront, raising the coastline by nearly two metres. Entire blocks were levelled, including parts of the waterfront once central to the community. Recovery was slow, but the disaster reshaped both the physical and social landscape of Jamaica Town.
The neighbourhood’s name itself has also been contested over time. In the 1940s, it was renamed Barrio Roosevelt in gratitude to the United States government for funding a sewer system that eased chronic flooding in the area, during the presidency of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. For decades, residents campaigned for the return of the original name, with the local Development Association leading the charge. After years of lobbying, their efforts were rewarded when the Caribbean municipality officially reinstated the name Jamaica Town. As association president Eladio Arce confirmed, new signage now welcomes visitors at the entrance to the district, reaffirming its Afro-Caribbean heritage.
Today, visitors encounter a city of contrasts. Limón’s reputation as a gritty port—shaped by its role in global trade routes—sits alongside vibrant murals, cultural landmarks and a warm welcome. Signs proudly reading “Jamaica Town” mark the district, while nearby Puerto Viejo continues to draw tourists in search of reggae, rasta culture, and beaches framed by rainforest. Tourism sustains many families, supplementing agriculture and trade, even as the community faces the ongoing challenge of preserving its language, traditions and land against the pressures of globalisation and change.
Why It Matters
Jamaica Town is a living testament to migration, survival and the ways in which cultures take root far from home. Its story reveals how Afro-Caribbean identity helped shape Costa Rica, just as it has in Brazil, Panama, Nicaragua and across the Americas.
For travellers, a visit to Limón offers more than beaches and coffee. It is an opportunity to see how Jamaican culture has influenced Costa Rica and carved out a lasting place in the nation’s history.
As one local told visiting filmmakers: “We are Costa Ricans, yes. But we are Jamaicans too. Our story is both.”
You can learn more about the early Jamaican immigrants to Costa Rica—and even see photographs and records of those who arrived to work on the railway—in the document Honouring Our Caribbean Ancestors: Commemorating 150 Years of the Second Wave of People of African Descent in Costa Rica.
