Saying goodbye

Good-bye, Guyana. Thanks for an amazing year, complete with ups and downs, upside downs and backwards... I think I have said all the words that there are to say at this point.

Until we meet again.


“Don't be dismayed at goodbyes, a farewell is necessary before you can meet again and meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.”

~Richard Bach~

A Perfect Saturday

Yesterday was my perfect Saturday in Guyana.

I slept in a little bit, enjoyed a few cartoons, showered and got dressed at my own pace. I look at the pile of GHIS related material that I could review again and do some more planning, but make the better decision to take the day for myself. I contemplated tidying my little apartment and decided that the dishes could wait for another day...

Around noon, I met Anu at the market (Stabroek, just to clarify). It's my favourite Saturday routine. If I were brave, I'd take the minibus, but as it is, I have the taxi driver drop me off at the front and I consider myself pretty brave to walk alone from the front to the very back of the market. Always a few comments from vendors wanting to know if I'm shopping and of course, men wanting me to know how beautiful I look! When I get to their stall, I love to see Anu and her dad's smiling faces pop up from behind the counter. I admire all her family's gold jewellery, dream of what I would buy if I were a millionaire and pick out my own beautiful gold jewellery set (an investment, but in my price range). It's taken me a few visits to decide what I wanted - everything is so beautifully hand crafted, shiny yellow gold and it's just so hard to pick your favourite!

Yesterday we mixed up the routine a bit and took a journey to Giftland to buy blank CDs - gotta love a little trip on a minibus, I'm always thankful that I survive. We walked back from Giftland to the market area. It's a bustle of activity in "downtown" central. A quick stop at the bank to pick up some cash (as quick as it can be to visit the only Scotiabank in the area in prime shopping time) then we head over to the Lotto place. I love going to Lotto. I'm not sure if Anu's dad's tickets ever really win (I think he's gotten a free ticket here or there since I've started coming), but I love checking the numbers, enjoying the air conditioning, dreaming of winning Guyanese millions and often do a little dance as we wait in the line - I think it amuses the security guard and I just can't help myself when the music is good.

Next stop is Hack's Halaal. The place where Anu introduced me to dhal puri with mango sour and you can find all the tasty treats like pine tarts, cakes, pastries, curries, and roti at a great price! Anu has a list of goodies that she usually picks up and by this time after walking in the sun, we both need a drink - Coke for Anu, water for me :)

I leave the market and usually spend the afternoon at home with a book or a movie on the Hallmark channel, but yesterday I was lucky enough to have a date with Samara, Wallis' daughter. While her son was at Scouts, I looked after Samara to give Wallis some time to work. We made some delicious cakes with our imagination, watered the plants for Ms P and took some time to be pirates and search for buried treasure in the yard. Wallis still needed some time after Lee was done with scouts so the three of us went to Pegasus and enjoyed the new playground!

When I finally got home, I was pretty exhausted from entertaining and keeping an eye on a 4 and 9 year old, but when the call came from my Canadian intern friends, I couldn't resist. I met them at White Castle fish shop for a drink (after an energizing shower and a change of clothes - didn't want to bring the sand from the playground with me!). We were planning our evening when I discovered they hadn't been to Latino’s yet! I can leave Guyana now knowing that they have been to all my favourite places. I introduced them to my favourite, rum and coconut water, and showed them the potential for dancing at Latino's (though strangely the dance floor was dead). I found the energy to somehow beat Cinderella's curfew, but found a space in the first taxi home. A great way to start a Sunday... :)

I appreciate the beauty of this country, enjoy taking new adventures, but there is something about a weekend routine with family and friends that makes you feel more at home.

Sorry for the late posting. I realized that I had written this post, saved it and apparently never posted it!

September Heat

September is hot. Really hot. I thought I was sick or something because of my difficulty to tolerate the heat. I used to walk to work every day, now most days I call a car. I sweat just by standing still. But I should known that the sun and my position close to the equator would explain it all! In Canada, when fall officially starts, summer is ending because the earth is rotating away from the sun – so my position near the equator is getting direct sun before the start of summer in the southern hemisphere. The days are getting shorter again and the sun is setting sooner…

Scientific Explanation:
"The Earth is at the autumnal equinox on or about September 21st. As the Earth revolves around the Sun, it gets positioned such that the Sun is directly over the equator. Basically, the Sun's energy is in balance between the northern and southern hemispheres. " (http://www.crh.noaa.gov/fsd/astro/season.php)

Bottomline: when you're essentially caught between the two hemispheres, there is no balance of the sun's energy...

It's HOT!!

The Cinema

I kid you not. I have been to the cinema in Georgetown. Potentially the only cinema in Guyana... And I survived.

I've actually been four times. I made the mistake of calling my parents the first time - being so excited to have an activity besides eating or drinking out on the town, and I might have mentioned that the cinema is on the "no-go" list for PeaceCorps volunteers, right up there with Stabroek market, but not as serious as Blue Iguana. Not the brightest idea, but I think they felt better after I told them about the excellent service of the guard who watches you from the moment you walk through the doors at 5:45pm through the movie and right until you get into the car at the end of the show!

The first film I went to see was Tyler Perry’s Meet the Browns. Neither Priya and I really knew what the film was about, but it was entertaining in that dramatic family comedy way with a little bit of a love story. The cost is $300 per show and though there is no popcorn, the lovely ticket lady does have delicious egg balls with mango sour for sale. The theatre has three levels and we watched the show from the balcony. The theatre is completely dark though it’s probably best that the lights aren’t on. The creaks and squeaks made me a little nervous and I made sure that I knew where all my exits were in case of fire or some other unforeseen circumstance. The only problem with the evening was the attack of the mosquitoes happening on my legs as I watched that I didn’t notice until the end – probably the most bites since I arrived last year and incredibly itchy!

The second film we saw was What Happens in Vegas with some new Canadian friends. I felt much more confident though a couple of big trucks drove by and I kind of felt the building shake which makes one a little tense, but I protected the first timers. Highlight of course was the blackout in an already scary theatre which wasn't as bad as it could have been because I had good company. And Skittles to calm me.

The third film was Hancock. Will Smith. Big screen. Need I say more? You'd brave the theatre too. I'd even seen it twice before...

And the final film that I survived was The Happening by M. Night Shyamalan. I don't know how Priya convinced me to go. I watch his movies (if I watch them at all!) in the day time, with the lights on, with either my mom or a male friend to hold me. Thankfully it wasn't as dark as some of his movies, but obviously had the same scary and thought-provoking features.

I don't know if I'll get to see another film before I leave, but without a doubt, I have enjoyed my Georgetown cinematic experiences.

Editorial Letter

I enjoyed reading this letter to the editor in the papers this morning - kind of a perfect day for me to read the paper as I tend to avoid them because of the violent stories and images used. It was written by the Honourable Minister of Health Dr. Leslie Ramsammy.

Can you please spare me a moment to be a proud Guyanese?

I have always been proud to be Guyanese. I have always had an abiding optimism in the future of my country. I believe in the goodness of my country and my sisters and brothers. Even in bad times, there are so many positive things that I see and so many of my sisters and brothers who make me proud. I am grateful that Guyana, with all its problems and with so many constraints, global and local, continues to demonstrate resiliency and maintain a promise of greatness. Over the last several weeks and over the past few years, I have had many reasons to feel proud. I feel compelled to bare my soul today so that my friends, my sisters and brothers see my pride in my country.

So what exactly compelled me to speak out at this time? My tolerance and patience were exhausted this past week. After a long period of trying to be very tolerant and remembering we live in a free and democratic country in which we ensure space for all kinds of views and opinions, my tolerance finally was exhausted.

There are commentators and “experts” who have all the answers. There are those who believe that as long as you serve in this Government you have no integrity and no contribution to make. Even these persons have not exhausted my patience! But I must confess that those who constantly and relentlessly seem to want to convince us that there is nothing good about Guyana, that Guyana is cursed, that other than themselves, there is no good person in Guyana, that Guyana is not going anywhere, have finally drove me over the edge and have moved me to respond. My short response first is enough is enough, stop it!

I would be dishonest if I were to do the same in an opposite way, that is, in the same forceful way to equally try to convince everyone that only good things happen in Guyana and that only good people live in Guyana, that there is no corruption anywhere in our country. There are many things and many people who should make us mad. Some things that are done in the name of the government should make us mad as hell! Corruption occurs in government and in the private sector, in NGOs. There are many bad things which happen in Guyana and which should make us bow our heads in shame. For sure we have our share of bad people.

There is no shame or hurt, or anything wrong, in persons dedicating their lives to expose these wrong doings and incompetent actions in our society. Indeed, for those who want to dedicate their lives in highlighting these wrong things, the things that bring shame to our country and our people, it is truly a noble choice. This should not exhaust our tolerance and, quite to the contrary, this should generate feelings of gratitude. But when this is done with an attitude and with a tone that nothing good happens in Guyana, it is unbalanced and unfair and it is ugly. It is dishonest and it exposes a wicked agenda.

I do not want to make an exhaustive list, and I do not want to go too far back. I want you to see just a few reasons why I am unapologetically a proud Guyanese. I am no “yes” person. I am not beholden to anyone.

When many here and around the Caribbean thought we were a risk to host world cup cricket, Guyana hosted a quality leg of the world cup series. I felt pride in the way Guyanese behaved, the way Guyanese came out and supported world cup cricket and in the way we were able to bring Guyana to a state of readiness. Many were surprised. I was not. Together with the majority of Guyanese, we showed everyone we were a capable people, bringing off a world cup cricket series with competence and with much zest. We flew the Golden Arrow Head in a way that said to the world “WE ARE GUYANESE, PROUD GUYANESE!”

Similarly, we have just concluded the hosting of CARIFESTA. Really, which one of us cannot be proud of the way Guyana responded in being the most hospitable of hosts? This was the largest ever CARIFESTA. This was a quality CARIFESTA. If CARIFESTA 1 set a standard for CARICOM countries to emulate, CARIFESTA 10 has re-calibrated the standards for which CARICOM countries must strive. There was celebration, there was joy. But there was also a robust dignity that oozed from Guyanese of all walks of life. I was glistening with pride.

Then there is Shivnarine Chanderpal. Here is an unassuming, quiet, humble Guyanese. But he is the #1 batsman in the world. He is now the cricketer of the year! Can you imagine that anyone of us would not be lighted up with pride! And lest I be accused of gender bias, we should not forget the pride with which Nicolete Fernandes, Aliana Pompey and Marianne Burnett represent Guyana and the pride they allow us to feel as Guyanese.

I remember how many of us stood with tears in our eyes and filed with patriotic pride when the International Tribunal on the Laws of the Seas ruled in Guyana’s favor in our sea borders dispute with Suriname earlier in the year. In this case, Guyanese could not help feeling pride for the boldness the government demonstrated in taking the dispute to the Tribunal. In particular, no one could have denied that the courage and leadership of President Bharrat Jagdeo were pivotal factors in this genuine Guyanese success story.

And I must relate the immense pride I felt when I participated in the Economic Partnership Agreement Consultation that took place last week at the International Convention Center. I saw Guyanese of all walks of life, Guyanese of different political parties, from the private sector and trades unions, from faith-based organizations, from NGOs, and Guyanese with a history of political and social differences, Guyanese with an acrimonious past, come together to raise their voices against the powerful European Union. And I was filled with pride to see our President being the Guyanese leader, a leader for all of our people.

President Bharrat Jagdeo demonstrated a keen understanding of the EPA, and explained with great clarity, with passion, with quiet confidence why the EPA is not a beneficial tool for Guyana, why the EPA is nothing more than a re-colonization instrument for the Europeans. There were great admiration for the young President, even by persons who have major differences with him and with whom he has had many unpleasant confrontations. It’s not the first time, but this was a moment when Guyanese felt genuine pride for our President. I know of no one in Guyana and in the Caribbean who could more clearly articulate the downside of the EPA than President Bharrat Jagdeo. My pride for Bharrat Jagdeo, our President, was not merely as a Minister in his Cabinet. It was as a simple Guyanese.

Every day I pass Guyanese craftsmen and women weaving their magic and bringing such enormous pride to our people. Our farmers are the best in the world. We produce the best sugar in the world. We might be a poor country, but more than 95 % of our children are protected against some of the world’s most devastating diseases. We have been able to reduce maternal and infant mortality by half in the last 15 years. It is ordinary nurses and simple health care providers in our towns and villages, in our remote communities, who are the heroes and heroines. I am eternally grateful and they make me so proud to be a Guyanese.

Lest I fall for the temptation of preparing a laundry list of pride factors, let me stop for the moment. I believe I have made my point for now. While there might be some bad things and while there may be some bad people in our country, there are many positive, uplifting things to make us proud to be Guyanese.

It’s simply reckless to deny there are things which make me stand with my head held high and beaming with pride. It’s wicked to portray a picture of total degradation, of hopelessness, of shame, of a country devoid of anything good. When we cannot bring ourselves, even for a moment to recognize the many things that dignify our nation, it must mean we have some mischievous, unholy agenda.

Please give me a break and allow me some time to savor my good fortune of being a Guyanese. I am intelligent enough to see wrong things and I am committed to want to change these wrongs. I see bad things, unacceptable things and I am appalled, even sometimes from within the government structure. These things disappoint me and make me reel with anger.

But I will rather die than not to acknowledge the good, the dignified, proud things that we accomplish, as individuals and as a Guyanese nation every day! So to the critics, can you spare me a moment to be a proud Guyanese?
Dr. LESLIE RAMSAMMY

http://www.guyanachronicle.com/letters.html#Anchor-26242

Santa Mission

I’ve always wanted to visit Santa Mission and as my time is coming to an end, I was feeling the pressure. I had decided that I was going to go yesterday and apparently the organizers of Amerindian Heritage Month had decided that Santa Mission was going to be their Amerindian Village for the celebrations and yesterday was going to be the big celebration!!

Luckily, I had a PeaceCorps friend on the inside who instructed me how to get there and with a little word of mouth, I ended up traveling with seven other people. The adventure started at my house at 7am where we took a car to the bus park in front of Stabroek and were violently hustled from one bus to another. Hustling is how mini bus conductors get passengers, but this was my first experience leading people on to a mini bus (and not being the one led) – and being physically hustled where one man “took me under his wing” and I felt a little uncomfortable. The man in our group took charge and we got on a mini bus that was ready to depart. The $300 bus ride dropped us off on the road outside the dock where we were greeted with large boats and tons of people getting in. The flat rate of $2000 round trip was standard for the boat and they stuffed us into a big boat which had no regard for boat safety rules (atleast by Canadian standards) where some of our group had to sit on the bottom or on gas cans.

We crossed Kamuni River (which I think is a tributary of the Demerara River) before entering the Pokerero Creek. By the end of the hour and a half boat ride, we had taken so many twists and turns that I didn’t know where we were. Santa Mission is located up the hill from a white sandy beach. The welcoming committee was getting ready to greet the president (though it was the prime minister who came) and we found our PeaceCorps friends. The village had an entire program prepared of local songs, dances and an acrostic poem by the children. The village tashao gave an address, as well as other tashaos representing their villages. The Minister of Amerindian Affairs and Prime Minister finished the first part of the day and every one was invited to watch the official opening of the new school. Food stalls had various types of pepperpot prepared and local drinks like piwari (from cassava) in addition to the usual beer, water and juice were for sale.

My favourite part of the day was relaxing under the shade of a large mango tree and not having any sounds of the city to worry about. I purchased some lovely baskets in the craft benab. The most adventure for the day was arguing with the boat drivers about whether we should have to pay for our “round” trip upfront or just pay for one way at a time – quite the experience! They weren’t going to let us off the boat. We made it safely there and back, minimal sunburn, lots of beautiful pictures and completely exhausted by the fresh air.

This Country

"At the point where the Caribbean meets South America on its North Atlantic seaboard lies an almost unknown, but incredibly wonderful land of unspoilt beauty, where the virgin rainforest leads to the Amazon Basin. Where the jungle is still unexplored, rivers uncharted and mountains yet to be climbed." (Unknown, www.guyana.org)

I love this country. Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself, but then I forget why I doubted. I love this country. From the mighty Kaieteur to the rolling green savannahs… From the refreshing ocean breeze to the red dirt roads… From the sweet pineapple to the fresh curry and roti… From the cherry juice to the rum and coconut water… I love this country.

But when people ask me what I like most about Guyana, I answer first the “wonderful people” followed of course by the fruit, food and natural beauty. It’s the answer they want to hear, but it’s also the truth.

When I ask myself on those horribly frustrating and stressful days “why the hell am I still here?” I need only to have a phone call from a friend, a kind word from a co-worker, a smile from a stranger at the clinic, a random story from a taxi driver, a chat with my favourite server at Oasis or Windies, a small child wave hello and want to hold my hand, to remember why I’m still here.

When on those rollercoaster days I feel like I am wasting my time and energy in a country where they seem content to do the minimum, I need only to open my eyes and see those individuals trying to run a clinic as best they can with limited resources and challenges they can’t control, watch a person manage too many program because they’re understaffed, talk to a taxi driver who works until the wee hours of the morning and wakes to wash his car before work the next day, to realize I’m not alone in wanting to do my best for this country and my life here.

When I feel lost and overwhelmed, I know just where to find a hug or calming atmosphere, I know who can make me feel better just with his presence, I know where to get a good laugh, where to find a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen, and if all else fails, I know who serves the best chocolate cake or strongest rum drink.

I’ve found my home away from home, an Oasis, new friends, adopted family, and love… I didn’t expect it, I wasn’t looking for it, but it found me. I love this country.

Land of Many Waters

I found this piece on a website. I am not sure of its author and I feel that it was not created by the website owner because I have seen the first paragraph on other websites, but I thought I'd share the picture it draws....
(http://www.wilderness-explorers.com/highligh.htm)

I lie at a point where the Caribbean meets South America on its North Atlantic seaboard, an almost unknown, but incredibly wonderful land of unspoilt beauty. Where the virgin rainforest leads to the Amazon Basin. Where the Jungle is still unexplored, rivers uncharted and mountains yet to be climbed. I am called Guyana: Land of Many Waters.

Here the Jaguar still roams my forest, and in my rivers - the Giant River Otter, the Black Caiman and the Arapaima, the largest fresh water fish in the world still swim. I am refuge to the Harpy Eagle and the Hoatzin. I offer 90 miles of Shell Beach to the Oliver Ridley, Leatherback, Green and Hawksbill turtles to nest so that their species may survive. My birdlife is spectacular, there are over 800 species which include the protected Scarlet Macaw, the Red-billed and Toco Toucans and the magnificent Guianan Cock-of-the-rock.

To discover my beauty, travel with me to my famous waterfalls - the majestic and breathtaking Kaieteur, five times the height of Niagra. In honour of its majesty I have placed a rainbow to arch eternally over the mist-covered boulders of the gorge. Here, mystical folklore tell legendary tales of the old chief Kai sacrificing himself over the falls to save his tribe.

Come further with me across the tree tops, over cloud-covered mountains and onto rolling savannah where Orinduik Falls cascades down gigantic steps of Jasper along the Brazilian border.

Come to this land travelled by Evelyn Waugh, David Attenborough, Gerald Durrell, Michael Swan, where the Macusi and Wapishana tribes traded curare poison and arrow canes for flint with the Wai Wai. Where Sir Walter Raleigh came in search of El Dorado and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was inspired to write his classic "The Lost World".

Come, to where I am rolling savannah, sliced by creeks, broken by hills rising suddenly from the plain, my skyline etched by the mythic mountain of Shiriri. Cattle country, horse country... manes and tails streaming as they surge across the flatlands. Where tall termite cities rise from the grass to be dwarfed by the blue Kanukus. Far horizons of sun scorched plains, broken by shrub, bush, swamp and palm, a scattering of ranches and Amerindian villages. Vacqueros riding barefoot in the stirrup, whistling lassos through the hot air and showing off at rodeo.

Come to me, I am a timeless paradise. The heartbeat of the forest can be felt in me as you explore my many faces. I am the adventure of a lifetime, within me there is a diversity of wildlife, an immense variety of landscapes, an unspoilt wonder. Feel the incredible harmony of nature whisper across your heart. Come, I am an experience you will never forget. I am Guyana.

Motorcycle Ride?

I went to White Castle Fish Shop for some beverages and the best fish and plantain chips in the world with my friend Alfred last night. We made a pact to go at least once a week in my final weeks. I can never remember what kind of fish I am eating, but I love the deep fried goodness and tasty plantain chips! Complimented by a Smirnoff Ice and I'm a happy girl :)

Food was done, drinks were finished, feeling that it was about that time of day to go home and relax... and I also had to write a ToR for the next morning so I thought I should stop with the beverages and start it at a fairly reasonable time... I was debating which taxi company to call when Alfred was like, why don't I take you home? On his motorcycle. In Guyana. Hmm... I don't know why I didn't just say no. I've never said yes before... But I thought about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought, why not? We negotiated speeds. And he assured me I would be safe. He even had a helmet for me! Little bit of a rocky start when he teased me with the engine not starting well (played with the choke) and I confess, the bike did rattle a bit when we got started - but I don't think I held on too tight (he could talk so he must have been able to breathe) and we were off! We took a nice leisurely root home, I think he avoided some traffic for me and it was nice to see Georgetown from a different point of view entirely. Barely any vehicles on the road and Alfred was a very good driver (probably best because I don't know if I am covered under my travel health insurance for motorcycle crashes). I apparently wanted to steer, but I guess the driver is responsible for that, not the passenger!

He dropped me safe at home and my new neighbour's friend called me the "hot chick on the motorcycle" - hmm... maybe I should get my own?

A Random Morning at the Chest Clinic

I was welcomed at the door by a patient I had seen last week and wanted to see the doctor even though it wasn't his clinic date. It made me think of a new proposal that they start to reinforce that a patient see the same doctor every time, instead of the doctor that is available - it makes the doctor more invested in the outcome of his/her patient and it reassures the patient that they are seeing a doctor who knows them and cares about their treatment. No clinic card and number, so a quick search in the GHIS and I had all the information I needed. Oh how I love that system :)

I sat with Dr Abiot and helped him enter patient information into the GHIS. I'm not supposed to - it's against the rules (that I created), but I missed working in the clinic, and it's the one thing that I know is always appreciated. I enjoy working with him, seeing familiar patients progressing in their treatment and learning new things. I can read an x-ray now (unless it's tricky or not so clear), know the routine for TB diagnosis and treatment, and am familiar with what to prescribe for an itch, a cough or a pain... Saw my first case of TB of the spine today, who knew? I was thinking it would be interesting to pull the files on the patients that I first saw when I arrived at the clinic in February - we started at the clinic together and with a six month treatment schedule, all of them should be cured of TB by now!

I played phone tag with Roland (HSDU) all morning trying to coordinate our long overdue meeting... 9 am... (somebody slept late because of flu meds and I wasn't going out in the pouring rain) 10am... (dry now, but another meeting came up - and I missed the email suggesting 11am because I was in the clinic) 11am... Ah yes, finally 11am. I dropped off essentially the final copies (well, final copies to be reviewed by the two of us) of the deliverables for my contract - seven module development guides - and a terms of reference to hire somebody to do "my" Chest Clinic job at another facility.

After my meeting at HSDU, I sat on balcony of clinic listening to discussion of the day's news: Roger Khan (I don't know the whole story, but I think there is drug trafficking involved, he is a businessman with lots of influential and interesting connections, currently being held in the States and the latest in the saga - his lawyer has been charged with attempting to "eliminate" the prosecution's star witness)... Fine man's gang is claimed to have committed over 47 murders based on weapons found at the site of their takedown - not actually sure whether this is based on forensic evidence and definitely some passionate balcony sitters on the subject of whether they can be blamed for all or if coverups are involved... complaints about the doctor's disappearance and needing to get children to school, food to eat for lunch...

Impromptu discussion on my love life in the triage room with a nurse - thinking that I should find a Guyanese man to marry (probably related to the same plan to keep me in Guyana). She essentially told me that I should find a black man because he would be more likely to treat me like a queen. In a somewhat paraphrased quote and minus the Creolese (which I can't speak and definitely won't attempt to type), "I've seen what you to do to the men in this clinic. They sit and wait and watch you from behind when you walk, and like to watch your front too. They like your shape, your size, your height, your skin, your smile... They'd do anything to have you. They'd kill to have you." A little scary, a little flattering, a little bit of uncomfortable subject so we switched to a reflection of my time in Guyana...

It was interesting thinking back to what I expected when I first came to work in the clinic - computer literacy, negative attitudes towards the system, current state of the system... I like to think that I've accomplished something. Computer literacy has definitely gone up. The GHIS is no longer "your" system, it's THE or OUR system (I love it!) The computer hardware leaves a lot to be asked for and there is still some relunctancy by certain staff to use the system, but overall, I can see the change in the users and the potential for the system to work, and work well. I have shown them the way, given them the tools they need and I have confidence in them that if they want it, they can do! Now just to get over those computer issues, office tensions and management problems... sigh*

Time for lunch now, I guess, but I'm not really hungry. A trip to Oasis for air conditioning, wireless internet, good music... and cherry juice, chocolate icecream and a brownie... Quite a day...

One Month?

It's hard to believe. The countdown is on... The final days have arrived...

I'm not sure if you start a month countdown from one day to another day, say September 8th to October 8th or whether it should be counted on a four week interva, but essentially, it's about that time of year...

It's hard to describe the mixed feelings that I have about leaving Guyana and about going home. I can't believe I've been here a year and at the same time, I can't believe it's only been a year...

Random

This is kind of a bizarre post - from one extreme to the other... kind of a random assortment of happenings in the past twenty four hours.

Last night I went to the National Stadium in Providence to see Morgan Heritage (Jamaican reggae group), Natural Black (Guyanese reggae man) and a collection of local artists (that I never actually got to see because we arrived late!) The show started at 8pm which means it doesn't really start until at least 9-10pm so we left Georgetown around 9:30ish. A new friend drove us down to the stadium, a twenty minute ride that took atleast 45 minutes because of traffic. No offense, but Guyanese don't know how to drive in traffic. They don't have traffic so no time to practice except for at events like this one. The show must have actually started on time because by the time we got there, Natural Black was on stage. There was an assortment of people in the stadium stands, but the real party was on the field of the stadium. We tried to work our way to the front and in a group of three, I was the middle person - when the last person fell behind, I waited for her to get caught up, but the leader did not. Another one of those times when I am very conscious of the colour of my skin as I find myself near the stage at a reggae concert. Trying to look for your driver (a black woman with dreadlocks) at a reggae concert also becomes a challenge.

We wandered out of the crowded part of the field to find drinks. My friend was a bit tired so we thought we'd sit for a bit and then go back onto the field. While we were standing waiting to get our drinks, my friend reached for her purse as we both thought a little boy had been trying to get into it. We got our drinks and then realized that he hadn't been trying to get in - he had gotten into her purse and taken her wallet with money, national ID and an assortment of other cards. The evening didn't get any better when she went to report the theft to the police (thinking the boy would take the money and ditch the wallet - of more value to her because of the cards) who told her that they hadn't brought their log book with them so she would have to walk to the nearest police station. What!? Great idea to send a young woman walking out on the street alone... Needless to say it put a bit of a damper on our evening. I enjoyed the performance, but was obviously upset by what had happened - what was most upsetting was that it was a child. And you know he didn't get there alone and you have to wonder what kind of situation he is in and where he will go from pick-pocketing...

At the end of our show, we found our driver. (I had jokingly said that if anyone gets lost, we'll meet at the "tree" - which was barely a stick in the ground in front of the stadium, but a nice attempt at improving the scenery - and it worked! She met us there, exhausted and with a sore throat from being front row). The parking lot was chaos. It took us an hour and a half to just get out of the parking lot - again with the not knowing how to drive in traffic jams and not understanding traffic flow, but definitely knowing how to pause traffic. We actually had to go the opposite direction to turn around and head back to the city. I must be getting old because I got home at 4:30am and proceeded to sleep half the day away.

I now find myself at Oasis, enjoying the air conditioning goodness and reading the paper to see that the funeral of 'Fineman' took place today. Half way through Carifesta, the police in Guyana were successful for their hunt for 'Fineman' and his gang - those believed to be responsible for the shootings earlier this year in Lusignan and Bartica as well as various other shootings and the assasination of a Minister a few years ago - shooting him and his "second-in-command", called Skinny (I think). I chose not to read the paper during this time especially (not that I usually follow the news) and heard of pictures of the dead men in the newspaper. I did catch a news clip showing two bodies with feet hanging out on the back of a flat bed truck under the benches with police officers sitting on the benches, weapons ready. I feel the country probably breathed a sigh of relief that those responsible were caught, though it is a different tactic than I am used to at home by police.

Regardless of anyone's actions, a mother has still lost her son and is burying him today. Her quote to the media was something along the lines that "now that my son is dead, all the crime in Guyana will stop" (paraphrased). The media seemed to say it as a statement, but I suspect sarcasm. There is still crime in this country - drugs, violence and corruption... She knows this and hopefully the police and defence force continue to work hard to improve the situation. Hopefully someone will start to take better care of the children who are started out on the wrong track...

Carifesta

Carifesta is the “Caribbean Arts Festival”. It started in Guyana in 1972 and is celebrating its 10th festival by returning again to Guyana. From August 22nd to 31st, Guyana is sharing its culture, literary arts, performing arts, food, and more while welcoming its door to x number of other Caribbean and South American countries to do the same (www.carifesta.net).

There was a mad rush and huge line to get tickets for the opening and closing ceremonies – and apparently tickets and passes for every event. The ticket policy was soon ended when they realized that nobody thought (logically enough) that they would need tickets to go to an exhibition ground, but unfortunately, they also didn’t keep the ticket policy for those places with limited seating which led to plenty of disappointed people.

The schedule for the 10 days was released probably one (max two) days before the opening ceremonies. Nobody could tell me what was going on. It’s very hard to plan your life around an arts festival when you don’t know where things are or even what they are! When the schedule was finally released, it was colour coded (love it!) by category (performing arts, visual arts, poetry, etc) – but it was very hard to follow what days things were happening and where. I personally would have done a daily schedule and then colour coded within that schedule, but then again, that’s just me… It was tricky to decide what to do because events were just given a title and a country – no description as to what a film was about or a performing arts piece, really just a random shot in the dark and cross your fingers that it’s interesting and what you expected!

I missed the opening ceremonies scheduled on Friday, August 22 by choice to host a birthday party for myself and skipped a huge concert (with such international artists as Mr. Vegas) the following day to assist with my recovery and spend quality time with my departing neighbour and darling sister.

On Sunday, Lesa and I headed to Sophia exhibition ground to see the Amerindian village and plans to visit the National Park and their literacy exhibition. My reading of the fabulous schedule missed that the country exhibitions and a craft exhibition was also happening on the grounds! We were greeted at the gate by a guard and a police officer. The guard wanted to check my purse and see my ticket – “I need a ticket” (naively) – allowing me to pass and Lesa was interrogated (more idle curiosity about the white girl) about what country she was from (leaving her slightly concerned that maybe she should have brought her passport). About half of the country exhibitions were open when we went (inspiring me to try and return later in the week) and they all displayed varying levels of effort from posters to handouts to hands-on activities to crafts to story tellers. I left with an armful of tourist magazines that quite a few people asked about later in the day. Priya found us somewhere in the country exhibitions and after a water break, we explored a craft exhibition that had the usual tourist crafts that you have to search through to find something unique and often feel pressured to buy anyway. My favourite two approaches were a woman telling us to buy something from them like a mother scolding a child and a man who envisioned this beautiful necklace upon my open chest (he was quite hilarious and I actually debated going back for the necklace). My favourite booth was of a pirate ship – created in all the glorious details and “floating” in the middle of the booth. The artisan was a potter/ceramics artist so all the little pirates were made of ceramics and they were diving for lost treasure – an assortment of pottery and ceramic beads on the bottom of the ocean (aka the bottom of the booth).

The “Schedule” had said the air show was on Saturday and much to our disappointment, we saw nothing. A quick call from Maria asking us where we were and we found out the air show was indeed on Sunday, meaning we hadn’t missed anything! The taxi driver made a quick detour for us and dropped us as close as he could to the seawall which ended up being several city blocks away from our destination of Celena’s to watch with Maria and her family! Cars were barely able to drive on the street because of parked cars and pedestrians. As soon as we were dropped off, planes started flying close above us – wowing the crowd and testing their smoke. The best was yet to come as the seven planes flew high in the sky, starting their spectacular show in the sky by writing “CARIFESTA X GUYANA” to roaring cheers from the crowd. From our point at Celena’s, we saw people gathered on the sea wall as far as the eye could see! The various tricks and stunts thrilled and shocked the crowd – amazing to see, but also amazing to take part in and stop breathing with the entire city and then collectively cheer at the successful stunt!

On Monday, Priya and I went to a poetry/short story reading at the Umana Yana. I had read the names of the authors present and was excited to see a familiar name, Austin Clarke, a former writer in residence at the University of Guelph! He read a chapter from his latest book. Many Caribbean countries were represented, some authors were better than others – perhaps just better at performing and sharing their pieces. Some pieces were quite powerful - leaving you with goosebumps on your skin, tears in your eyes, make you forget to breathe....

On Tuesday, we went to the International Convention Centre to see Calypso Dream, a documentary on calypso music in Trinidad. I have driven by the Convention Centre and always wanted to go in so I had no idea what to expect from the documentary, but chose it based on potential and the location! When you are driving in Guyana, the centre is one of those buildings that makes you stop and think “which one of these is not like the other?” My understanding is that it was designed, built and donated to Guyana by Japan. It’s huge, blue and shiny with an amazing auditorium built like a ‘pod’ at the back of the building and connected by halls and stairs in the open concept building. Probably the worst description ever, but I have pictures. The front entrance was hosting sculptures from two Guyanese abroad sculptors that were made of wood, brass, metal, and more! Each one was so unique and you could just see the time and craftsmanship in every part of it. The documentary itself left you wanting to dance and well versed in the roots and history of calypso.

On Wednesday, I tried to go see River Down, a Jamaican play at the National Cultural Centre, but had a bit of an adventure as I thought I had lost my keys and wasn’t going anywhere. I eventually found them in obviously the last place I thought to look and arrived late to find a huge crowd, more like a mob, gathered outside the NCC wanting into see the show. I learned that the 8pm showing was full, but due to demand they would be having a 10pm show if I wanted to stick around. The crowd was quite rowdy and there was a team of police officers to keep them semi-calm. Not the kind of situation that a single white female wants to find herself in at night so I called a car and left. I think it’s wonderful though in a sense. So many people wanting that cultural experience that they are rarely given the opportunity to see, especially for free…They want it, yearn for it… I hope Carifesta inspires more local fesitvals , both particpants, oragnizers and attenders…

On Thursday, I went to a poetry reading at Oasis. It was kind of neat because it was an impromptu session of a Trinidad woman who fell in love with the atmosphere at Oasis and some other authors she had met along the way. One of my favourite artists, a Guyanese women with spoken word poetry performed and now I love her work even more! Also a Barbadian with spoken word poetry – I’m going to try and find his CD. It wouldn’t be the same to read their poetry, the passion and rhythm is in the way they speak the words.

On Friday, I went back to the Convention Centre to see the Guyana Women’s Artist Exhibit which had been closed on my first trip. I bought some pottery from Irene Gonsalves and teased her that between the new pieces and other ones that I have purchased, I will have to buy a new carry-on luggage to make sure they get home safely! I had thought I was going to a documentary from Brazil called Terra Estranga so was obviously quite surprised to sit down and watch a semi-documentary/children’s film on Peking Opera from China. Luckily, Wallis saved me from watching the entire film for a visit and cake.

On Saturday, my new neighbour and I went to the Cliff Anderson Sports Hall and the Mandela Gymnasium to see visual art exhibits by country and local artist groups. I thoroughly enjoyed all parts of the exhibit. I was a proud Canadian to see a photograph exhibit essentially capturing various aspects of Canada from RCMP to veterans to ocean to mountains… It was like walking into home and having a little moment. We discussed how values are put on paintings and I have definitely decided that I am not ready to grow up and purchase paintings for my home! Or I will have to take up painting more seriously and decorate my own house. I finished the day with a trip to Oasis for a local band that performed some cover songs – and closed early to allow people to go to the super concert at the stadium featuring Akon – who actually did show up but not until 3am!!

And here I find myself today, posting on my week’s adventures. A little glimpse into Caribbean culture, a little sampling of all the areas presented at Carifesta!

A Visit from My Sister

My sister came to Guyana! I didn’t sleep the whole night before she came because I was so excited – and partly because I knew that she wouldn’t be getting any sleep on the plane! Navin and I arrived a little early and were eating our bake and saltfish when we realized her plane would have landed and we should get over the to the arrival area. It became a bit of a joke as various types of men and women of all ages and races came out of the luggage area with Navin exclaiming, “There’s your sister!” The guard wouldn’t let us in to see if there had been a problem with her luggage and finally as the last person came out, she told us that the plane from Trinidad had been delayed so she wouldn’t be back there anyways! (the airport monitor was broken). A couple of hours late, Lesa arrived tired, but happy to see me (or atleast she told me the tears were happy tears!) The rest of the day was rather uneventful as someone was apparently tired and slept the afternoon away!

The next morning we caught a flight from Ogle airport to Annai, a village in Region 9 and more specifically to Rockview Lodge. We were greeted by the apparent loss of our luggage (misplaced in the wrong storage compartment) and by our long lost sister, Andrica Holmes (a Guyanese from Region 1 working at the lodge – I knew I was part Guyanese!)! The lodge and Annai are located on the savannah with mountain ranges nearby (http://www.rockviewlodge.com/). We were greeted by lunch and then given a tour of the lovely grounds that was completed with a demonstration of how to roast cashews and a sample! After a few hours by the pool, we went for up the Panorama Nature Trail that was built on the Cock-of-the-Rock mountain, getting a lesson on the local flora, birds and some amazing views of the savannah below! The next morning we arose in the predawn darkness for coffee and cookies before heading out to the Iwokrama Nature Reserve for the canopy walkway. We happened to probably pick the only time of year when no trees are fruiting or flowering so there wasn’t a lot of activity for our 6:30am viewing of the tops of the trees, but the view was spectacular and it was a personal accomplishment to overcome my fear of heights and stand 30m above the floor of the rainforest and walk 154m in the trees! I personally napped upon our return to the lodge, but I think Lesa spent some quality time with a book in the hammock. We took full advantage of the pool before we left and even took a trip to the village of Annai to see the community with their thatched roof homes and the largest benab in Guyana (wider than the Umana Yana, but I think not as tall).

Birthday celebrations started upon our return to Georgetown with afternoon tea at Pegasus – can only be described as quaint with excellent service and cute little finger foods. Originally with no plans for a big party on the actual day, we started with drinks on the patio and a need for food found us at Windies Sports Bar. The final birthday celebration was a random assortment of Guyanese family and friends that I have collected over the past year. A lovely evening!

Saturday morning after a trip to Oasis for breakfast found us at Stabroek Market and the Hibiscus Craft Plaza for exploring and shopping. We thought the Carifesta air show was on Saturday, but the planes were a no show from our seat at Celena’s on the sea wall which was explained the following day after our trip to Sophia Exhibition grounds and the real air show took place – and all of Georgetown was on the sea wall to see it! For Lesa’s last night, we went for dinner and drinks at Pegasus, enjoying the ocean breeze, fruity cocktails and the closest thing to a real burger that I’ve found in Guyana.

Her departure was bittersweet – I wish she could have stayed longer, but the end of August means I am that much closer to going home myself.

Naya Zamana 14 at the National Cultural Centre

Last night, I went with Gina, Priya and Anu to see Naya Zamana 14 at the National Cultural Centre. Before the show, Gina, Priya and I went to Sizzling Platter, an Indian restaurant, where I enjoyed some delicious mango juice, along with my mango chicken curry and chapati. I don't remember what everyone else ordered, but it also looked tasty! And as per the name, all dishes arrived sizzling on a platter/skillet.

Naya Zamana is put on by the Guyana Hindu Dharmic Sbha to showcase the work of the dance students at the Dharmic Sandkritik Kendra. Two sisters are the choreographers and creators of the dance show, and offer free teaching of a variety of forms of dance to the students at the school. From the program, "Naya Zamana remains close to the heart of all the dancers, actors, performers nd persons who have worked with the sisters in this prestigiou hallmark production of the Sabha. Naya Zamana continues to reflect a passion for dance that encourages excellent, promotion of cultural art forms and positive vib rations and camaraderie among young people".

As we were arriving, the sirens wailed and the president's motorcade pulled into the theatre. We saw him in the lobby and Gina took stalkerish pictures. We were arranging to take our picture with him in the background when he moved and Priya said that we could probably just ask him to have our picture taken with him. So we did! Gina and I had our picture taken with the President of Guyana - don't worry, we had the permission of his bodyguard first before we asked him.

Anu had asked me as soon as tv ads started whether I wanted to go to the show, and I thought Gina would want to go and I kept forgetting to ask her. And then when we determined the three of us wanted to go, we still somehow left it until the last minute to pick up the tickets and as I was going to pick up the tickets, I asked Priya if she wanted to come too! I went to the Cultural Centre box office, picked up the tickets and went back to my other office, Oasis. At which point, I realized I had paid the price for floor seats and received balcony seats. Anu needed some more tickets so Iwent back only o find out hat I couldn't get four floor seats so we would be stuck in the balcony.

The balcony is exactly where we found Anu waiting for us - less excited about our picture with the president than we were, and perhaps still a bit disappointed about our seats in the nose bleed section. I definitely felt under-dressed in my black dress surrounded by women in their beautifully coloured and sparkling Indian garb. The father of the two choreographer sisters spoke, as a former minister in the government and I am assuming an involved member in Hindu community events. He introduced the President who spoke of the arrival in Guyana, preserving Indian culture and high hopes for Carifesta starting next week to further share with the Carribbean Guyana's cultural variety.

The show itself comprised of twenty dances, three songs and a grand finale. The costumes were spectacular with their vibrant colours and accessories. Some dancers were more skilled than others, but everybody had a lot of energy and passion for what they were doing. Experienced show goers tell me it wasn't as good as previous years, less synchronization and such, but I thoroughly enjoyed all the dances and costumes. It's handy having Anu around too to tell me about some of the dances like the Peer Manava which the program tells me now (and couldn't read in the dark) has "the dancers utilise energetic bhangra and giddha dance steps teasing the dulhan about her impending nuptials". One of my favourites was "Kachi Kaliya" called a "refreshing twist of Indian folk dance allowing male dancers to express both facets of human emotion" which they portrayed in dance by having a woman mask and dress on their back - enabling them to play their masculine dance role as well as do a role reversal and be a woman, somewhat mockingly in style.

Overall the evening was a spectacular show of dance, colour and music!

Fire in the Psych Ward, Dead Bird in the Cage

It sounds like the title for a mystery novel or an episode of a crime/drama series, but it's what happened in the early hours of this morning at the Georgetown Public Hospital Compound... and the surprise that awaited me at home at the end of the day.

I don't work in the Psych Ward, but I do work in the TB Chest Clinic - to visualize the Chest Clinic runs parallel to Middle St within the compound and the Psych Ward is perpindicular to the Chest Clinic, running parallel to Thomas St which intersects Middle St. The two buildings actually used to be one 'L' shaped building before a small space was created between the two. The Psych Ward consisted of a male and female psych ward, with the Medical Outpatient Department located in between.

I arrived after my morning walk to the hospital to be greeted by a crowd outside the gate to the compound. Some of the work study students were gathered outside and weren't sure what was going on, but the guard wasn't letting them in. I went to talk to the guard who wasn't going to let me in and told me there had been a fire at the Chest Clinic - at which point, I must have looked very upset because I wanted to know where in the Chest Clinic and if everybody was okay. I think at that point she remembered me and was like, oh, you work there, come in. I looked at the clinic and what I could see was fine, but then when I walked around the corner, I saw the smoldering remains of the Psych Ward, still smoking, still being soaked with water...

There is something about a fire and the destruction that it leaves behind. I was quite shaken. Nobody could confirm whether or not anybody had died and we all seemed drawn just to stand and watch the smoking remains. The Minister of Health was surveying the site - understandably not his usual upbeat self.

About forty five minutes later, we opened the Chest Clinic. I was so proud of the TB patients that had come despite the fire and waited for their daily DOTS treatment - they are the patients that really understand the importance of taking their treatment.

Though the outside wall at one end of the clinic had experienced some fire scarring, the fire had been stopped by the quick action of firefighters (as directed by the clinic director) to wet the building- and by the still morning which allowed the fire to burn straight up instead of spreading to another building. The damage within clinic was isolated to water damage of those chest x-ray envelopes. Luckily the work study students were allowed into the compound and under the direction of some nurses and along with some other health workers, went to work, drying off the x-rays and putting them in new envelopes.

No patients were seen at the clinic - many had heard about the fire as it was covered almost as it started on one of the local channels. And like a small town, word travels fast in Georgetown, well, in Guyana. There was no power or water at the clinic so I borrowed a PSU laptop and worked at my home away from home, Oasis cafe rather productively.

It was a bit of a rough start to the day and though I am pleased with the amount of work I got through without distraction, things didn't get any better when I went home. I had been looking after a pair of lovebirds for a friend and came home to find the female, dead at the bottom of the cage. It's probably been one of my greatest fears with my own pets and looking after someone else's. Looking back I can think of nothing that would have raised alarm that something was wrong with her. The man who helps out in the yard helped me find a place for her body. He seems to be doing alright -

It's incredibly sad, a lonely single lovebird. The worst was when he started to get sleepy and went up to the ring that they used to snuggle in together - and couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in because he used to snuggle into her neck. We'll be okay- he's eating, drinking and talking. We have each other! Will hopefully be able to pick up a new mate for him soon... no lovebird should spend too much time alone.

One of those days when you need a hug....

Recipe: Black Cake

A bit like fruit cake - only not! Can't eat too much or you might get drunk... Definitely a Christmas favourite!

Ingredients

• ¼ lb cherries
• 1 lb local dried fruits (or raisins)
• 1 cup rum
• 1½ lbs. brown sugar
• ½ teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• ½ lb flour
• 12 eggs
• 4 oz orange or lemon peel
• ½ lb butter

Preparation

• Grind dried fruits and soak it in 3 cups of rum. Store in an air tight container for three weeks.
• Prepare the caramel by heating 1 lb of the the sugar until it turns dark brown.
• Cream the butter and sugar. Add the eggs, soaked fruits, and rum. When it is well blended, pour the caramel.
• Add the flour with the baking powder and mixed spice.
• Fold in the cherries.
• Pour mixture in a baking pan and bake in a slow oven (about 300 degrees F.) for two hours. Remove cake from pan after two days.

http://guyanaoutpost.com/recipes/recipes-b.shtml#Black%20Cake

Trying to work

Work has been slow because the man that I primarily work with and helps me set up meetings with the right people, went on leave for four weeks. The others that I work with have very little time for what I do and for a little while I don't think they understood why I was still around after my internship ended. Just poor communication from one department to the next...

I am meeting the same frustrations with computer equipment as when I started. The process of obtaining computer parts is unknowingly sabotaging the success of the system. It is incredibly frustrating for me and the people that I am trying to work with that computers won't even turn on or are so slow that it is really a waste of time to use them.

I can understand that it's probably not an easy task to access the money - it seems to me like somebody recommends a part, but then somebody else has to get quotes and actually submit to purchase it, and then somebody else either aproves or rejects the purchase, and then hopefully the second somebody in the process picks up the money and buys the part so that the first person can install it. I can see this process taking a few weeks, but it is the months of waiting for parts that is frustrating me and the people at the clinic. I'm going to try again to find where the weak link is - I can't quit now at the clinic. We've worked so hard to get where we are.

I'll still continue... despite all the challenges... trying to work....

Working at the Clinic

I certainly have different emotions about work. The clinic itself that I work in has always had management issues, but they are getting worse. There is too much friction between staff, based on personalities, race and conflict of beliefs about how the clinic should be run. Those in a management role display very little leadership skills and don't respect their staff which in turn does not nurture respect in their staff. I hate to get involved with office politics, but when it affects the health information system that I am there to work with, then it becomes my business. The director has too much demand on his time to give the clinic the attention it so desperately needs. At the end of the day, it's the patients and the quality of care that they receive that suffers and that breaks my heart.

I am sure that it is not different from any other clinic, but it is my first clinic and everything is new to me. I have the added challenge of trying to introduce something new which there has definitely been resistance towards, less so now than in the beginning - but often not as much support or understanding for the system as I would like after this much time. I love the staff at the clinic and I have definitely felt very welcomed by them. A select few seem to know exactly when I need a little extra encouragement in my day and that is greatly appreciated. You can only do so much work and then wonder if it is really worth it before you need to hear it from somebody else that you do have purpose and your time is appreciated.

I can only hope and pray that somebody takes a leadership role at the clinic and that the staff learns to work better together despite all their differences. They all have so much to give and they could do so much for TB in Guyana if they saw the value in each other, respected each other and focused on the end goal of improving their current system and reducing the number of TB cases.

Have you ever....

eaten ginep?

ginep: tropical American tree bearing a small edible fruit with
        green leathery skin and sweet juicy translucent pulp
        [syn: spanish lime, honey berry, mamoncillo, genip]

If you haven't... you should!!

Baha'i Wedding

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." ~Emily Bronte

(quote on back of invitation and wedding ceremony program)

Yesterday I went to a Baha'i wedding ceremony. It was quite an adventure for Anu and I to find our way there - out in the middle of nowhere, sketchy street and neighbourhood, strange map... but we found it! The grounds were actually quite beautiful with the ceremony taking place on an outdoor pavilion starting right on time in Guyana. Invitation: 5pm, wedding ceremony: 5:40pm. The bridge and groom wore traditional Indian outfits and the guests were a mixture of family and friends from across Guyana and the world.

According to their website: "The Bahá'í Faith is the youngest of the world's independent religions. Its founder, Baha'u'llah, (1817-1892), is regarded by Bahá'ís as the most recent in the line of Messengers of God that stretches back beyond recorded time and that includes Abraham, Moses, Buddha, Krishna, Zoroaster, Christ and Muhammad.

The central theme of Bahá'u'lláh's message is that humanity is one single race and that the day has come for its unification in one global society. God, Bahá'u'lláh said, has set in motion historical forces that are breaking down traditional barriers of race, class, creed, and nation and that will, in time, give birth to a universal civilization. The principal challenge facing the peoples of the earth is to accept the fact of their oneness and to assist the processes of unification.

One of the purposes of the Bahá'í Faith is to help make this possible. A worldwide community of some five million Bahá'ís, representative of most of the nations, races and cultures on earth, is working to give Bahá'u'lláh's teachings practical effect. Their experience will be a source of encouragement to all who share their vision of humanity as one global family and the earth as one homeland". (http://info.bahai.org/bahaullah-basic-teachings.html)

The religion has no priests/pastors and no traditional format for a wedding ceremony, but a couple of faith leaders introduced the ceremony and the religion. Family and friends read selected poems and readings by Abdu'l-Baha, Kahlil Gibran, Baha'u'llah, Rumi and an Apache wedding blessing.

The wedding vows were quite simple, said first by the bride and then the groom, "We Will All Verily Abide by the Will of God". The parents of the bride and groom completed the ceremony by reading Abdu'l-Baha's recommendations for a strong marriage.

Coming from a rich cultural and religious background, the bride and groom exchanged wedding rings and used a selection from a Hindu wedding ceremony - plus signed the legal wedding documents!

Dinner was a buffet of fish, chicken, pork, beef, mashed potatoes, rice, coleslaw and veggies... It was alright, but unfortunately not very nice the next day. Sympathy from my landlady included a strict lesson: "you don't eat at these thing, you just drink!" Lesson learned.

Now you will feel no pain
For each of you will be shelter to the other
Now you will feel no cold
For each of you will be warmth of the other
Now there is no loneliness for you
For each of you will be companions to the other
Now you are two persons
But there is one life before you
Go now to your dwelling place
To enter the days of your togetherness
And may your days be good and long upon this Earth.
~Apache wedding blessing

Emancipation Day

Last Friday - August 1 - Guyana celebrated the 174th anniversary of Emancipation which was gained on August 1, 1834. According to the Office of the President, it was then, that full and final freedom was announced for all enslaved Africans throughout the British Caribbean from a system that was described as the most hideous and barbaric of human exploitation (http://opnew.op.gov.gy/).

I was one of thousands who took part in Emancipation Day celebrations at the National Park in Georgetown (http://www.kaieteurnews.com/?p=3983). The celebrations started early in the morning, but Gina and I with her husband went about mid afternoon. Other times that I have visited the National Park is usually to walk the track and to visit the manatees so I enjoyed the hustle - bustle of activity that we experienced before we even reached the gates, including men who walked up the road trying to sell us tickets for $400 when the entrance fee is $300... a version of ticket scalpers I guess that prey on people who are too lazy to wait in a two person line to purchase tickets from a ticket booth who has an endless supply!

The National Park has a stadium, a large track, various grassy fields for picnics or football and cricket games and a random area of buildings that I don't really know what they are used for. The entrance way greeted us with people selling cotton candy (candy floss, oops), straw hats, sunglasses, and the opportunity to get our picture taken on a painted backdrop [for the record, the painted backdrop cracked me up considering some of the beautiful scenery in this country that makes for an even better picture! even in GT].

Before I forget to mention, most people in attendance looked beautiful in their African-inspired fabrics and outfits. I loved when families all wore the same material with a variation in the design of the dress. I couldn't help but take some pictures though not as many as I would have liked!!

The stadium was packed with crowds sitting in the stands and starting to gather in the shade of the stands on the one side. The little stage seemed so far away, but not many people ventured into the sun to get a close look. The VIP tent had the best view, but I don't know the criteria to get a seat under it though I think the prime minister was there for a bit beside the steel pan band. It is a credit to one little boy's dancing skills that as soon as he started a huge crowd of people moved from the safety of the shade into the hot sun to see him move! And boy, could he move!

Around the track closest to the stadium was an assortment of booths selling various tasty food items, local crafts and the equivalent of dollar store finds. I bought a bracelet made of a coconut shell (Mom, trade for mine back?), but laughed with the vendor when the necklaces he was suggesting I buy, I already own!!

We took a trip around the track so that I could introduce Gina and Taylor to my manatee friends who were very social and to just enjoy the beauty of the park, especially the breeze in the shade! We watched a few dance routines in the stadium before calling it a day - not without picking up some cotton candy on the way out!!

The afternoon was young as we left, definitely with more people coming in than going out so much so that we couldn't leave from one gate, but had to exist from another!



More from the President's Office: On this occasion of Emancipation Day that brought freedom to African ancestors, the Government of Guyana is joining with all Guyanese to pay tribute to their heroism and resoluteness in the face of adversity. “Guyanese should think of the suffering and the sacrifice of our African ancestors. Let us on Emancipation Day steadfastly determine to uphold a mutual respect, appreciation, and understanding of each other. Guyana is especially proud of its illustrious mosaic of nationhood, a cultural mosaic that will endure infinitely in this beautiful land that is our home,” the President’s message stated (http://opnew.op.gov.gy/).

Escape from Georgetown

On Thursday, Gina and I went for all-you-can-eat pizza night (mmmmm....) and randomly met a man that I knew through CIDA who is working on a project in Guyana for Natural Resources Canada. He would be traveling to an Amerindian village for work on Saturday and had room in his vehicle for two if we were interested. Sure!

So yesterday we arose in the pre-dawn darkness (well, actually at 5:30am the sun is starting to come up) to meet him for 6:30am and start on our adventures. We were traveling to Rockstone, an Amerindian village south of Linden on the Essequibo River. The road from Georgetown to Linden is paved (80km=1 hour) and people aren't joking when they say the highway ends there. On the other side of Linden, we found a red dirt road, made bumpy by large holes. The 18km road took just as much time as the trip from Linden to Georgetown - our driver was very talented at driving around the holes and thankfully slowed down when he had to drive through one. When we reached the village, we were greeted by the Tashao (chief) and the CIDA contacts. Our first sights were of a long dirt red road heading north of the village, children playing, splashing in a nearby creek, and a white & blue GT&T phone booth that appeared not to be connected to any lines, but would ring randomly and be answered by whoever was passing by. Though Gina and I would have stayed at the outside patio/shop where they were going to be discussing plans for an ornamental fish holding tank in the village, we were given permission to walk in the village towards the river.

The main village is behind a fence - kind of like a gated community where no vehicle enters without somebody knowing about it. We were told that the river was high and we wouldn't be able to walk to the edge, and that we could ask at the shop further down to see how far we could go. We wandered aimlessly down the dirt road, enjoying the quiet, the birds, the breeze - just being out of Georgetown! When we reached the shop, we were greeted by a contingent of people who insisted on sending the children as our guide to the river. They were happy to have ears to listen to their problems of high waters and not receiving flood relief, and about the rising cost in food prices.

The water had risen high enough that both sides of the road had become like a wet swamp and we didn't make it close to the river's edge because of large puddles on the road. The children were semi-amused by us and curious - especially at our reaction to the sounds of a baboon! We missed seeing three jump the trees across the road a few minutes earlier, but there is no chance that we could have missed the loud noise - like a charging warthog, though I have never heard one of those either. Definitely scary sounding! And very thankful that we had calm children walking with us.

We had a little picnic lunch in the shade, protected from the rain showers that kept coming and going... It was interesting listening to the plans that were being made for the business, hearing about other village enterprises involving a middle man, and watching the social activities taking place at this common area in the village. We took one more walk to the river before heading back to Georgetown. The fresh air and exercise made the day just fly by - and made for an early night because we were exhausted!

Recipe: Cheese Straws

Compliments of http://guyanaoutpost.com/recipes/

Ingredients

6 oz butter
8 oz flour
8 oz (2 cups) grated cheese
½ tsp salt
½ tsp pepper, optional
1 tsp. mustard
2 eggs, separate yolks from white
¼ cup cold water

Preparation

• Rub the butter into the flour. Add the grated cheese, salt, pepper and mustard and mix thoroughly.
• Add beaten egg yolks and cold water to make a stiff dough.
• Roll out about ¼ in thick. Cut into strips 2½ in x ½ in and twist like "twittlers" or make into any variety of shapes desired.
• Place the straws on a baking sheet and bake at 400°F for about 15 minutes, or until golden brown.

Puja Ceremony

Yesterday I attended a beautiful Hindu thanksgiving ceremony, or a Puja ceremony, at my friend Anu's house. I was so pleased to be invited by her brother and that they allowed me to extend the invitation to my new neighbour, Gina as well.

I didn't know a lot about the ceremony when I arrived and learned a little bit from watching and from Anu: "The puja that was performed yesterday by my brother and sister in law is a Hanuman Puja. Hanuman is worshipped as a symbol of physical strength, persevance and devotion. Hindus perform Hanuman pujas to either give thanks to God for continuous good health and prosperity or to remove any difficulties, grief, sorrow or a likelihood or impending unhappiness in one’s path. Hanuman pujas are only performs on Tuesdays and Saturdays."

The ceremony was presided over by a Hindu priest and located on the floor of the living room. Some guests sat on the couches that had moved to another room or against the wall, but Anu wanted Gina and I to have the full experience so we sat barefoot, cross legged on sheets in front of the ceremony. The ceremony was beautiful. I wish I understood what was being said, but the ceremony was essentially a series of prayers, blessings and songs. Offerings of flowers were done, fire was lit, incense burned. From the small fragments of English that were spoken, I recognized connections to my religion - "from darkness to light" - when the fire was lit. Blessings were done with water, recognizing the senses and I wish I could remember the prayers that were said for each one because they were beautiful and universal (lips, ears, feet, etc). Anu's brother and sister-in-law had arranged the ceremony and assisted the priest by performing the offerings. I love that when he was doing an offering or arranging something, her hand was touching his as if the two hands were doing the one task and vice versa.

The final activity was a blessing from elders to the children of the family. They all took a plate adorned with flowers and a deis, and created three circles in the air before putting the plate down, touching the feet of their elder and touching their forehead as their elder placed their hand on the child's shoulder. This was especially moving and beautiful as I know it was the first celebration in Anu's house since the death of her mother and one blessing was missing from this routine.

At the end of the ceremony, two bamboo poles were brought into the house (interesting navigating them) and both ends were blessed and red flags tied onto them. These are then placed outside at the front of the house. You see these flags in front of houses all the time - so it's kind of neat that when I see these flags, I will know I was a witness to their ceremony.

I confess my foot fell asleep and was extremely painful so I tried to wiggle my toes and not keep my legs in one position too much - I noticed the priest and others present were doing something similar so I didn't feel too bad.

I would have been quite happy watching and participating in the ceremony, but no function is complete without food! And they certainly know how to feed you!! I ate off a water lily leaf with my hands - and I loved it!! The "dish" is called seven curry. And I hope I get this right, but the base is rice with dhal and it is served with pumpkin curry, potato and chickpea curry, khatahar curry, mango curry, spinach curry and achar - with puri which is like roti only not (better!). Anu teased me that I had to eat with my hands, but I know if I was really struggling than she would have let me use a spoon. I made out okay!! Anu's niece was very helpful teaching me how to eat (mix everything together - which I did after trying everything separately) and telling me her favourite (mango curry! mmmm). Just when I thought I couldn't eat anymore, they bring around the rice pudding for which you fold your leaf in half and eat off the back. It is similar to rice pudding at home though instead of just making it with milk, it is made with evaporated milk and sweet condensed milk, making it super sweet and rich!!

Afterward we enjoyed the breeze on the balcony and let our stomachs settle. A lovely afternoon.

Tuberculosis in Guyana

Though my main task at the Georgetown Chest Clinic has been increasing the usage of the GHIS and helping the staff to incorporate the system into their daily routine, I had to first learn how the clinic works to learn how to make the system work for them - and to help the doctors learn the system, I inadvertently learned how to treat tuberculosis (TB)!

When people come to the clinic, they have usually been referred by their doctor or MOPD (Medical Outpatient Department) - or they are a TB contact or just want to be tested. For those who are a contact or want to be tested, the first step is a Mantoux test (aka skin test, tuberculin test or PDD test - purified protein derivative). The tuberculin is inserted into the top layers of the skin, usually on the arm. The site reacts immediately to the volume of liquid injected by creating a bump, but if done correctly, this is absorbed quickly. The site should be read 48-72 hours after the injection and the health care worker is looking at the amount of swelling (creates a palpable, raised, hardened area), not redness or bruising. The test is read in millimeters and a standard positive reading is greater than 15mm, but this varies depending on whether the health status or exposure of an individual. Individuals with kidney disease, diabetes or working in the health field, are considered positive at 10mm and an individual who is immuno-compromised (i.e., HIV positive) is considered to have a positive TB test at 5mm.

A positive test means that an individual has been exposed to the TB bacteria in the past and has a TB infection. It is possible to have a TB infection, but not to have TB disease. The concern is that if you have TB infection, you could develop TB disease. My understanding is that we don't treat infection in Canada unless immuno-suppressed or in a specific work setting (health care, schools), but it is standard here to prescribe anyone infected prophylaxis treatment of isoniazid and B6 to prevent the disease and the vitamin to prevent side effects of the treatment.

If you are testing positive for TB infection and have the symptoms (cough for more than two weeks, night sweats, fever, weight loss, loss of appetite) then the next step is to get a chest x-ray done (anterior-posterior) and do a sputum test. The sputum test involves coughing up sputum (or "cold" in Guyana, aka the thick stuff in your lungs that you can bring up when you breathe deeply, especially when sick) into a cup which we send to the lab. The lab does a AFB sputum microscopy test which tests for the number of tuberculosis bacterium in the sample. A negative sample means there are no bacteria (or not enough to be detected by regular microscopy - at which point doctor may ask for sputum culture which will grow bacteria if there are any there) or a sample can be positive (1+, 2+, 3+, 4+) which reflects the number of bacteria in the sample.

A normal chest x-ray shows black air space in the shape of lungs with light rib markings. Lung disease is characterized by opacities. I am not sure how different pneumonia looks from tuberculosis, but if pneumonia is suspected (not TB), then they will be prescribed antibiotics that would treat pneumonia - doesn't work, treat for TB! Often chest x-rays will show cloudiness in specific lobes of the lung or blurred angles of the lung. If there is fluid, then you can often see a line to see how high it is. Another type of TB is miliary tuberculosis (most common is pulmonary TB). I think miliary TB can occur anywhere in the body, but it is characterized on chest x-rays by a "millet" pattern that looks like millet seeds.

If tuberculosis is suspected somewhere else on the body (can occur in any organ, bone, lymph nodes etc) then the only conclusive test is a biopsy, but quite often it is diagnosis by treatment. The cases I have seen are noticeable masses protruding from the spine or neck. Treat for tuberculosis and if the mass shrinks, correct diagnosis! Once a diagnosis of TB has been made, there is a standard treatment of four drugs (isoniazid, rifampicin, pyrazinamide and ethambutol) every day for 2-3 months then only the first two drugs every other day for 4-6 months. A supplement of B6 is also taken. Obviously more education and other criteria required, but that's the basics.

The DOTS program is the WHO standard for curing TB. It stands for Directly Observed Treatment Short-course. The number one reason for not completing treatment is that patients start to feel better two months after taking the drug, but the bactera is very tough and needs the combination and long term treatment to kill all of them. With the DOTS program (theoretically), a health care worker visits you every day and gives you your treatment to take. A DOTS worker should be aware of their patient's attitude and how they are feeling. The DOTS program is supposed to have a 90% cure rate, but I think it is only 60% in Guyana. Not all workers take their job seriously and not all patients understand the seriousness of not treating the disease. If someone misses one month of treatment, they are called a re-treatment case, but if they miss more than two months, then they are considered a defaulter. The program has been increasing their activity to catch these defaulters.

There has been a rise in multi-drug resistant TB in Guyana which is very scary. It is related to defaulting on treatment, multiple treatment restarts and allowing bacteria to build a resistant to the standard TB treatment drugs. There are second-line drugs and even third-line drugs that can be used, but it is not a desirable situation to have multiple MDR cases with active TB (spreading the disease).

If all goes well, TB is curable! I wish everyone at the clinics and the National TB Program the best of luck as they continue to monitor and treat this disease. It has its challenges, but if they are all committed and work together, I know they will do great things for TB in this country - as in get rid of it!!

The Colour of My Skin

I don't tan. On a scale, I usually go from white to pink to red - often with blisters. And when that starts to fade, it goes backwards on the same scale. Living in a tropical country for over six months has made my skin change its mind and think that maybe it would like to go more of a variety of colours. Upon discussing it with a friend, I decided that despite my excessive use of sunscreen, my skin is what you could call a darker shade of white. Not tan, but like the scale that comes in a box with a teeth whitening kit, a darker shade of white... with more freckles... and subtle "tan" lines for lack of a better term. Regardless of what you want to call the colour of my skin, I am white.

I've always been white. I've known since I discovered that somebody could not be white. Wherever I've lived, I've been a part of the majority - not by choice, that's just how it worked out. Everywhere that is, until Guyana.

Ethnically, Guyana is 30% Afro-Guyanese, 44% Indo-Guyanese, 16% mixed, 9% Amerindian, 1% other which includes Portugese, Chinese and other European. I am in that other category. I remember all the stares when I first came. Don't mind them, Maria would say, it's a Guyanese thing to stare. In areas I frequent, the staring has become less and less surprising to me when I go to a new place. I catch myself staring sometimes now when I see a white person on the street. Like Sesame Street, which one of these is not like the other... A taxi driver laughed when he caught me - now you know what you look like on the street.

While at home for a bit, my first visit to a large restaurant had me overwhelmed by the number of people. I remember commenting to my dad, there's so many white people...

When I say people stare less, that's not entirely true - men never tire of letting me know that they have 'spotted' me with kissy noises, whistles, calls of 'whitey', 'sexy', 'blondie' (I'm a brunette)... calls of chubby or reference to my weight are less common, but still happen which in itself brings memories of childhood teasing though the trait is somewhat desirable. 'Snow Queen' was one of the more recent ones that brought a smile to my face, reminding me of winter and the cold heart that he must think I have for not acknowledging him. I always ignore them. Walk straight by, no reaction - sometimes hide a smile, sometimes curse them under my breath - depends on how the rest of my day has been going. This spurs comments of oh, too goo to talk to Guyanese which hurts, but I know is untrue and so do my friends here.

I learned recently that all this is partly due to when men see me, they see the white girl in the television show or movie who is open to flings and casual sex. We can differentiate that not all girls are like that, it's just a tv show - they don't, it's the often the only exposure to white girls they have. Damn North American media. The rest is in part to women who do come here for x amount of time, away from family and friends, and feel free to act how they choose, with whomever, forgetting or not caring about the precedence they set.

I'm not sure whether it was particularly bad this week or whether I just noticed it more for whatever reason, but I found myself coming home at the end of the day and feeling like a piece of meat. It's a hard feeling to shake.

At the clinic, people usually assume I'm a doctor. You're not? A nurse? Oh. Frown. I can't help but feel like I have been given these professions because of my skin. I was in the ward once and the head nurse wanted to make sure that I knew they needed a sink by the central desk. She pointed out the number of nurses and showed me their existing sink. Well, yes. I understand the need for a sink, I think to myself, but what do you expect me to be able to do about it? But she doesn't see me. She sees the colour of my skin, the foreign organization she assumes I am a part of, and the money that I could potentially direct the spending of.

I let an old woman in front of me in line at the grocery store the other day. I'd already let a man in front of me to exchange an item. It's not that I believed her claim that she only had a few things to buy (I had less). It's because I knew that when she went home, she would not remember the three other people before me who refused to let her cut in, she would remember the rude young white girl. The bag boy smiled apologetically.

I had someone ask me once how my family would feel about a black boyfriend. They wouldn't care, I said, as long as he loved me and was good to me. I asked my mom just to double check - he must be able to make you laugh too. Good criteria for any relationship, regardless of skin colour.

White Girl in Guyana

The continuing saga of my feet in a tropical country...

You'd think I'd learn my lesson and not walk around barefoot. You'd think that having hookworm was enough of a lesson that I'd never take my shoes off. And you'd think wrong...

Actually it might not have been my fault. It could have just been a dusty situation. Or it could have been me walking carelessly without shoes on... again... why aren't my feet tougher?!

Not so bad this time, don't worry. Just a chiggar bite. Which from my understanding, the flea-thing kind of burrowed in and laid some eggs, creating a capsule. I like to think that the capsule was created by my body to keep the creature contained. The pain came when it wanted to be bigger than the capsule. The chiggar itself is really really small. And I am obviously an atypical case with only one bite and no itching, just pain. Luckily I have a handy doctor friend, Abiot, who takes good care of me and performed surgery on my apartment patio with a sterile needle, various contents of my first aid kit and a Heineken to hydrate himself.

The hole in my foot is healing nicely and I will remember this... and the hookworm... the next time I think about walking anywhere barefoot...

Yes, my feet will probably need counseling and severe pampering when they go home. They have experienced a couple of nightmares and are very nervous about new things or anything touching them.

And as always, photo journal available for anyone who is interested.

Ola!

Brazil was an experience.

Buses were key to the trip - both as the mode of transportation to get to and from Brazil, but also as an adventure in the city trying to get around. In total, we spend over 50 hours on buses including three nights! Only a couple of breakdowns and one big mud puddle that made the Wildcat Trail look like a highway. In Brazil, they like their buses chilled to freezer temperature which for a Canadian living in a tropical country for too long is way too cold to function.

Boa Vista, capital of Roraima province, was a stepping stone on our way to Manaus, capital of Brazil's largest province, Amazonas. Highlights would be a buffet restaurant with make your own sundaes and air conditioned bookstore that allowed us to purchase a Portugese-English dictionary and hang out for several hours, learning words and checking emails. [Note: they were called Nobel librarie which was too perfect - I missed my Grandma's Nobel family reunion that weekend, but long lost distance relatives created a bookstore chain that took care of me]

Manaus. To see it, you would never believe you were in a city in the Amazon Rainforest. All the hustle and bustle, tall buildings and modern stores of a North American city with areas of European charm. Our hostel was close to the famous operahouse Teatro Amazonas an d it was our favourite place to be, either inside on tour or listening to a free concert by a so-so American choir... or at night, basking in its light, drinking Heineken, eating specialty desserts, listening to live Spanish music... or in day, sitting on a bench in its square, enjoying the sights, writing postcards.

The theatre was completed in 1896. It took twenty years to build with material being brought in from Europe and shipped down the Amazon River. Even the wooden setas were made of Amazon rainforest tree wood that was shipped to Europe to be processed and brought back. It is magnificent. Beautiful paintings on the ceilings and walls, detailed wood floors in the ballroom, stunning light fixtures. A true gem. An interesting history lesson on the money and process, plus some pictures: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazon_Theatre

The Amazon River starts in Peru and is made up of a series of rivers, and is divided into several parts like the Upper Amazon (history: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazon_River#Origins_of_the_river). Two such rivers that make up the Amazon are the Rio Negro and Rio Solimões. They join at a place called Meeting of the Waters - the incredible place where two distinct bodies of water meet, but don't mix. One is black, slow, small, cold and high mineral content while the other is brown, fast, large, warm and high sediment content. It's like mixing water and oil only not to that extreme, but you can see the distinct line where they meet. At the harbour before seeing this incredible phenomenon, we saw a fish with lungs and gills!!

Took some time before our bus left Manaus to hang out at... a mall! with... a movie theatre! Watched "Get Smart" in English with Portugese subtitles in air conditioned goodness with all our bags spread out around us.

Fruits were delicious. The pizza was good. The Heineken was cheap. We loved Brazil!

Before we left Lethem, a beautiful double rainbow showed itself by the mountains. Red dirt roads, green green fields, grey mountains, blue skies, bright rainbow - quite sight!!

Let's just say that we survived the bus ride back to Georgetown... twenty hours later... barely... and I can't wait to go back to Brazil!!