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!
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Recipe: Cheese Straws
Compliments of http://guyanaoutpost.com/recipes/
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
Ingredients
6 oz butter8 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.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
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!!
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!!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
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
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
Friday, July 11, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
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!!
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!!
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