Saturday, August 26, 2006

Conversations

Ok, here's a real weekend treat for yall. Since I may not have internet for a while, I've decided to do two posts today. After reading this post, scroll down for more Guyanese fun.

Below are actual excerpts from conversations with the locals.

Guyanese man at market: Hey where are you from?
Me: The United States
Guyanese man: Oh really? You speak English very well.
Me: Well thank you but I was born and raised there.
Guyanese man: Yes, but you speak English very well. Where are your parents from?
Me: My parents are from Taiwan, but English is my native language.
Guyanese man: Your accent is very good.
Me: Um, thank you.

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Volunteer looking to purchase a camera: Can I see that camera behind the glass?
Guyanese woman working at the store: I only have the key to this side of the glass. Come back tomorrow and I will get the key to the other side.
Volunteer: I’m leaving town tomorrow. Do you think you can just reach your arm in and get it for me?
Guyanese woman looks annoyed and reaches in for the camera.
Volunteer: So what is the return policy on this?
Guyanese woman: If there is something wrong with it, then bring it back and we’ll fix it up right for you.
Volunteer: Can I get a refund if I don’t open the package and bring it back as is?
Guyanese woman (exasperated): This isn’t the United States! You cannot just buy something and change your mind!!

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Me: Can you please tell me how to get to Oasis?
Guyanese Man working in the store: Yes, you get in a cab and tell him to take you there.

Me: Can you please tell me how to get to Oasis?
Guyanese Man on street: (points in a general direction)
Me: So I just walk down this street? Will it be to my left or right?
Guyanese Man: Just go down for a little bit, then turn left up ahead and go down there.
Me: How far down do I go before I turn left?
Guyanese Man: Just keep going. You’ll see it. No problem.

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Me: How much for a mini-bus from Soesdyke to Friendship?
Guyanese neighbor: You pay $100 to Friendship, right? Make sure you don’t ask the bus driver or he will try to charge you more.

Me: How much for a mini-bus from Soesdyke to Friendship?
Byron: Umm $120, maybe $140.

Me: How much for a mini-bus from Soesdyke to Friendship?
Guyanese security guard: Exactly $80.

When it Rains, It Pours

This is a long post I had written during orientation but never published. Since elections are coming up, I won’t be coming in town for a while, which means sporadic internet connection. Enjoy while you can… (btw- yay I can upload pics now!)


So I've been spending some serious time with Mother Nature lately. Much of my days are spent doing orientation type things: lesson planning, doing our teaching practicum, listening to sessions on Guyanese culture and safety, and visits from the Peace Corps nurse. (Side note: The nurse told us we weren’t allowed to have pet monkeys. Boo.)

The rest of the time we have fun activities planned for us or free time to do whatever we want. This past weekend we went on a one hour hike through the rainforest to an abandoned beach village. It was breathtaking. The walk was so tranquil and cathartic… until it started pouring down rain and we were sloshing through the mud. Then it turned into a cool, rejuvenating, and dirty hike.

Hike through the rainforest. Hiking makes me hungry.

Volunteers enjoying an afternoon at Beacon Beach

The next day we took the most beautiful speedboat ride down the Masaruni River to check out Marshall Falls. The water reflected all the colors and detail of the thick wall of trees and the fluffy white clouds sitting upon the clear blue sky that it doubled the beauty surrounding us. It was absolutely enchanting riding down the river… until it started pouring down rain and the harsh droplets smashed against our bare skin.

Once we got off the speedboat, we hiked through the rainforest stopping every once in a while to admire certain plants until we made it to Marshall Falls. The water there was a deep wine red, dyed by the leaves and iron from the dirt.

Red Red Wine

Our guide then told us to take off our shoes so we could climb up the waterfall into the cave behind it. Now if we were in the US, everyone would be given lifejackets and helmets, watch a safety video on how to climb slippery mossy rocks, then sign a release form. But since we’re in a third world country, we just kicked off our shoes, slowly climbed up through the cascading water, and sat back in the cave admiring the underside of Marshall Falls.

Yay! No lawsuits here. Everyone made it up without a scratch.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Mini-Bus FAQs

Ever since I got to my site, the only form of public transportation I’ve had is the mini-bus. The name sounds misleading so I’ve decided to do an FAQ session about mini-busses in Guyana.

What is a mini-bus?
A mini-bus is a small van that can legally seat 15 people, but usually seats 20 or more. They drive like 16-year-old boys who just obtained their license and had about 3 bottles of beer before jumping in the driver seat. They drive along the road and pick up passengers randomly along the way. Think of it as a big cab you have to share with everyone.

What does a mini-bus look like?
You can recognize it by the reggae music blasting about a mile away. When sitting in a mini-bus your eardrums tickle and your clothes vibrate from the bass.

When it drives closer, you can see colorful stickers and labels on the front window with prominent United States rappers and/or their rap songs and/or the driver's girlfriend’s name (e.g.: G-unit, Feel da Rhythem [sic], Magic Stick, Howard and Christina for-eva)



Mini-bus

This is what a pretty mini-bus would look like. I have yet to see one.

How do I pick a mini-bus?
I’ve been told by the US Embassy that we should choose our mini-busses carefully. The road I live off of is the East Bank Highway, and by “highway” I mean a 2 way street that pedestrians and cows walk along as well. Oftentimes drivers will turn the two lanes into three lanes and will not slow down for pedestrians or oncoming traffic. They will, however, start braking a mile away if they see a cow.

To pick a mini-bus, you should find the oldest rattiest one. Why? Because this means it’s been driving for a long time and still hasn’t gotten in an accident.

Also, on a side note, my biggest fear is no longer getting a malaria or typhoid, but that I will get run over by a mini-bus since there are no side walks.

How do I catch one?
You just stick your hand out like you’re hailing a cab. Point straight to go all the way into town, point down to stop somewhere in the middle, and point up to go to the airport. One will stop and pick you up. If the bus is full, the driver will stick his hand out the window and shrug. Wah-Wah.


Can you tell me about your experience so far in a mini-bus?
One day we walked out to catch a mini-bus going into town. (town= Georgetown, not short for the name, but because it is the only town in the country.) Outside there was a man named Byron who shouted across the street, “Hey Chinese girl, you know [last year’s volunteer]”

He came over and offered to catch a mini-bus for us. He let a couple pass and I asked him if he was really catching us one.

“One come just now, right? No problem, no problem”
“No, not just now Byron, I want a mini-bus right now.”

The sun was vicious that morning and we were sweating buckets. Byron tried a few more times and they wouldn’t stop for him or he let them pass. This charade continued for 25 minutes before I got tired of his lackadaisical attitude and told him he had one more chance. When the next bus flew by, I fired him, walked up the street and caught a mini-bus in 45 seconds.

Mental note: Don't let Guyanese men hail mini-busses for you.

Monday, August 21, 2006

A Long Ferry Tale

Traveling to another “city” in a third world country can actually be pretty complicated. A few days after we arrived in Guyana, we left the capital due to the upcoming election and the pending riots/shootings/chaos. (If you’re at all interested, the presidential elections are going to be on Mon, August 28th. If you’re at all worried, I’m living 45 minutes from the capital and there’s an emergency evacuation plan in place so we’ll all be safe and sound. If you’re still reading this then you must be my mom, and I promise I’m fine. Foreigners aren't a target.)

To get from Georgetown to Bartica, we had to take a 1 hour bus ride, then a 5 hour ferry ride. In the US, a ferry is a nice wide barge that you might be able to drive your car onto and conductors let you board in an orderly fashion. In Guyana it’s a little different.

We were told we could drive our van with all the suitcases onboard, but the boat was already at full capacity because they had to fit to a few cows, 200 camp kids, and some furniture. Cows are very important in this country... I'll discuss more about them later. Even though we got there early, the “entrance area” of the boat was completely barricaded with all of the above. The only option for us to get on the boat was to have two of the male volunteers climb onto the railing of the second floor of the ferry and toss each other all fifty pieces of super heavy luggage.

I was still on land helping to facilitate the suitcase toss when the boat gave two loud tugs signaling it was ready to depart. I was left with no other choice than to climb up the two levels of railing, only to find myself hanging off the side of the boat.

There was still one volunteer behind me who was getting a little nervous about the boat leaving and asked me to step in. The people on the boat were standing shoulder to shoulder and there was no room for me to move down. Again I had no other choice but to balance my feet on the railing, hope that I didn’t slip since my health insurance doesn’t cover this, and monkey bar across the length of the boat until I found a spot where I could jump into the ferry.

Once the ferry set sail, I found myself in the hot sun with about an inch of space between me, the railing, the volunteers, some locals and our suitcases. It didn’t take long before I realized I could climb over everyone to the other group sitting on top of 100 boxes of vodka, then down the stairs to the ship crew. We befriended the cook- who shared his rum and some fried fish, a local kid- who shared her fruit and chips, and occupied ourselves during the best ferry ride ever.
Ferry Feet
Third world country transportation. Ferry riders jump down on the speed boats to bring them to their destination.

Crowded Ferry
The crowded 5 hour ferry ride.


Super Crowded Ferry
Again none of these pics are mine since blogger doesn't like to load them for me.


Blogger’s note: These stories are not told in real time as many Americans are used to. Some stories may be posted out of order, such as this one. We've already left Bartica and took the speed boats back into Georgetown, which took about an hour, but we got pelted with heavy rain that felt like hail. We just can't win.
I’ve arrived at my site in Soesdyke and I love it. Our landlords are so helpful and friendly. The first night we arrived, they went into town 45 mins away to get us food. That evening they brought me a mosquito net, fresh water and made sure we were safe. I still have more stories, but one at a time.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Miss Understanding

We started the teaching practicum part of orientation last week. Students in Bartica signed up to sit in class for a week to be our guinea pigs. We only expected 20 students total but ended up with 100. Apparently they were really excited to have teachers who don't know what they're doing practice on them like a science experiment.

On the first day of class, we made the students go around and say their names (which I couldn't understand so we made them write it down) and a place they would like to go to. Most students said Jamaica or the US. One said he would like to go to Heaven. Another said Iraq, but spelled it eRock.

They're always very polite and greet us with "Miss." Everything is "Miss, yes Miss" or "Thank you Miss", or "Good morning Miss." It's been a struggle trying to understand their accents. I'll ask the class if they have any questions, then I can't understand anything they say. I asked a student to repeat his question twice that he finally gave up and said, "Miss, nevermind Miss." Later the students were talking with our field director and told her that Americans can't hear very well.

Monday, August 14, 2006

Gold Digger

I had originally started a post about my new found love of nature and all the quality time I've been spending with it lately. But after reading it over, I sounded too much like a hippie so I decided to write about something more interesting: how to be a gold digger in Guyana.

Apparently at the bottom of the river, there are specs of gold that divers scoop up. These specs are no larger than a grain of sand. They use mercury to meld it together then extract the mercury and out comes a lump of gold. The river is 270 feet deep so being a gold digger is dangerous, but not a bad way to supplement a teacher's salary.

ps- My camera got wet so you'll have to wait for more pics. (sorry Mom!)

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Waist Knot, Want Not

I'm a little nervous. There were two things I was pretty sure I would have when I got here, but I don't.

I was pretty certain I would get some kind of ailment from traveling, being exposed to the intense tropical climate, and eating and drinking sustenance that my stomach isn't familiar with. Some of the volunteers have already gotten sick, but luckily it hasn't been anything too detrimental. I'm feel like I'm just waiting for something to hit me.

The other thing I was pretty certain I would have is water. I mean it's so plentiful, right? For the past week, we've been in Bartica and although the dorms here are luxurious compared to the dorms in Georgetown, it does not have a water well. The water that we've been using is collected in big black tanks when it rains. When that water is depleted, we have to do a little rain dance.

The Gods must have been smiling down at us the day we ran out of water. All the toilets were unflushed, laundry was undone, and people were unbathed. Basically, it was smelly. That afternoon it downpoured like no other rainstorm I've seen. All the volunteers ran outside, and many like myself were carried and forced to enjoy the cool rain. We danced, wheelbarrowed and played with the local children in the rain. Someone brought out bottles of shampoo and we all took the most refreshing shower outside in the fields.
Hopefully it rained enough for us to continue having a steady supply of water. But now after I hand wash my clothes, I use the dirty water to flush the toilets. Americans make up 5% of the world's population, but use 15% of the world's fresh water. Don't waste water... it's precious.

A rainbow over Bartica Secondary School after the rain

How not to take a bucket shower: fill up your water first

Not my picture. I'm not that good of a photographer. This is off the Essequibo River near Bartica.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Learning English in English

Whoever said that people in Guyana speak English was tricking me. They speak a form of English called Creolese and I don't understand a single word any local has said. I'm not sure how teaching these kids are going to go because I'm going to spend all period just trying to figure out their question. I might need a English to English translator to follow me around everywhere I go.

The British really left their mark here since they spell everything weird that I almost feel like I'm learning a new language. Tires is tyres, color is colour, center is centre.

Here's a quick lesson in the Guyanese English language:

- Just Now: In a minute, in an hour, in a week, in a year, or any indeterminate amount of time. I'll return your book just now.

- When School is closed: Summer break since all seasons are summer here.
What did you do when school was closed?

- What are you using: Can I get you a drink?
Hey Chinese girl, what are you using?

- Where is your face?: How come you're not wearing any make-up?
Miss, where is your face?


Everyone here also drives on the wrong side of the road.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Guyana, Land of Many Waters

There's just so much to say and so little time to say it all in. First of all, Guyana is such a great and wonderful country. Today I went swimming in the Essequibo river with cows. There are cows, goats and roosters at the dorm we're staying at, but I'll get to all that another time. I have so much to catch yall up on, so I've decided to make a list of the good, the bad and the ugly of Guyana. Also I still cannot load pics yet so I will need you to prepare a red, green and black crayon so you can draw in the visuals yourself. Here goes:

The Good
- Meeting all the volunteers and getting to know them. There are rocket scientists, former teachers, engineers, geniuses, 2 Canadians and people who've traveled to the most exotic places in the world. Each person has a different story and background, and everyone is so nice and willing to lend a helping hand. I mean you kind of have to if you're going to do this, right?

- The people in the country are so welcoming and nice. Everywhere you go, you make friends with the locals. We're celebrities... they opened this internet cafe tonight just because we're in town.

There was an opening ceremony held for us, which was broadcasted on their national TV. Afterwards some locals stopped one of the volunteers and told us they saw her on television. It's cool being famous in a third world country.

- I learned the play the steel drums. Ok, just the first 8 notes of the American national anthem, but I felt cool. Just like the celebrity thing.

- My placement. I totally got hooked up with the best living situation in all of Guyana. Watch out Guyana MTV Cribs. Right when I got off the plane, the field director told me I had a fridge, internet access, and a veranda with a hammock. Score! So much for roughing it.

- The country is absolutely beautiful. Please take out your green crayon now. Draw a box on your computer screen here:







Now fill the box in with lots of green circles that may or may not look like palm trees. This is what Guyana looks like.

The Bad
- The heat. The sun is sometimes so unforgiving here, and you're forced to find solace in the shade and wait for a nice cool breeze. Luckily the breeze blows quite frequently, so you find yourself taking lots of shade breaks.

- The mosquitoes. Now please take out your red crayon. Draw two parallel lines here:




Now fill them in with red dots and that is my leg or my arm.

- The water at the first dorm we stayed at in Georgetown smelled like sulfur.

The Ugly
- I was told I'm going to be teaching at a community high school-- which is basically for delinquents, kids that didn't pass the high school entrance exam, or didn't take it. I heard it was challenging.

- The frequency of running water. The water doesn't always work here so oftentimes the toilet doesn't flush (in which case you just go to the well, fill up a bucket and pour it down), or the sink doesn't work (in which case you just take out your antibacterial gel) or the shower doesn't work (in which case you just go to the well, fill up a bucket and take a bucket bath). All things these things aren't so bad to deal with.

While we were staying at the dorm, myself and two other volunteers were taking a shower. Mid shampoo lather, the water stops running and the three of us are left soapy and bewildered. We decide the water isn't going to come back on, wrap ourselves up in towels, grab our brightly colored buckets and march our sudsy selves to fetch some well water.

The well is located right next to where all the 23 other male and female volunteers like to hang out because there is guaranteed a breeze. Now please take out your black crayon and draw three stick figures here:








Now add lots of suds in our hair, a towel around ourselves, water dripping from our stick figure arms and a bucket in tow. Now to the left, add 23 stick figures turning around at the same time to see us in this state. There is a real picture out there of this incident and I will show yall once it's downloaded somewhere.

I have many more stories, which I will have to tell you later. We're off to the local bar now. Don't forget to wipe all the crayon marks off your computer screen.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Quick Hello

I'm at an internet cafe in Bartica. Things are wonderful, the country is beautiful, and the people are so friendly. I have a bunch of great stories already, but I'll have to fill yall in later. I have about 5 seconds left. I promise to do a real post with the fab pics once I get the chance.

ps- It's hot here.