Hello. Goodbye.

Guyana, a place where formalities are expected but casual is the culture, where racism is prolific yet religious tolerance is standard, where the people move unhurriedly yet in a bus, market or crowd they aggressively hustle each other along. In the land of many waters, where rainy season is inevitable, but the country comes to a standstill at first sight of a drizzle, where some of the poorest people live yet exude such generosity often teaching me a thing or two about southern hospitality, where I’ve met some incredibly ungrateful greedy people, and some of the most altruistic, genuine caring ones, a place where I exchanged loud city sirens for wild dogs barking and frogs croaking, where the brilliant twinkling starlight replace the neon lights of the city, where the oranges and lemons are green and the flesh limes are sometimes yellow, this is the place I called home for a year. While oftentimes I felt like I was living in a dysfunctional home, it’s still where the heart is. And now after a year of injecting DEET into my bloodstream, it’s finally time to say good bye to warm Guyana and hello again to America.

Goodbye sights of beautifully thick trees lining the highway, goodbye orange, pink, purple shades of the sun setting, goodbye line of sea-foam green uniformed students spilling out of school and walking semi- single file along the highway, goodbye Music Man wheeling a cart of burned cds for sale down the street. Goodbye endless dancing on the streets (sometimes my life seems like a musical.) Goodbye full moon brightly lighting up the dirt path. Goodbye children clothed in merely underwear fishing in the sewer trenches, goodbye boys playing cricket barefoot, goodbye horse drawn carts, goodbye clean laundry drying underneath the harsh sunrays.

Goodbye smells of sweet honey roasted nuts simmering at the bus park, goodbye putrid urine on the streets and in the sewers intensified by the sun, goodbye sour rum distillery, goodbye delicious scent of garlic, onions and curry cooking from houses at 5pm stirring up my appetite.

Goodbye sounds of reggae music pumping everywhere, goodbye rumbling of children chatting, screaming, laughing in class, goodbye wild dogs barking, roosters crowing, frogs croaking, mosquitoes buzzing in my ear, goodbye “miss”, obnoxious sucking noises, obscene comments, and cheerful greetings. Goodbye little Michelle that lives downstairs crying, laughing, screaming, singing, and constantly knocking on my door asking for candy, goodbye pitter patter of rain in the distance hearing it about 3 seconds before it hits.

Goodbye sweet mangoes, pineapple, and passion fruit, goodbye amusing conversations with the school children, goodbye hammocks, goodbye market, goodbye mini-busses. It’s been a polarizing year with extreme highs and lows. It’s been quite an adventure. Goodbye Guyana (banana).

The Ministry Exam

Every year the Ministry of Education writes a series of tests for the 4 core subjects (Math, English, Science, and Social Studies) to be administered nation wide. Students from all schools at all levels are expected to pass this exam in order to move forward. Since I teach at a Community High, the answers I got might not be as developed as students from other schools. As one student wrote on the top of her paper, “I did not do good on this test.” Here’s the last batch of Q&A for your enjoyment.

Question: List three ways of practicing good health habits
Answer:
- 1/ Do not drink durty water from the ground. 2/ Do not trow grabge ont the ground 3/ Do not eat out of the grabge bin.
- The three ways of practicin good health habits is by don’t courts in frint of children, lorn them miners [learn them manners].
- by eeting eggs milk toger to have a healthty body.
- Don’t pick up dirty things from the grown.

Question: Explain one biological difference between the male and female adolescent.
Answer:
- Is because the male want to have sex but the female don’t.
- When meal started going through addesent they develop pubic heairs around the faces and female develop breast.
- Male has able to run and play games and female has able to cook and keep the house clean
- The difference between the male and femal is the femal is by changes there voice and male is staring getting brist.

Question: A) List the branches of Government., B) State the function of each branch.
Answer:
- A) You have the Prime monister, the monister of Finnist and the monister of Healt B) The Prime monister give out the low and rule. The monister of Finnist give his workers things to do. And the monister of Healt pay the hospetels to help us.
- A) The branches of the Government are water, light, postoffice and tellephone and tellegraph company B) water make sure everyone get water and the collect the bills Light you have get current to watch TV you can send letter around the country.

Question: List the types of electoral systems used in the Caribbean.
Answer:
- 1 freezer, 2 telellision, 3 Generater

Question: Explain why geography influences a person’s economic activites.
Answer:
- because geography is so hard you can get a better job
- Well I can’t Answer this one because I dont now what is the Answer.

Question: Explain the major difference between physical and human resources.
Answer:
- Physical resours are thong that made by mashine and human are the ones that made by hands.
- There are not the sam resources
- physical resources is defrent from human resource because you have to form [farm] to grow your crap.

Question: Name five physical resources:
Answer:
- feleing, site, tase, touse and hear.
- Skiping, running, writing, hoping, jumping

Question: Justify the position that human resources are the most valuable to a country.
Answer:
- That is so truth human resource because without human they would not be a country.

Question: Name the Natural Regions of Guyana
Answer:
- The Natural Regions of Guyana is Region four because Region four is the Best I live thir I would now.

Question: Explain two legitimate actions a citizen may take to support his/her Government.
Answer:
- two pErson I no will be my friends and my family
- The Government go to place to see if he can help them like the GPL [Guyana Power and Light] he can help them by pay them to keep working the power.

Just Now

The phrase “just now” in Guyana doesn’t imply the immediate past as it does in the States, but refers to an indeterminate amount of time in the future. It can mean anything from one minute, one hour, a week, a few months or never. It’s an ambiguous phrase which oftentimes leaves the receiver waiting and waiting until request is fulfilled.

Here’s an illustration of its versatility:

When it means in a minute… or maybe five….
Student #1: Miss, when you sharin’ out test papers?
Me: Just now. Go sit down.
Student #2: Miss, ya sharin’ out test papers?
Student #1: Miss said, “Just now go sit down.”
Student #3: MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSS, you sharin’ out test papers? How many marks I get?
Student #1: You don’t hear good? Miss said, “Sit down.”

When it means an hour or two….
Me: Sir, we have a staff meeting this afternoon (during school hours). What do you want to do with the children?
Headmaster: Just now I gonna decide Miss.

When it means in a few weeks…
Student: Miss, you leaving (the country) just now?
Me: Yup. July coming.
Student: Alright Miss. I gonna come by you just now and you gonna share your sweetie and chico with me.

When it means never…
Me: My mom sent me a package on May 5th. It’s July already, when can I expect it?
Postal Worker: Just now. Probably got sent to Africa you know.

Un-Fare

The mini-busses that speed around town don’t always follow the same exact route. Usually they drive accommodating the passenger’s drop-off locations. Sometimes they won’t know which route to take and yell out, “Anybody want [insert destination here]?” The passengers will holler back their stop. Other times, they will have enough foresight and interrogate passengers before they board the bus. Usually, though, this tactic is reserved to persuade someone to choose their bus.

One afternoon, a conductor approached me and I replied in my distinct American accent where my destination was. “Yeah, yeah,” he acknowledged, grabbed my shoulder and dragged me to his vehicle. As we approached my destination the conductor informed me of my arrival and I handed him my fare, $100, expecting $40 in change as usual. The conductor handed me $20, reached for another $20, then hesitated and said, “It’s $80. Fare raise up this mornin.” I contested his unfair action and informed him that I took a bus this morning and it was $60. He didn’t budge and insisted it was $80, opened the door and shuffled me out as aggressively as he had pushed me on.

I stood on the side of the road feeling inequitably treated, knowingly taken advantage of, and mistaken for an affluent vacationer. I wanted to dispute it but couldn’t think of anything to say to resolve the situation. So instead, I brattishly snapped, “I live here!” and slammed the door. I'm quite proud to say that both my intelligence and maturity level have grown since living in Guyana.

The lesson I learned? Always carry exact fare, even if that means stopping for half-melted ice cream to make correct change. Ice cream makes everything better.

A Testing Exam

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that the school year is coming to an end. My hope is that over the course of this year, I’ve somehow managed to teach my students something useful and perhaps a bit of Social Studies along the way.

Last week they were given their final examinations covering the year’s material. Their performance determines whether they move forward to the next grade. So, I designed the test to include 80% multiple choice and true/false, and only 20% short answer where they had to actually formulate a response. Luckily I didn’t write my exam like one of the math tests where one question comprised of parts a, b, and c, and instead of answering all three sections, a student simply circled A.

These, however, were the answers that my students provided for me…

Name:_______________________________
Student’s Response: [First Name] Sexy Love

Directions: True or False (30 marks). Please indicate whether each statement is true or false by circling the correct answer.
Student circled true in the directions.


Question: Why is getting an education important for finding work?
Student's Response:
- because when you go on interviews you can answer all the quitation
- you must take your education because it is important to life because if you don’t have education you will learn bad you will become a drugy smokey or do rong things that will put you in trouble
- went you get a education you can get a good jod and not a worst jod that why education is important
- Because if any ask you a questions you can be able to answer it, and you might have to sign your name so that why its important to get you education.
- education is important for Finding word because The people has to test you to see iF you are goog For the jod.
- because if we don’t have Eauducation The country will go down.
- uou need a joB to halp our son.
- true

Question: Describe the phenomenon of “Brain Drain”
Student's Response:
- Brain Drain is when remembering or review what you lurned in class
- Brain Drain is like you forgot something next min you rember
- The two word are describe spelling but same sound.
- Drain Drain is when you are doin bisnis with another country
- Brain Drain is when someone sader with Brain pramel [problem].
- because the are alike.
- Do not no.
- Brain Drain is when you hit your head.
- Brain Drain is the part of your head that drains the blood.
- Brain Drain is when your Bran is blown
- A Phenomenon of “Brain Drain” is May 26 2007
- is when people money is go in down they drain

Question: Name a developing country.
Student's Response:
- The two developing country are Guyana and USA.
- A developing country is Nourkyark [New York].
- the Name of this country is Guyana.
- Ammrika
- The USNice Cate [United States]
- A developing country is bizle [Brazil].
- true

Question: What does the Legislative branch of the government do?
Student's Response:
- Work on time
- The Legislative make shower the rules is carred out and ponish all does how break them.
- The government of branch seit the roos [rules] for the country.
- the legislative brach of the governmet follow the precident orders
- May law a runes [Make laws and rules].
- It does a Lot of thing Like light in the night.
- It con trow [control] the world.

Insults Come Complimentary

Praise and compliments aren’t given out freely here as they are in the States. This coupled with the fact that the Guyanese speak with candor and a bit of abrasiveness often makes me wonder if this is their way of doling out compliments. Usually flattery comes coupled with an insult… or their insults might include a compliment. I’m not quite sure which it is. One thing’s for certain: it’s given out quite freely, but you always seem to be paying for it.

Here are a few examples to illustrate my point…

At the doctor’s office

Me: Hi, good morning. You look very nice today.
Doctor: Hello. And you look… the same.
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At school

Student: Miss, when I have a wife one day, I don’t want her to be more fat than you.

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Walking on the street

Security Guard: Hey Chinee girl. I want to make babies and fried rice with you.

Life Lessons

People often say there is no better way to learn than to teach someone else. My students may have gone out of their way to ensure I’m learning as much as they are. They have definitely been trying to instill in me proper values, gumption, and common sense. Here’s how they’ve made me better understand how the world works:


On Religion…

Losing my religion

Student: Miss, what church you go to?
Me: I don’t go to church here.
Student: Why not Miss? You don’t believe in God? You want to burn in hell?
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On Career Choices…

Teachers are super heroes

Student: Miss when you go back to America are you going to continue teaching?
Me: I don’t know. I didn’t teach before I came here.
Student: So you were just an ordinary person?


False advertising

Student: What did you used to do before you came to Guyana?
Me: I worked in advertising.
Student: What? For truth? So you know about cameras? And you know they take a fan and fake the breeze? It ain’t real ya know.
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On Gambling…

Going for Broke

Me: Should gambling be legal in Guyana?
Student #1: No Miss, gambling bad!
Me (playing devil’s advocate): Well what if I said that the government could make money off of it and they would spend it to build new roads and provide medicine for the sick. Then would that be ok?
Student #1: No Miss, gambling makes you sell off your wife!
Student #2: And it causes killings!
Student #3: It makes you thief your mother’s fish money!
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On Linguistics …

Coming in Loud and Clear

Student: Miss you can’t understand us when we talk.
Me: Well not when I first came, but now I can.
Student: No Miss, we Guyanese usually talk raw, but when we talk to you we talk more slow cuz you American.

Best...Ever

Guyana boasts some of the most notable ecological attractions on this planet. I recently made a trip out to Kaietuer Falls to witness some of the wonders for myself. Here’s what you can expect at this scenic National Park: a bunch of superlatives that could easily make its way into my Reading lesson …

(Can’t take any of the photo credits. My pictures don’t quite do it justice.)

Tallest waterfall ever. It measures 741 feet and is the world highest single drop fall. To put it into perspective it’s about 129 Nate Robinsons stacked on top of each other. It’s quite breathtaking to witness the rush of glistening red wine water flood over the edge and quite soothing to hear the steady beat of the cascading water.

Oldest rocks ever. Some of the world’s oldest exposed rocks are found here.

Smallest frog ever. The golden frog is the size of your pinky and is the world’s tiniest. It spends its entire life living in this plant. But I guess if you’re that small you really don’t want to travel that far. Makes sense.

Least reliable form of transportation ever. Both our flights in and out were canceled due to rain. Luckily I’ve been living in Guyana and no longer have an urgent sense of time.


Most lethal snake ever….or at least that’s how I felt when I was 6 inches away from it

Bluest butterflies ever. Well I’m not sure that they're actually the bluest, but they’re pretty blue and strikingly radiant against a backdrop of neutral browns and greens.



Brightest rainbows ever. Again this one is just an opinion, but these little gems rarely get observed by the typical city dweller.

Market-Able

Filling a bag of groceries in Guyana isn’t like loading a cart full of goodies at Whole Foods. Similar to shopping in Manhattan, you purchase only what you can carry. And, no, you don’t have the option to pay for delivery to your front door. There are a limited number of grocery stores in town, but they tend to overcharge for most items, so I’ve learned to do most of my shopping at the market. The market can be wonderful fun. It’s a colorful scene filled with ripe tropical fruits and rich green vegetables displayed on wooden stands over a carpet of sewage water and litter. The experience isn’t quite a leisurely stroll through a farmer’s market. Every vendor regardless of their gender shouts, “Hey baby, what you shopping for?” If you stop and chat for a bit, you find that sometimes they can be very friendly and generous. Other times, they just want to continue marketing.

Each trip can be a grab bag. Here are a few of my experiences fresh off the market so anyone who might want to check out the market will be better able to.

- Sometimes you feel like a celebrity. “Look, it’s Bruce Lee’s daughter.”
- Sometimes you feel like you’re blessed with good genes when walking with other volunteers. “Hey! White and Chinee make beautiful babies!”
- Sometimes you feel a sense of security after being grabbed by a strange man. “Girl you walking too close to the bus.”
- Sometimes you feel like you’re in Baskin Robbins “You never eat this before? Here taste it”

- Sometimes you feel like you belong, “You Guyanese? You sound like Guyanese”
- Sometimes you don’t. (me) “I just got tomatoes at that stand for $200.” (Guyanese shopper) “No girl. She only charged me $140.”

- Sometimes you feel like they think you’re a sucker. (me) “How much for two?” (vendor quickly packs 4 in a bag) “This, only $200.”
- Sometimes you are. (vendor) “Look. I saved all the good mangoes for you.” (me) “But, some are all bruised up.” (vendor) “Mangoes scarce now. Ya want it?” (me) “(sigh) Fine.”

Photo Dump

It’s been a while since I’ve just posted pictures, so here's a random collection for your viewing pleasure.

Most people want to be an “after,” unless you’re a worn volunteer tote that’s endured a year of sun, sweat and abuse. I still carry around the smelly used one. This Friday my roommate forced me to trash my favorite pair of flip flops because it had a hole in the bottom. I may have possibly sunk to a new low.

Don’t pee in the shower. It's not pleasant for the next person.

A lesson on how to take notes when you don’t have a desk.

One of my favorite primary school students, Shaqueille. He’s a bit shy, but so tiny you could roll him up and put him in your pocket.

The skyline over the Caribbean Sea.

Stalling on a Shitty Situation

We’re in the last term of the year, and I was excited to see my students again after an extended Easter break. The first day back, I walked onto the compound to have students warmly greet me, ask how I spent my holiday and why my legs were so ugly, with a blanket of bug bites. “Miss, ya know about spray?” It’s good to be back. In the afternoon, I approached the Headmaster and inquired about the broken septic tanks that caused the school to close a bit earlier. “I went away for break, Miss, and forgot about it and nobody came to fix them.” Ok, well that makes sense: if you leave and don’t call anyone, no one would come.

The conditions have now escalated to the point that the students and faculty, including a pregnant teacher, can’t use the bathroom. The stench was also beginning to get unbearable. This isn’t the only problem with the school’s facilities. The stairs were so weak that a student had stepped a bit too hard and pieces of concrete debris fell on a female student’s head.

Week 1
On Tuesday, the Senior Master called an impromptu assembly after school. The Senior Master tells the students if they want change, they can take a stand by not coming to school. Then he declares that none of the teachers will teach until the problem is rectified.

I walked home with a few students and ask them if they plan on attending school tomorrow. Most of them said yes because they didn’t understand the concept of going on strike. Funny because we discussed trade unions and strikes last term. I’m such a great teacher.

Not much happened the rest of the week. Every time someone needed to use the facilities, they were sent home.

Week 2
The parents finally mobilized on Wednesday and bolted down every single door of the school with two by fours, then padlocked the front gate. About a dozen or so concerned parents stood out under the unrelenting sun, sheltering themselves beneath parasols, and holding up protest signs each time a vehicle passed. A few entrepreneurial students came around and sold icicles (flavored ice) to them. Actually they were my little genius students who did that. They don’t understand strikes, but they know how to make an extra buck. Good work. Since the teachers were evicted from the compound by the parents, they had no choice but to gather around the shop across the street, staring at and discussing the situation. The Teacher’s Union had instructed them to remain sitting across the street each day until further notice.

One of the parents called the media, which came hours later to expose the deplorable conditions: derelict wooden steps, piles of unburned garbage, numerous termite nests, rusty water tanks, lack of fencing (where the children just run out through the back instead of going to class), damaged and smashed toilets, and of course the ruptured leaking septic tanks. The piece was picked up by the other news stations (and by “stations” I mean the other one).

The Ministry of Education finally takes notice and says everything will be fixed over the weekend.

Week 3
During rainy season, everything gets delayed. We go to school on Monday to see the work unfinished and the gates still padlocked. The Ministry spends the rest of the week slowly and shoddily rebuilding a few of the critical items on the demand list. They also want to cut costs by trying to get prisoners to clean the school.

Week 4
School can finally resume! 5th Formers are supposed to take the CXCs during the month of May. This is probably the most important exam of their Secondary School career, a good score leading to the opportunity of a more promising future. Our 5th formers haven’t had the past month to prepare due to the school’s conditions and are planning on taking the exams starting this week. Since our school is too small to house all the students while the 5th formers are given sufficient space to test, many of them are asked to go home. We walk in on Monday to inquire about the schedule.

Me: Sir, I hear that there is a lot of testing going on in May and June. How will this affect my timetable?
Senior Master: Yes, well Miss is working on a Calendar of Events. There will be many days when you cannot teach.
Me: Can I see the calendar? When will it be done?
Senior Master: When she has finished writing it.

Right. Why did I even bother asking such a silly question.

On a side note, someone please give me a new job. I come back in August and I’ll work anywhere where the toilets are in working order.

Adaptation

There are four stages that people experience when adjusting to a new culture. Each stage is marked by a different set of emotions and reactions to a given situation. Near the beginning of our stay in Guyana, my roommate and I would proclaim to each other in bouts of frustration, “I’m in Stage 2 right now!” But now long gone are the days when we characterize ourselves in terms of the culture curve. That was until one afternoon we were standing on the side of the road, and a man crossed over waving at us. His face looked somewhat familiar, but I didn’t know who he was. Without hesitation, I pleasantly acknowledged his greeting by responding in typical Guyanese fashion “All right, all right,” a gesture that might be received as dismissive in the States. My roommate began to giggle and I curiously looked at her, completely unaware of anything peculiar. She then turned to me and exclaimed, “Yvonne! You’re in Stage 4.” I had finally made it. I reflected back on all the events that led me to this point and decided to illustrate each stage using a bathroom theme as a tribute to the non-functioning ones at our school.

Stage 1: Initial Euphoria (The Honeymoon Phase)- everything is wonderful, new and exciting
- Upon arriving to the country, we stayed at dorms with only occasional running water. Learning to flush a toilet by fetching a bucket of water made me feel self sufficient. Look, I’m roughing it now!

Stage 2: Irritation and Hostility (Culture Shock)- differences between the two cultures are abundant and troubling
- After a week of living in Guyana, I flushed a toilet and a frog jumped out at me. I shrieked in terror and bolted out of the bathroom. Why would anyone want to make a home in the toilet?

- A few months later, I encountered my first concrete outhouse. Since I was never taught how to pee on a flat floor, I didn’t do so well. It was the first time I left an outhouse not feeling relieved.

Stage 3: Gradual Adjustment- adjusting begins but may not come naturally, ability to better interpret differences
- When using the bathroom at school, I always have to tell a teacher to keep a watch out for me since the stalls are too tiny to close. No, my fat ass doesn’t fit. As I was walking to the stall, I saw a flattened dead rat. I lightly gasped, but then just stepped right over it.

- It was dark and I was in the middle of a dirt parking lot with no toilet nearby. My best bet at this point was to hide behind a tree. I found the shrubbiest tree and took shelter behind it. I was content with the hidden spot I found until two bright headlights switched on and I froze, completely helpless to do anything.

Stage 4: Adaptation and Bi-Culturalism- cultural appropriate behavior comes naturally
- Driving through the savannah means no trees to duck behind when you need to go. We pulled over and I found a spot near some tall-ish grass. Luckily the roads were empty and everyone in our vehicle gave me privacy. But as I stood to pull up my pants, a large tourist truck drove by right next to me. Good thing I’ll never see them again and at least this isn’t the States where I would get arrested for public urination.

- We were passing through Brazil when we came upon a rest stop. I jumped up to use the bathroom when another volunteer warned me that the stalls didn’t have doors on them. I shrugged, grabbed my toilet paper and took off. I’ve flashed enough people this past year, a few more wouldn’t harm.

A Running Problem

One of my favorite things to do in Guyana is to go running… and no, I don’t mean running after ice cream trucks or delinquent school children. I gave that up for lent. Going for a jog is my opportunity to escape for some peace and solitude and also enjoy one of the most scenic paths of nature. Of course I am not always alone in my run. For instance, the same ugly dogs attack me every time I pass a particular house, or a man with a camera blatantly films me even after I ask him not to, or the Village Crazy approaches me brushing the dirt(y sweat) off my shoulders with his fingers.

One afternoon I was jogging in the usual sand lot when I came upon a student who used to attend my school that was also searching for tranquility. At first she sat quietly breathing in the silence, but on my second lap she decided to take me up on my offer and join the run. I asked her what she was doing here alone, and she responded saying she had problems to escape from. We jogged at a slow pace for about 300 meters when she stopped to put her shoes back on and started walking. Normally I would have continued my run in order to beat the rapidly setting sun, but I sensed there was something deeply troubling her, so I decided to walk alongside the 16-year-old girl.

Me: So, your problems you mentioned… would you like to talk about them?
Student: Well Miss, I’m the only girl in my family and it’s a big problem.
Me: Yeah? How so?
Student: Well I’m surrounded by boys and they take advantage of me. It started when I was 12 and a teacher told me to go over to his house for lessons. I went over for help and he… you know… felt me up. I was too frightened to tell anyone. Then a couple years later my cousin did it me. And my neighbor did it too. I didn’t want to tell anyone, but finally told his wife. She was the only one that believed me. She said it sounded like something her husband would do.…….I had a sister you know. She died when she was 9 months old and sometimes I wish it could have been me. What’s wrong with me that people keep doing this to me?

As she continued to describe even more occurrences, my heart sank a little more, and my anger at the incidences compounded. I knew I couldn’t advise her to go to the police since these issues are too widespread here and no proper actions would be taken. For example, there’s an older staff member at our school who has often been linked to various Primary and Secondary female students. He happened to be caught in one of the incidences and thrown behind bars for less than a week, only to return to the school and continue his pedophiliac ways.

My reaction at the moment was to empower her to not stand for anymore sleazy disgusting men, and urge her to tell someone else she could trust. I’m not sure if my words made an impact, and that thought haunted me for the next few days. I didn’t know where this girl lived and I didn’t know whether I would see her again. In the classroom, as difficult as it is to get through to the children, I know I’m at least doing something. This was the first time I felt completely powerless to help a student in need. The only thing I could think of was to write about it.

Rodeo Drive

Blogger's Note: Many apologies for the extreme delay in posts. After my South American travels and a bit of a hectic homecoming week, I didn’t get a chance to write a proper entry. Anyway, this post is quite lengthy so if you want, you can just skip all the words and look at the pretty pictures. Also, for anyone that cares, the septic tanks at school are still broken. If I come home with some a horrible disease, we’ll all know why. (Just kidding Mom, I already had my vaccinations.)
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I took the opportunity over Easter break to travel a bit since there were parts of Guyana and South America I still hadn’t seen. The plan was to head to a quiet border town called Lethem for the Rupununi Rodeo, then over to Brazil and up to Venezuela.

Being a volunteer (and/or Asian) means two things when traveling: 1) carry a loaf of bread with you so you don’t have to actually purchase meals, and 2) use the cheapest form of transportation possible. In this case, it meant we had to travel by the retiring beaten busses that the neighboring Brazilians didn’t want anymore.

We had been warned by many about the lengthy uncomfortable ride with no air conditioning or toilets. The actual travel time is 12 hours, but can often stretch to 22 grueling hours depending on if you travel over the dirt roads during rainy or dry season. We were packed in claustrophobia-inducing seats with leg room that made flying coach feel like first class. Good thing I’m short, which means shorter legs and about an inch more space to breathe. I was assigned a window seat under the leaky roof, which splattered icy rain drops on me wearing off the drowsiness effect of my Dramamine. Luckily we had just ended the paved road portion of our ride and were entering the rocky dirt road. The bumpiness agitated my nausea even more, so I popped another Dramamine and soon enough fell asleep.

The best of part of the intermittent sleep was that every time I awoke, I felt like I had entered an entirely different country. First I was surrounded by tall thick canopy of trees in the rainforest, then shorter sparsely placed shrubs, then a peacefully flat savannah with a backdrop of rolling green hills, and finally the tall blue mountains.


(l) The red dirt road through the forest
(r) Blue skies and clear savannah


Halfway upon reaching our destination, we needed to cross the Essequibo River. The driver scantily woke up the sleeping passengers and forced everyone off the bus. In order for the bus to cross the river, it had to back itself onto a ferry, or what looked more like a small wooden raft. The driver explained to us naïve Americans that the bus has previously overturned in this process and for safety purposes asked us to stand by and watch.

I was woken up by the oppressive stale air when we encountered our next delay. A truck had fallen into the ditch and our bus driver had stopped to assist in the dilemma. As I got off the bus for some air, I had my own dilemma of needing to use facilities in the middle of the open savannah. Unfortunately I was surrounded by multiple other vehicles and men who were aiding with the overturned truck. I decided to save the chagrin for another day (which little to my knowledge at the time would have probably been one of the lesser humiliating moments throughout the trip), and eagerly awaited our arrival in Lethem.

We finally pulled into the small friendly town after 18 hours of magic, walked 25 minutes carrying our heavy baggage and happily greeted the Lethem volunteers we hadn’t seen since Christmas break.


(l) Yeah, this is safe.
(r) And apparently so is this.

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Since Lethem sits on the border between Guyana and Brazil, it’s influenced by Brazilian culture, music, and food. Reggae was left behind at the coast as we entered an atmosphere surrounded by Forro (pronounced “foe-haw”) music dominated by Brazilian artist Pepe Moreno. Sour, a peppery mango condiment, was replaced by starchy tasteless farine. Aromatic grilled meat on skewers filled the air and any personal claims I had of being a moderate vegetarian would immediately be dispelled upon entering the Rodeo grounds.

Once we made it to Rodeo, a twinge of Texas nostalgia overcame me with country music echoing in the background and Brazilian cowboys with big belt buckles riding barefoot in stirrups. Cowboy hats decorated many heads that passed by. There were plenty of drinks to go around, especially the dangerously delicious and highly intoxicating caprihinas. By nightfall, the dark sky was dusted with the brightest twinkling lights I had ever seen and I was surrounded by drunken white people- yup, I’m definitely back at home. The only thing missing was funnel cake and overusing the word “y’all”.

Rodeo continued for two days, with events such as bull riding, catching a greasy pig, and tug of war (dumb foreigners and over-dressed coastlanders vs. locals and non-English speaking Brazilians). I’m pretty sure the locals always win.


(l) Can't even get away from the advertising in Lethem.
(r) He lasted less than 10 seconds. Not bad for an untrained cowboy.

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After a long weekend of indulging in tasty meat on sticks and delicious hot dogs that would put Gray’s Papaya to shame, I swore off meat until I was tempted again in Venezuela. It was now time to leave the red dirt roads behind, pack up our hammocks and cross the river to Brazil. Since the blog is titled Adventures in Guyana, I’ll give brief highlights of the two countries.

Boa Vista, Brazil:
- Scooped and topped our own ice-cream and purchased it by the kilo. Genius! I’m surprised no one in New York has come up with this concept yet.
- Best greasy pressed sandwiches ever. (Seriously, how can Brazilians be so thin?)
- Bathrooms don’t have doors on them.
- Still can’t speak Portuguese.

Santa Elena, Venezuela:
- Toured through Gran Sabana where they filmed Jurassic Park.
- Hiked through the forest, swam in the waterfalls, whitewater rafted and body rafted down the river. Minimal scars and bruises acquired.
- Eaten alive by black flies making the mosquitoes in Soesdyke look like friendly pests.
- Still can’t speak Spanish.


(l) A view from the top of a waterfall
(r) Walking to take a dip in another waterfall

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After falling in love all over again with nature, it was time to head back. In totality, the bus rides from Venezuela to Brazil and through Guyana took over 30 hours. After traveling for two full days, each bus increasingly less tolerable and each road bumpier, we finally made it back home. I was exhausted, had only $10 dollars left in my pocket to sustain me for the next week and a half, but gained a profound piece of insight from the trip: when traveling long distances with no toilets or privacy, always remember to wear a skirt.

Crappy Conditions

Blogger's Note: I will not be able to access the internet next week, so there won't be any posts until the weekend after Easter Sunday.
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Thursday 3/22
I was supposed to give my Form 2B class their end of term exam in the afternoon. I was waiting for the students to be dismissed for lunch, but instead they were dismissed from school. After inquiring about the abrupt alteration in the schedule, I found out that the school’s septic tank was broken and the children were playing in the dirty water. This being a health hazard, the school was to close by order of the Ministry until the tanks were fixed.

Thanks for letting me know so I could plan accordingly. Ummm…and did I hug any students today?

Friday 3/23
I walked into school not expecting the septic tanks to have been fixed, but hoping for the best. They weren’t fixed. I asked if school was to be dismissed, and the Headmaster hadn’t given any direction, so things remained stagnant and a bit chaotic. I took this opportunity and quickly grabbed my Form 2B students, even though I wasn’t timetabled to teach them, and administered the exam in the middle of the confusion. The Headmaster decides to call another half day since the tanks were still broken.

Exposing the students for only half a day to the contaminated water is deemed safe, but not a full day. Got it.

Monday 3/26
It’s the last week of school before Easter break. The tanks were still broken and it had rained heavily all night and morning and spread the dirty water through parts of the compound. The flies that usually swarm around the classrooms have now tripled. At 10am, the teachers were fed up with the situation and asked the Headmaster to call off school again. He doesn’t. At 11am they mobilize, and at 11:30 most of the teachers walk out. Seeing that the teachers had left, I approached the Headmaster to ask him if I should dismiss the students.

Me: Sir, all the teachers are gone. Would you like me to dismiss Form 2?
HM: No Miss, today is not a half day. You can’t dismiss the children.
Me: But Sir, they don’t have any teachers to teach them. What do you want them to do?
HM: I cannot give you a decision as yet. Tell them to come back after lunch and we’ll see what happens.
Me: But Sir, they’re just going to sit here with nothing to do.
HM: Miss. Please give me a minute to make a decision.

Another teacher then goes into the back and tells all the children to leave. The rest of us follow suit.

Decision makers may not be the ones making the decisions.

Tuesday 3/27
It’s announced in the morning that today will be the last day of school since Guyana is hosting the Cricket World Cup. Three days of education is lost and may or may not be compensated for in July. The Headmaster has decided not to come to school. The second in charge is not here either. I approach the third down the line to ask him if the tanks will be fixed and if it’s safe to keep the kids in school. He doesn’t know the answer and phones the Ministry to inquire. The Ministry informs him that the Headmaster was supposed to evacuate the students until the problem was fixed, but the message never got to the children. The students slowly filter out around 10am, and after they have all left, the teachers leave at 11:30.

Welcome to Soesdyke Community High. Please keep your shoes on as you enter the compound.

Not Over Cricket

According to what people have been telling me, The Cricket World Cup is the third most watched sport around the world after the Olympics and Soccer World Cup. The West Indies are hosting the games this year, and Guyana has built a beautiful stadium and hotel solely for this purpose. The World Cup has contributed to many changes in Guyana, so I’ve made a list of the top ten things that Cricket has changed for me:

10. I realized that Cricket is not the same game as Croquet.

9. Now whenever I walk down the street with other volunteers, locals keep shouting, “Hey tourist! You like Cricket?”

8. All the local establishments we frequent are now filled with more white people than ever. It feels so weird.

7. I now have three extra days of vacation since the country has shut down its schools nation-wide, just for the games occurring near the capital.

6. I finally have a place to throw my trash now that the government has installed trash cans on most street corners so tourists don’t contribute to the excessive littering.

5. Shop owners have become a bit more customer service oriented because they think we’re tourists.

4. My mini-bus rides now take 10 minutes longer due to the traffic and construction around the cricket stadium. The roads were still being paved the day before the game started.

3. Paying for the cheapest tickets on the field has left myself and other white volunteers with painful red sunburns. My Asian glow has now extended to when I’m not drinking as well.

2. After watching the England vs. Ireland game, I realized that England’s flag is not the same as Great Britain’s flag. (Seriously? They let people like me teach?)

1. I’ve finally found a game that lasts longer than baseball: 50 overs each team can last a lifetime.

Almost a New Term-inology

It’s nearing the end of the term, which means it’s time for tests again. If these tests were scored based on creative or amusing definitions and answers, my students would definitely have gotten higher marks. Here are a few answers that make grading my humongous stack of 200 tests, 200 notebooks, and 50 reports a more enjoyable task.

Question: What does the term “mores” mean?
Student’s Answer: When you have more than one
Student’s Answer: You are working somewhere you don’t have enogh money you ask for more
Student’s Answer: A moran is good behaviour

Question: Give an example of a norm.
Student’s Answer: do not speak if you are spooking to
Student’s Answer: I put Mashramani for folkway
Student’s Answer: porfect condock

Question: What is one way trade unions can protest for change?
Student’s Answer: Buy running away
Student’s Answer: Trade union can protest by writing on a cardboard and go on the road march
Student’s Answer: When you is in Guyana and Guyana water is not pure and Englion water is pure you go to Englion

Question: Why do workers join trade unions?
Student’s Answer: because they want food and clowdin (clothing)
Student’s Answer: because the work very hard for libbet (little bit) money
Student’s Answer: Workers join trade unions is to get money to that they can eat.
Student’s Answer: becouse they not Eduction
Student’s Answer: workers join trade unions because the want the goods to trade for something else or because when the did not have something the could trade it for a nother.

Question: When writing an essay, what is the purpose of paragraphs?
Student’s Answer: a purpose of a essay is dat when you dowet (do it) you get marks
Student’s Answer: The purpose of paragraphs is make sure you don’t get mix up with the other won and it help you keep a distance
Student’s Answer: Paragraph is a relgus holiday

Question: Name three household pests. (Taken from the Home Economics test)
Student’s Answer: flies, roaches and children

The Anatomy of a Mini-bus

I remember trying to explain the concept of a mini-bus to one of my friends, and realized that if someone had never ridden one before then they wouldn’t be able to understand what I was saying. This post is inspired from that conversation. I’ve complied tips on optimizing mini-bus experiences should anyone ever need to ride one.

Music Matters
Depending on what kind of music the mini-bus plays, it will dictate the type of ride passengers experience.

- Hard Core Reggae Music: If this type of music is blasting when it picks up people on the road, it will be guaranteed that a few men will be doing the Passa-Passa dance move in their seats. The drivers are usually more aggressive and tend to speed, swerve, and tailgate.
- Top 3 Hits: This is similar to the Top 40 Hits in the US, but people here play the same 3 songs over and over. (Currently one of them is Beyonce’s “Irreplaceable”) Everyone in this bus will think they are trying out for Guyana Idol and belt out tunes at the top of their lungs. Drivers are mildly aggressive.
- Jesus Music: If a bus plays gospel music, it will strictly adhere to all traffic laws. It will not pass any cars on the road, not even the heavy sluggish tractors or horse-drawn carts. This bus is not recommended to those who are in a hurry or late for an appointment. The best thing to do is wait for a Hard Core bus that may pass by 10 minutes later. It will still arrive before the Jesus busses.

Seating Situations
Where a person is seated on the bus is also crucial in the traveling experience. There are no isles or walk-ways on these busses in order to cram as many people as possible. Those getting short drops are not recommended to sit in the back corners of the bus or else everyone is forced to exit, although this shuffling is extremely common and not seen as a hassle.

Bus Etiquette
There is a certain sense of camaraderie when riding the busses. Most people are willing to sacrifice the comfort of a regular seat and be awkwardly crammed in order to accommodate a handful of extra (illegal) passengers so everyone may get a ride. The bus drivers will also make multiple stops, per the passengers’ request, and the conductor will dash across the road to run the passenger’s errands. However, this kindness disappears when there is a crowd waiting for a bus. “Love thy neighbor” becomes “shove thy neighbor.” All bets are off and the pushing and stampeding commences in order to secure a seat.

Flying High

Blogger’s Note: Nobody celebrates St. Patrick’s Day in Guyana except for silly Americans volunteers with no Irish heritage, but are just looking for an excuse to have fun. I’m one those people. Point being my time at the internet today is very limited so there will only be one post. Sorry!
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There are lots of moments when I say to myself, “Only in Guyana could this happen.” Most of the time it’s something like seeing a family of four ride a bicycle or having someone at the shop sit around and not assist you even when you ask. This past Sunday I had a completely impromptu experience that wouldn’t have happened if I was still back in the States.

I was planning on a fun day of doing laundry and cleaning the house. In the middle of my chores, I was interrupted by a phone call spontaneously inviting me to fly to a tiny resort off of the Essequibo River. I immediately jumped at the opportunity and scrambled as quickly as possible for the last-minute affair. Two other volunteers and I met the pilot and a friend at the tiny airport near town. The five of us boarded a 5 seater plane and flew 20 minutes across part of the country.

Our altitude was low enough so that I could see the colorful rooftops, endless green forests, and speedboats floating along the coast. When we arrived, I felt like I was in a completely different world. The plane landed on a 100 foot-long runway and parked on a tiny concrete square black. We were basically in the middle of the bush. A car was waiting for us and drove about 5 minutes through a tiny dirt road, and we ended up at Lake Mainstay Resort.

The sand was white, the water was red (as are all the creeks in Guyana), and the food and drinks kept coming. As we waded in the warm lake, I looked up at the sky cherishing the moment and relishing in the fact I wasn’t scrubbing my toilet.

On the way back from an amazing afternoon, I was granted the co-pilot seat and sat in cockpit staring down at complicated buttons, levers, and meters. I began asking the pilot a few questions about flying and he ran through a short list of basics. Then, to my surprise, he let go of the controls and told me to fly us home. I tightly gripped the wheel, used the coastline as a guide, and flew a small plane across Guyana. It was one of the most amazing things I had ever done. And for the remainder of the day, I was on cloud nine and a complete high. (pun intended.)

Playing Phagwah

Last Sunday was Phagwah, a Hindu holiday that is observed after the full moon in March. When I asked students and teachers what the significance of the holiday was, everyone replied with the exact same uncertainty, “Me don’t know, but we get a day off from school. Don’t come on Monday, right?”

On Friday afternoon, all classes were put to a halt and students gathered for an assembly to officially announce that school was closed on Monday.

To celebrate Phagwah, people splash water all over you, sprinkle powder over your head, and rub paint on your face and body. Before the assembly even started, my kids came up from behind with a handful of glitter and smeared it all over my face. Subsequently, a glitter fight ensued. I asked them if glitter was part of the celebrations, to which they replied, “No Miss, but this was all the shop in the backroad had.” Then for the next half hour, students lined up to inform me that I had glitter on my face.

After school was over, the child in everyone was unleashed. Teachers and students alike took water bottles and showered it on anyone within a 5 feet radius. White and colored powder coated the air, and people stampeded out the doors shrieking in protest to remain clean. One teacher struggled to open a bag of paint powder and as she distributed the ammunition announced, “This plastic is too hard to open and people are getting away. Hurry run after them.” It was quite a playful and festive celebration, and for one afternoon everyone felt like a kid again.

Writing a Wrong

After teaching the same students for 7 months, I thought I would be accustomed to many of the misspellings and grammatical errors that they make. Of course they somehow always manage to find a way to surprise or amuse me. Here a few excerpts taken from essays I recently asked them to write.

Inviting someone to an event: There is a lot more to enjoy This is not all Just come and you will enjoy it It will be all breezy and free.

Enticing someone to try Guyanese cuisine: Come tace the delishess food.

The title line of a student’s essay: My S.A.

The Complete Guide to Carnival in Trinidad

Blogger's Note: This one's a novel, so I'm just doing one post today. Give your eyes a break when you're done. You'll need it. (Pictures are taking forever to load and I'm running out of time here, so they're limited in this post. Sorry.)
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Last week I escaped to the charming Caribbean island of Trinidad to celebrate Carnival with the world. Situated only 45 minutes from Guyana, right off the coast of Venezuela and just southwest of Barbados, Trinidad is impressively disparate. While still deeply infused with the Caribbean culture, the people maintain a warm hospitality and laid back attitude in life. The music, however, shifts from coarser Reggae to upbeat Soca and lively Calypso. The infrastructure is much more developed and the amenities more abundant.

Carnival was a volunteer-teacher-in-a-third-world-country-with-hyperactive-students’s dream. Trinidad transformed from a sedated island to a furiously festive state, having prepared itself two months in advance for the affair. I’ve compiled a few short guides to Carnival based on various interests. No matter which guide you find most appealing, experiencing Carnival comes highly recommended. But be warned: this celebration is not for the weak.


A Party Lover’s Guide
A note to my traditional, slightly conservative Asian father: Dad, the following has been written for journalism purposes. Your daughter may or may not have participated in the events listed below.

It’s fete after fete after fete.

Monday Morning J’ouvet (pronounced Ju-vey)- Wake up at 3am for the sole purpose of celebrating. Meet your band* on a designated street corner and get ready to dance and march along the road and witness the magnificent sunrise. Wear cheap clothing because you will get doused in paint, smeared with mud, sprinkled with glitter and drizzled in chocolate. Dance and whine** up and down the streets until the sun is high in the sky, then get cleaned off by the massive hose crew and rinse some of that paint from your hair. Even after washing off, you will still look like you went mud wrestling with a leprechaun, a fairy and Willy Wonka.

Monday afternoon Mas***- After a couple hours of rest, get ready to preview the parade of costumes, listen to steelpan bands, and chow on delicious Trinidadian food, knowing that the best is reserved for Carnival Tuesday. Then dance until the sun comes up.

Tuesday Mas- This is the illustrious and impressive masquerade that most people associate with Carnival. You can “play Mas” by signing up with a band and dressing up in an extravagant costume then dance/march in the parade. The crowds appropriately gather to observe the revelry, while the bands compete in a fierce competition for monetary winnings. This makes Mardi Gras back in the States pale in comparison.

Everything ends at 12am for the dawn of Ash Wednesday. Go home and repent for all the sins you’ve accumulated in the last 72 hours.

Wednesday Wash Down- Lay out on the soft sand and relish in life as it is meant to be enjoyed on the beach. You can dance to the Soca music blaring on the coastline or idly bask near the blue-green waves of the Caribbean Sea. Close your eyes and reminisce on one of the most energetic and spirited experiences of your life.

*Band- a huge truck with the most incredible sound system blasting Soca and Calypso music, driving slowly along the street. It will be followed by a truck with alcohol, a truck with paint, and a port-o-potty truck. Genius. Massive amounts of people gather near the trucks and passionately dance alongside.
**Whine­- a form of Caribbean dancing mainly utilizing the hips. Can also be known as “dirty whine.”
***Mas- short for “masquerade.” In the Caribbean, the more syllables you can drop off a word, the better.


A Food Lover’s Guide

After a week of indulgent consumption, it’ll be time to deal with some waist management.

Corn Soup – Thick creamy flavorful soup with chunks of corn and dumplings
Doubles- Two thick rotis rolled together with curry and chutney chickpeas, cucumbers and peppers
Curried Crab and Dumplings- Just like it sounds like and completely delicious
Bake and Shark- Fried sweet bread, fried shark, tomatoes, lettuce, pineapple, and creamy white garlic sauce in sandwich form. Garlic sauce, my new favorite discovery, is a common condiment and is usually added to fries, burgers, and/or hotdogs.
Pineapple and Cilantro- And onions and a bit of salt. Sounds weird, but it’s a refreshing snack.


A Nature Lover’s Guide

It made me green with envy wishing I could live here.

Maracas Bay- Take the winding path through the lush tree-covered mountains and arrive at one of the most beautiful beaches in Trinidad. Splash around in the cool, blue to green gradient ocean and stretch out on the velvety white sand. Hug a palm tree. Maybe two.

Tobago- Venture out to the smaller, more tranquil and tourist-favored of the island pair. The gorgeous shores are the epitome of Caribbean beaches. Arrive via 2-hour (party) boat or hop a 20 minute plane ride. Ride the glass bottom boats to check out the exquisite reef.

A Guyanese Valentine's Day

Blogger's Note: I won't be able to access internet next week, so there won't be a post until the week after next. To make up for the lack of a post next week, I added a few pictures to this one taken on Valentine's Day. Enjoy.

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Valentine’s Day is the most widely observed and celebrated unofficial holiday in Guyana. On the 13th, my students told me that I had to wear red and white. I informed them that those colors were not present in my wardrobe, to which they responded, “Alright Miss. You white, so you can just wear red.” I felt quite special that they were willing to bend the rules for me.

On the 14th, true to the students’ notice, I walked into school to see the teachers in a jovial mood, dressed in a white top- red skirt uniform. One student approached me and asked, “Miss, you’re not wearing red and white. Do you not love anybody?” Several other students and teachers greeted me with hugs and kisses wishing me a Happy Valentine’s Day.

The students in Form 4 were to prepare a luncheon for the teachers as a grade for their Home Economics class. The classroom was transformed into a fancy restaurant complete with red and white curtains, white table cloths with red runners, and red flowers as centerpieces. The luncheon was a light-hearted event (no pun intended) with impressively appetizing food made by the class. It was supposed to start at 11:30, but began perfectly at 12:30- when lunch is to be over. Needless to say, all the teachers were being served and eating during afternoon classes and the children were left with unattended classes, making a few teachers wonder why we didn’t just call it a half-day.

I received homemade Valentines from some students throughout the day. A few were labeled: To Miss Yvome. One was labeled: To the nice teacher, others simply To Miss. It was a pleasant day to be teaching, one where students and teachers alike were by default in high spirits.

(l) The delicious meal they cooked: Caribbean rice, baked chicken, and salad. Dessert was red jello with pink and white ice cream.

(r) Form 4 student serving juice to the teachers. Don't they look sharp?

(l) Girl BFFs love each other

(r) Boys enjoying mangoes under a shady tree

(l) Boy BFFs have to act cool

(r) Making Valentines instead of writing their essays. That's the deal I made the students in exchange for good behavior that day.

Newton's Third Law

Continuing in my focus on balance, I believe that for every uncouth action a student makes towards me, there is an opposite action someone else will do to make me chuckle a little. This week the students were completely unruly. As a result, there have been a few incidences that have brought a smile to my face. Here’s a shortlist of some of conversations we’ve had starting this Monday:


Grading papers and being interrupted by students…
Student #1: Miss, did you know that Guyana is the safest country in the world?
Me: Really? Where did you hear that from?
Student #2: Our Primary School teacher.
Me: And did she say why?
Student #3: Miss, because we don’t get no snow like America or nuff hurricanes or earthquakes. All’s we get is a bit of breeze blowing…and some killings everyday.
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Sitting in a classroom chatting with kids whose teacher didn’t come to class…
Student: Miss you having a baby?
Me: You mean am I pregnant?
Student: Yeah
Me: No, do I look pregnant?
Student: Yeah Miss

5 minutes later…
Student: Miss, can we go for break?
Me: Yeah, it’s break time. You can go. I’m going to go too and get something to eat. I’m hungry.
Student: Miss you eat breakfast?
Me: Yes, but I’m starving already.
Student: Miss, you got a worm in your stomach?

Doubtful. Otherwise I wouldn’t look pregnant.
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Walking home from school…
Me: So [Student #1], what do you want to be when you grow up?
Student #1: Aeronautical engineer Miss.
Me: Really? Well you’re a very bright student so I think you would be great doing that.
Me: And [Student #2], what would you like to be when you grow up?
Student #2: A liar.
Me: You want to be a liar when you grow up?
Student #2: No Miss, a liiiiiiiar.
[I’m still confused and give the child a quizzical look]
Student #2 [in an American accent]: Miss, a laaaawwwyer.

Right. Same thing.
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Sitting with another teacher grading papers….
Me: I don’t even know how to grade this. I know the student worked hard because he told me it took him a long time to figure out what to write, but he didn’t even follow directions properly. And instead of signing his name, look what he wrote at the end of his letter.

"The End. Miss this is my litter. "

Teacher: If that’s his litter then you should just throw it in the bin.

Dance Dance Revolution

Blogger's Note: Recently I've been all about balance. Since there is a super long post today, I'm off-setting it with two short videos for your enjoyment.
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There’s one thing about the Guyanese that I envy: the way they dance. Whether it’s a random child getting down in the bus park or liberated adults dancing at a club, they all have such a sense of rhythm. I swear all the babies come out of the womb dancing to the beat of their wails.

Here’s a quick show of Girls vs. Boys Dance Off at my school. There’s no music, so the kids are just dancing to their own beat. That’s talent.

Boys' Dance



Girls' Dance

Iron Chef Guyana

Blogger's Warning: Do not read this right before lunch or you may experience heavy drooling on your keyboard.

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When you mix a dash of creativity with a bit of boredom and a handful of crazy conversations, you end up with the first ever Iron Chef Guyana competition: Georgetown vs. Bartica. The Townies traveled about 3 hours on bus and boat for an eventful weekend that the Barticians graciously hosted.

The rules, which were taken super seriously:
1. Everyone was to purchase ingredients between 4-5pm in the market at Bartica in order to support the local economy
2. There was a $5000 GY ($25 US) limit on total ingredients purchased
3. Grading criteria (10 point scale): 4 points for flavor and taste, 3 points for creativity/flair, 3 points for presentation
4. Venue: Two volunteers’ kitchen situated next door to each other
5. Time limit: 1 hour
6. Secret ingredient to be presented immediately before the cooking commences
7. Trophy: sponsored by the friendly Bartician that owns the local furniture store

Team Georgetown Participants: Another volunteer from my organization, a Guyanese culinary student, a British economist, an Australian medical student. Not quite the G8, but we would have made the U.N. proud. We would have also made those people who draw the earth with all the people from different countries holding hands around it proud.

Team Bartica Participants: Two volunteers from my organization, Three volunteers from another organization

The Judges: A Guyanese woman, three British men, an American woman, all with different taste palates.

The Townies, including contest participants and a gregarious cheering squad of seven, arrived fashionably late in typical Guyanese style- we’ve really embraced the culture here. After scrambling with only 30 minutes left to purchase ingredients, we arrived at our venue and the secret ingredient was revealed: Callaloo. This green vegetable, resembling spinach, is the leaf of the Eddoe plant (a local potato-like root). We had a quick moment to discuss our strategy before our challenge began and the adrenaline starting pumping

(l) Shopping at the Meat Market

(c) A stack of sweet juicy pineapples

(r) The final product

Team Georgetown’s menu:
Appetizer: Bruschetta with tomatoes, onions, garlic, callaloo, cucumbers on bread with homemade garlic butter. (And it was better than the Texas Toast that you get in frozen section of your local grocery store, lazy Americans.)
Entrée: Callaloo stuffed chicken on a bed of pasta topped with a mixed vegetable spicy tomato basil sauce
Dessert: Crumbled cookies frozen with condensed milk, topped with bananas and cinnamon. Callaloo sauce reduced with rum, sugar and cinnamon on the side. Oddly enough this was actually really delicious.

Team Bartica’s menu (a Superbowl theme):
Appetizer: Fried tiny bell peppers stuffed with cream cheese and callaloo (Where do you find cream cheese in Bartica? Cheaters.)
Entrée: Vegetarian Chili with bits of callaloo
Dessert: Crumble pumpkin pie presented on a bed of callaloo

The winner:
Final Score- Georgetown 42, Bartica 30. We did well enough to make Mario Batali and Masaharu Morimoto proud. After all the judging was done, both groups celebrated together by stuffing our faces with our delicious creations, using our fingers, napkins and the only two forks between the group of us. Talk about a friendly competition.

Cat Got Your Tongue

Blogger's Note: Sorry there wasn't a post last week. I came into town to use the internet only to find it was broken for the day. Here's the next two for your entertainment. Enjoy!
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On Wednesday morning, there was a student who was being particularly mischievous. I told him that because of his inappropriate behavior, he was to stay in 5 minutes during break. Of course the second I turned my head to talk to another student, he brazenly ran out of class and wouldn’t come back even after I called for him. As punishment, I told him he was to look up the word “obey” in the dictionary since he clearly did not know what it meant and write it 100 times. I took the student to the library and after he put up a fight (by threatening to jump out the window), he finally opened the dictionary.

Student: The word not here Miss.
Me: Yes it is. Keep looking.

I glanced down to see where he had flipped to and the book was opened to the o-c section. I immediately realized that I had to give a quick dictionary and phonics lesson in order for this punishment to be effective. After explaining how the dictionary worked, I tried to then explain phonics to the student.

Me: Ok, you’re looking in the o-c section. You’re trying to look up the word “obey.” Where should you be looking?
Student: Me don’t know Miss
Me: O-bbbbbbbey. What letter comes next after O?
Student: Me don’t know Miss.
Me: Ok, well you’re in the o-c’s, right? You want to be in the o-b’s? B like ball. What sound does B make?
Student: bbbbbb
Me: Good. And what sound does C make?
Student: Chhhhh
Me: How about C like cat? Cccccccat. What sound does that make?
Student: Ssssssss
Me. Cccccccat.
Student: Shhhhhh
Me: Cccccccccat. What sound does ccccccccccat make?
Student: Meow.

As irritated as I was at his attitude and behavior in the morning, he did in fact answer the question correctly and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

When you live in a small village and you’re a foreigner, it’s hard to maintain anonymity like walking down the streets of New York. Everywhere I go, people I’ve never met before shout out to me, “Miss, Miss! You late this morning,” or “Miss, Miss! I saw you running yesterday. You were sweatin’ up baaaaaaaaad.” I think from now on I’m going to have to officially change my first name to “Miss” since that’s all anyone ever calls me by. Of course having everyone recognize you has it ups and downs. Here is a random collection of the good and bad of sticking out like a sore thumb.

- The men sitting on the side of the road on your way to school like to report to you what you wore the day before, like weather forecasters, except they're outfit post-casters. Everything's news here.

- Some of the conductors at the bus park spot you from 20 feet away, run up to you, tell you exactly where you live and they have a front seat for you on their bus.

- Friends are able to randomly show up at your doorstep without much direction from you because they ask anyone in the village where the “American girls” live and are directed through the back roads to our front gate.

- Similarly, creepy stalkers are able to randomly show up at your doorstep without an invitation from you because they ask anyone in the village where the “American girls” live and are directed through the back roads to our font gate.

- The mini-bus drivers that live in your village will veer off the road through the back to drop you off at your front gate. Special delivery.

- People you’ve never met before come up to you and ask where your white sisters are.

- A random cab driver that remembers seeing you before and offers to drive you home for bus fare ($200 vs. $3500).

Clean Start

Since it's the beginning of the new year, the students had to clean up the school. Nobody taught on Friday while the students changed from their school uniforms to regular clothes and scrubbed the school down.

(l) One of the many landfills behind the school

(r) The toilets at school. They don't have doors on them. I'm sure this would violate so many health codes in the US.

(l) Form 1 student closing the window so he can clean the back of it

(r) Form 4 student washing the walls

(l) Form 4 student climbing on top on the wall to clean the ceiling

(r) Two Form 1 students confiding in each other while sitting on broken furniture