Adventures in Guyana

Hello. Goodbye.

2007-07-07T14:41:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-07T14:06:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-03T10:50:00.000-04:00

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

2007-07-01T16:41:00.001-04:00

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

2007-06-28T16:06:00.000-04:00

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

2007-06-23T16:20:00.000-04:00

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

2007-06-14T18:57:00.000-04:00

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

2007-06-14T18:19:00.000-04:00

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

2007-05-25T13:27:00.000-04:00

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

2007-05-20T10:52:00.000-04:00

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

2007-05-11T16:58:00.000-04:00

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

2007-04-29T15:00:00.000-04:00

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

2007-04-29T14:53:00.000-04:00

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

2007-04-22T15:23:00.000-04:00

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

2007-03-31T17:53:00.000-04:00

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

2007-03-31T17:44:00.000-04:00

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

2007-03-24T13:31:00.000-04:00

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

2007-03-24T12:04:00.000-04:00

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

2007-03-17T11:02:00.000-04:00

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

2007-03-10T16:46:00.000-04:00

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

2007-03-10T14:55:00.000-04:00

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

2007-03-03T12:57:00.000-04:00

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

2007-02-16T14:12:00.000-04:00

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

2007-02-16T13:52:00.000-04:00

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

2007-02-10T13:58:00.000-04:00

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

2007-02-10T13:42:00.000-04:00

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

(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

2007-02-02T15:29:00.000-04:00

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

2007-02-02T15:15:00.000-04:00

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

2007-01-19T16:25:00.000-04:00

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

Say What?

2007-01-19T16:18:00.000-04:00

Oftentimes when I teach my Social Studies class, the children don’t understand what I’ve just written on the board. So to better illustrate my point, I give examples and hypothetical situations to explain the issue. We were talking about trade unions one day when I started to give one my examples. “So, say I’m a taxi driver...” I began. Before I could finish my example the class recited back to me in unison, “I’m a taxi driver.”

Picture Perfect

2007-01-14T14:12:00.000-04:00

Blogger's Note: I'm back to two posts this week. Enjoy.

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Over the holiday, I got the perfect Christmas present from my parents. They gave me a new camera to replace the one I spilled my Nalgene all over. Yay! Here’s a compilation of a few pictures (recent, not recent, and not mine) to celebrate the addition of pictures to my blog.

We made a day trip to Parika to visit the market last Saturday. Of course the market ended up being closed, so we just hung out by the river.

For the Parika trip, we had to cross the river by speedboat, as seen here.

The Guyanese clothes dryer: wind. This picture is old.

This picture isn’t mine. Jon, a fellow volunteer living in another region, took it. This is basically his back yard in Mabaruma. Beautiful.

But I’m not that jealous because this is how you grade papers with no electricity. Note the nice empty bottle of rum on Molly’s desk, which is a necessity when you have to work in the dark. Again the photo credit goes to Jon.

Stage Fright

2007-01-14T14:06:00.000-04:00

There are 4 stages in the development of interpersonal relationships: 1) orientation, 2) exploration, 3) affective exchange, and 4) stable exchange. Based on my experiences, it seems the Guyanese like to fast forward through stages 1-3 and immediately arrive at stage 4, overstepping many American cultural boundaries and oftentimes invading one’s privacy.

On Monday morning, shortly after I had just woken up, I heard a knock at the front door from an unannounced visitor. I slowly opened the door to see my roommate’s student take off his shoes and walk right in.
Stage 1 Orientation: Student begins to orientate himself around the house.

Me: Um, come in [student].
Student: Miss Nadia home?
Me: No she’s not.
The student sits down and makes himself at home while he rummages through our things.
Stage 2 Exploration: Student explores our personal belongings lying around the living room.

Me: Would you like some breakfast?
Student: No thanks Miss.
Me: Ok, well I’m going to get ready for school. Let me know if you need anything.

I begin running back and forth getting ready. The morning grogginess still hasn’t worn off, but I attempt to make conversation with the student. After a few exchanges, I run into my room, give the door a gentle push shut and begin putting on sunscreen as the student remains sitting on the couch.

Me: So [student], are you waiting for me to walk to school with you?
Student: Me don’t know Miss.
Stage 3 Affective Exchange: My thoughtful exchange with the student to determine his length of stay was not effective.

I continue getting ready when the student asked, “Miss, what is that cream you’re putting on your legs?” Startled, I quickly look up to see two little eyes peeping through the crack of my door that didn’t shut completely.
Stage 4 Stable Exchange: In my calm and stable teacher voice, I tell the student to get his ass back on the couch.

Back to Basics

2007-01-05T14:34:00.000-04:00

Blogger's Note: I've been back in Guyana for half a week, so there will be only one post. Hopefully I'll be able to resume the two posts a week next time. Happy New Year everyone!
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After indulging myself for three weeks of cleanliness, civilization and delicious holiday food, it’s back to living the simple life. I was actually eager to step off the plane knowing that I would be greeted with warm weather after enduring the bitter cold 50 degree Texas climate. Five minutes after standing in the Customs line, I started sweating and all too soon remembered how hot it gets in Guyana.

During my first mini-bus ride back, I was crammed against three women, a huge basket filled with bananas, and the conductor straddling me since he had no seat for himself. If the driver had suddenly slammed on the brakes, my knee would have hit the conductor and prevented him from ever having children. I had never felt so close to a stranger before, not even squished on the New York subway lines. It was a nice welcome back gesture from the Guyanese.

School resumed immediately after my restful holiday. The second I entered the classroom, I crisply met reality when I saw a note written on the board by one of the students wishing everyone a “Marry New Years!”

I began the new term by asking the Head of Department what I could expect for the week. She optimistically let me know that if I wanted, I could start teaching. Then she quickly added that only 12 students showed up today and realistically nothing would be going on for the remainder of the week. After an uneventful morning, mainly consisting of the 12 students socializing, I asked another teacher what we could do this afternoon. “Same thing we were doing this morning,” she replied, “We’ll be staring at the wall.”

The next day I walked into the classroom to see a teacher with a ball of yarn and a crochet needle. Clearly the day will be just as eventful as the one before. One of the teachers broke out a bottle of Guyanese Cherry Brandy and poured me a glass. She quickly noted that the bright red beverage over ice resembled juice, in case any student sitting 5 feet away asked. Then, in the front of the classroom, four Guyanese teachers and one volunteer made a toast to fresh beginnings and the new year.

I'll Be Home For Christmas

2006-12-12T12:52:00.000-04:00

While living in Guyana I’ve definitely relearned the importance of appreciating everything you have. Before I came here there were many things that I took for granted, like dropping off my laundry. There were also some things I didn’t have that Guyana could offer, like the opportunity to feed a baby sloth.

A while ago I made a list of things to do before I die. While not all of these things were on it, I can definitely check off the following for 2006:

- Climb up a waterfall- check.
- Begin to understand Creolese- check.
- Learn how to be more patient and resilient- check.
- Not get malaria or typhoid- check.
- Teach a class of 200 screaming children- check.
- Get on a cooking show- check.
- Learn how to survive without running water- check.

Even with the abundance of new experiences here, there were still some days when I asked myself, “Where the hell am I?” During those times I would just close my eyes and go to my “happy place,” which was the most luxurious place I could think of: I could take a shower with warm, clean water. Then I could jump in a nice fluffy bed and snuggle under the covers because it was actually that cold. The thought of that now even makes me feel a little indulgent.

Well for Christmas my wish is coming true. I’ll be coming home to Texas, after making a stop in Brazil. I may have one more post depending on my internet accessibility, then the blog will be going on hiatus until I return in the beginning of January.

So, If you would like to see a fatter, tree hugger version of the Yvonne, email me. My old cell phone is still being used by someone else.

Kickin' It With The Soccer Team

2006-12-07T12:51:00.000-04:00

Blogger's Note: I apologize for the delay in posts. Things have been quite busy lately and I haven't had a chance to use the internet. Next update should be this weekend-ish.

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On Tuesday just after giving my final at 1:50 pm, eight boys from the soccer team ran up begging me to take them to watch the Guyana vs. Grenada game. They already had tickets from the school, but apparently the teacher that was supposed to take them no longer could.

I was done with classes for the day and couldn’t resist their sad puppy dog faces, so I asked the Headmaster if it would be ok if I took the boys. He then informed me that we needed to be there in 10 minutes, and that the game was 45 minutes away.

By the time we made it to the game, we were fashionably late, and right on time for kick-off. The game was quite enjoyable. Every time Guyana was about to make a goal, the boys would run up to the front to catch a better glimpse of the excitement and the players’ remarkable athletic ability. The game ended 4-0 Guyana, leaving the boys in high spirits.

Since they were so well behaved, I promised them I would treat them to ice cream on our way home. We were heading straight down the street when all of sudden four boys veered off the path and around the corner. When I caught up to them, I turned to see a line of boys in uniform urinating in the grassy area on the side of a shop. So being a good teacher and embedding some civility in the students, I took out my hand sanitizer and made each one of them wash their hands.

After the boys had each received their ice cream cone and finished it, it was already dark. It made me nervous waiting in the bus park with the kids, especially since we were warned by the US embassy about lingering there after dark. Every attempt I had made to get the children transportation had failed since the locals were pushing their way to board bus. After 30 minutes I grew anxious and frustrated. The boys sensed my apprehension and bolted towards the next bus and fought their way on. Then they held back the oncoming crowd to ensure I boarded the bus safely and saved me a seat. It was so unexpected, yet sweet, that the boys were the ones taking care of me, even though I’m the Miss.

On the ride back the boys were in a jovial mood, singing and laughing the entire way. I started to relax knowing that we would all be safe going home, until I heard someone yell out, “Miss, John is licking the mini-bus,” followed by another shout, “John, Miss bought you ice-cream and you’re still hungry?” At that point I had intervene and using my teacher voice I had to say, “John, please stop licking the mini-bus,” words I never thought I would have to say.

Sugar and Spice

2006-12-07T12:36:00.000-04:00

Teaching in a third world country definitely has its setbacks and frustrations. These past few months have been difficult, but I’m constantly reminded why I’m here. Sometimes it’s a random person stopping me on the street thanking me for being here or a student asking me to stay another year that keeps me going. It’s holding on to these little moments that makes it all worth while. Here are some examples to make you feel fuzzy inside too:

Student: Miss, you didn’t get to finish your lesson today
Me: I know. It’s because the (unsupervised) students in the other classes were so loud (that I had to go babysit them instead of doing my job and teaching you). I’m sorry.
Student: Will you teach us tomorrow?
Me: Well I don’t have your class tomorrow.
Student: Ok Miss, well thank you for teaching us Miss.
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There’s five minutes remaining in class before lunch break and not enough time to start the next activity.
Me: Class since you’ve been so well behaved today how do you guys feel about going to lunch 5 minutes early?
Student: No Miss, we want to keep on learning!
Me: Seriously? Raise your hand if you would rather keep learning.
Half the class raises their hands… and obviously the other half would rather go to lunch.
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Student: Miss, how long are you staying for?
Me: Just one year.
Student: You won’t forget us when you leave will you?
Me: Of course not!
Student: Ok, here’s what you’re going to do. You take a picture of us, then put it under your pillow so at night you can dream about us.
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Mother sitting across the street from school: Miss, my daughter wants to tell you something.
The mother urges her 7 year old daughter to talk to me.
Me: Hi. What did you want to say?
The shy girl smiles sweetly but refuses to talk.
Mother: Emily says she wants to grow up to be just like you.
Me: Oh really? That’s so sweet.
Mother: Yes, she says that she wants to grow up to be American.

School Pictures

2006-11-25T14:19:00.000-04:00

My roommate’s family came to visit us recently. Nevermind that we didn’t have running water the entire time they were here, they still had a blast. Even better was that her mother brought her a camera so now I have some pictures to share. Enjoy.

This is Mother Pie, who sells snacks across the street from the school. She just poured Sprite into a plastic bag- that’s how they sell and drink it here. Mother Pie also likes to throw around the F-word in front of the children.

The school children are so precious. This is Troy from Form 2. Anyone want to adopt him? He always helps us sweep up the library. Actually we never sweep, we make the school children do it. We have a morning and afternoon cleaning rotation and the children have to be the janitors.

Meet some members of the football team (soccer). John, the kid in the middle, loves Beckham and carries a picture of him on his belt everywhere he goes.

The Form 5 boys sit 3 to a bench in class. Only Form 5 students get to wear ties. These are the class prefects- yes, just like in Harry Potter. Except they don’t set such a good example because they go around writing their names on the walls of the school building.

You've Got Mail

2006-11-25T13:53:00.000-04:00

Recently we did a pen pal exchange with some 8th graders from the U.S. Since 8th graders in the U.S. write at a much higher level than the ones here, we took the brightest classes and asked them to respond. All the children were really excited to be writing to someone in the States and immediately wrote “I love you” in the center of big red hearts, including the boys. It was best friends forever in the making. Here are a few examples of the beginnings of a new found friendship:

Dear Best Friend,

My name is [student] I am a 12 year old and I am a boy. The instrument I would like to ploy is the drums we have tress and Animals some of the trees we have is coconut, oworer and Jamoon. Some of the Animol we have are snack, Donkey. I love to do moth what is your subject. I con speak Sponish. I am 12 year old. When are you writing the letter please send your oddress and your telephone number. My telephone xxx-xxxx. All you have to do is this 011-592-xxx-xxxx. Call me as soon as possible.

Your new best friend,
[student]

P.S. My name is [student] a.k.a. Juicy Big. I will be sending a Crismos card for you with my photo of me. Please send a card for me of your. Do you believe in Jesus. Tell me in your next letter. Are you Cristton yes or no? Bye.
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Dear Jecquine,

Hello, and how are you? My name is [student] and I am 12 years old. I live in Guyana. ! was born and raised here. It’s kind of crazy here too because in Georgetown buses on the park comes there to drop off passingers and collect other passingers and theres a lot of pushing and wildness when you get there. So let me tell you about myself. The school I attend is Soesdyke Community High School. At our school we have half day everyday because our school is overcrowded with children. My favourite subject is maths and English. I have six animals five dogs one kitten. My favourite hobbies are playing games with my cosins, swimming with my family, climing trees whit my cosins and playing hide and seek with them. We have as much stuff as you have in the United States. Thank you for writing me.

Sincerely your new best friend,
[student]

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Dear Student,

How are you. as for me I am fine. I have black and white eyes and black hiere and I have fear skin and I wear black boots [sneakers] and black socks and I wear green shirt and white vest [tank top] and cakey [khaki] pants. My father works a weedieg muchen [weeding machine] and my mother like to cook everyday. My father like to weed everyday. I like to play football and cricket and I like frie rice and macoronie. I love to play every night. My father like to weed every night.
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Dear Jack,

My name is [student]. I am a boy. I am 11 years old. In Guyana it have a lot of water a 2 waterfals it has a rainforis and a lot of animals like lion, snakes, monkeys, fish, shark and wimon. My favorite game is cricket. I no you dont now what is cricket does play with a ball, a bat, and two, wicket and I look after a farm I mine docks, chick, pigs and sheeps, I would like for you to come to Guyana and sea. Call me and you would no more about mor. Tel xxx-xxxx. Friend Good by.

Sincerely,
[student]

Signs

2006-11-18T16:20:00.000-04:00

You Know You Teach at a Community High in a Third World Country When…

10. The head of department calls you in Friday afternoon and tells you that final exams will be next week and you need to turn in your test on Monday.

9. Final exams occur three weeks before school is out. During the last two weeks the children will not be doing anything.

8. The children throw their garbage out the window from the second story.

7. A student declares that she is attending a “cowboy school” since the children are “lawless.”

6. It rained in the morning and therefore school had to close early because all the teachers and students decided to stay home.

5. There is a lack of furniture in all the classes. The Headmaster walks into a chaotic classroom and tries to get the children’s attention by shouting, “Those who can be sit need to be seated.”

4. There is seldom running water at school and during a staff meeting a teacher announces that our school is the town pissery.

3. The head of your department comes into the back area of the school where your classes are held, sees the pandemonium, turns to you and says, “I wouldn’t teach here,” then walks off.

2. When you reprimand a child for doing something inappropriate, another child hands you a whip and requests that you lash the disobedient one.

1. You hear a teacher yell, “Hello?! Who gave you permission to jump out the window?”

The Food Network-ing

2006-11-18T16:04:00.000-04:00

In Guyana, many of the expatriates and prominent Guyanese citizens flock together. Once you meet one person, they introduce you to friends within their social network.

A couple months ago, I met an influential writer and consultant. He happened to know the Martha Stewart of Guyana (minus the litigious history and rumored malevolent nature) who has a program on national television called “Kayleigh's Kitchen.” The show is filmed straight from her magnificent kitchen and features guests who assist her with cooking. The best part about being a guest is that you get to eat all the food when she’s done cooking and all you really do is stand there and nod. The number of times you nod is proportionate to the amount of bites you get to have in the end.

This week Kayleigh needed guests on her show so our writer friend set us up with an appearance. It was such a special activity to be able to participate in. The kitchen was even nicer in real life than on TV, as was Kayleigh. While we were cooking I noticed two things that made the event so luxurious compared to cooking in our kitchen: 1) I was not sweating profusely, which would have made me a fat sweaty person on tv, which would have looked really shady being on a cooking show, 2) my legs were not being attacked by a million bugs and mosquitoes. I was also beside myself with joy when I used her bathroom and realized I didn’t have to fill up a bucket to flush the toilet.

During the filming of the show, I helped make homemade meatballs for the pasta, my roommate helped with the BBQ chicken pizza, and we all fixed ourselves a knickerbocker glory: a bowl of jello, fruit, ice cream, homemade whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and white chocolate shavings. It was heavenly.

Once we were done, the camera man promised to make us a copy of the program. It wasn’t until then that I realized the camera adds 10 pounds, which is exactly what I needed on a program showing me eating.

Addressing the Situation

2006-11-10T16:02:00.000-04:00

Last week there was a staff meeting at 10 am. I was informed about it at 10:04 am. There was a very grave problem and we had to convene during class time in order to address it. It was the 9th week of school and apparently we did not know how many students were enrolled at the Community High. The registers were a complete mess with some students listed in two different classes and some students missing registration numbers. Everything had to be redone, starting from decorating the cover.

This week I was flipping through a couple revised registers and I couldn’t help but notice the (correct) postal addresses of some of these students. Following Guyanese fashion, the students live in the vaguest areas in the country, some with only the name of the village listed. I’m not quite sure how the Postman delivers them mail. Here’s a few addresses taken directly from the registers:

Fire Station Area, [Village]
Squatting Area, [Village]
First Hill, [Highway]
12 Docks Area, [Village]
Public Road, [Village]
Back Road, [Village]
157 Prison Area, [Village]
Plot 3, [Village]

Animal House

2006-11-10T15:10:00.000-04:00

Blogger's Note: My camera has been out of commission since Orientation when I allowed my Nalgene to leak all over it. (And it’s people like me that are responsible for educating the youth of Guyana.) However, I have been able to collect a few pictures from other volunteers, so here is a rare post with pictures. Enjoy.

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Unfortunately there will be no posts about monkeys breaking in my house and eating my food, but that is not to say there are a lack of animals and insects around my accommodation. Here is a list of a few unwelcome creatures that have decided to live with us, sorted by “Non-Terrorizing Creatures” and “Terrorizing Creatures”

Non-Terrorizing Creatures
Armies of Ants and Flies
Where to be found: Crawling or flying around our kitchen, over countertops, and on our food. The amount in our kitchen alone rival the total amount currently living in the state of Texas.

Worms
Where to be found: On my bed, out of the tap we bathe from, in our fruits and almost in our bellies.

Geckos
Where to be found: Crawling over the ceiling and often turning my pillow into its toilet. We’ve named him Ignatius.

Mosquitoes
Where to be found: Biting me

Live Creole Chicken
Where to be found: Brought over to our house by our neighbor. It was later stuffed into a rice bag and sealed shut. When questioned about the rice bag, the response was, “Because chicken goes with rice.”

Baby Sloth
Where to be found: Found on a tree and brought over to our house by our neighbor. I didn’t know what a sloth looked like until this point in my life.

I'm feeding Bam Bam delicious leaves. He ate more veggies that day than I did that week.

Birds
Where to be found: Flying in our house from outside and not leaving.

Terrorizing Creatures
Daddy Longlegs and other big scary spiders
Where to be found: Hanging out in the kitchen. Good thing I don’t have to compete with it for food.

Bats
Where to be found: Flying into our house and swooping around the living room. He doesn’t leave when you ask him to.

Roaches
Where to be found: Flying around the house. One crawled on my foot and now I’m going to have to burn it and come back to the states with only one leg.

Wasps and Bees
Where to be found: Buzzing through the house terrorizing us.

Here's a picture of a monkey for all those eager to see one. I met Jack at an Amerindian village, and similiar to the school children, he doesn't listen to you unless you have food in your hand.

Guy's Gone Wild

2006-11-03T15:37:00.000-04:00

Once a year Guyana hosts GuyExpo, a huge exposition showcasing pretty much everything the country has to offer. Booths clustered under tents feature hand crafted products, eco-tourism education, furniture, electronics, and more. It’s a huge fair complete with booty-shaking concerts, exhilarating rides, fried foods, and booths giving away samples.

The exposition lasted 4 days and it was all anyone could talk about. I attended on Sunday with some volunteers, along with what seemed to be the rest of the country.

We walked around familiarizing ourselves with the grounds and snacking on free food along the way. At one crafter’s stand, we were looking at earrings made of out coconut shells and wood from the local trees. One of the volunteers had just purchased a pair and was showing me the intricate detailing, but couldn’t recall the name of the tree it originated from.

Volunteer: What tree is this?
Crafter: Dat’s five.
Volunteer: No, what tree did you say this is this from? Tree?
Crafter: Not tree hundred, dat’s five hundred.
Volunteer: Yes I know, I paid for it already. But what tree is made from?
Crafter: No, you pay five, not tree.

The back and forth continued a few more times before a Guyanese person said the word “tree” and the crafter understood our English.

The evening was spent eating delicious Guyanese food and drinks and enjoying the concert. By the time the exposition was over, there was a sea of empty beer bottles littered all over the grounds and obstructing the walkways. The remains of what looked like a landfill seemed more like artwork and evidence of a fabulously good time.

No Write Answers

2006-11-03T15:30:00.000-04:00

I recently gave a mid-term test to my 8th graders about population and human resources. Of course many of them couldn’t write or spell something comprehensible. I think I may have them draw their answers on the next test. For the few that could write, these were some of the answers I got.

Question: Define human resources.
Correct Answer: The physical power and mental ability of the people
Student’s Answer: Human resourcs are people who are human resourcs.
Student’s Answer: Human resources are the thinks around you want you canot see
Student’s Answer: I am blak and you are wite so I am mo rich den you.

Question: What natural physical feature causes Guyana to be sparsely populated?
Correct Answer: The Rainforest
Student’s Answer: Me makes Guyanana density
Student’s Answer: All the killings
Student’s Answer: The chine (Chinese)
Student’s Answer: Because some of the people are black.

Question: What are two ways a population can grow?
Correct Answer: Through births or immigration
Student’s Answer: Talking to somebody and makeing frieinds
Student’s Answer: By people and trees
Student’s Answer: Two ways tha we can grow a population is by working together and plant

What three ethnic groups were brought to Guyana as indentured laborers?
Correct Answer: Portuguese, East Indians, Chinese
Student’s Answer: Indenmdent (Independence Day), May Day, and Laber Day

Question: What area in Guyana do the Amerindians mainly live?
Correct Answer: The interior
Student’s Answer: They live in Amerindia

Ping Pong Conversations

2006-10-27T14:57:00.000-04:00

Blogger's Note: So I usually don't do this, but I wanted to say Happy Birthday to William! William is a friendly guy who owns the internet cafe I frequent here in town. If it wasn't for William and his wonderful Oasis, you wouldn't be reading this. Thanks William for installing air conditioning and Happy Birthday!
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I’ve noticed that the Guyanese can be very ambiguous when speaking. Most of the time you’re not going to get the straight answer you were hoping for, which means a bit of a back and forth between both parties.

Ordering Food:
Me: What’s “C-pon” on your menu?
Snack Lady: That’s Cassava Pone
Me: Oh. What’s a Cassava Pone?
Snack Lady: It’s a pone made from cassava.

Ordering Drinks:
Thirsty Volunteer: Do you have Sprite?
Snack Lady: No
Volunteer: Oh, I really wanted Sprite. Do you have Diet Coke?
Snack Lady: No
Volunteer: What do you have?
Snack Lady lists 2-3 Guyanese soft drinks. Volunteer takes a minute to decide while trying to look behind the snack lady to see her options.
Volunteer: Wait. Is that 7-up back there?
Snack Lady: Yes. I have 7-up. Do you want that?

Getting Directions:
Me [sitting in the library chatting with students]: Where do you live?
Student #1 [without pointing or giving any kind of indication of direction]: Over so.
Me: Where?
Student #1: [points left]
Me [turning to the next student]: I see. And where do you live?
Student #2: [points right] Over so.

Getting More Directions:
Me: Where is Providence?
Guyanese Teacher: Near the police station.
Me: Where is the police station?
Guyanese Teacher: In Providence

Giving Directions:
Riding along the mini-bus I often look out the window to see that Guyana is predominately rainforest.
Passenger: Driver, please stop at the big tree.

Would You Light My Candle?

2006-10-27T14:51:00.000-04:00

Diwali, the Festival of Lights, was observed this past Saturday. My day began with the downstairs neighbor’s kids lighting firecrackers at 7am right next to my window. They’re not even Hindu.

At 6pm, all the houses set out dayas (little tiny pots with oil and wicks) and lit them. The candles lining the verandas, sprinkled in front of the houses, and lighting up the steps were a magnificent sight. It was the night Guyana glowed.

We spent the evening visiting with a teacher who informed us that during Diwali all you do is eat. It’s now my new favorite holiday. She started by feeding us two plates each of delicious food such as coconut filled pastries, pancake-like balls, fried garlic mashed potato-like balls, and many other appetizing snacks. Once we were thoroughly stuffed, we went for a walk to enjoy the lights around the neighborhood.

It was a festive night. A herd of children came charging toward us screaming and laughing while one swung flaming steel wool showering beautiful sparks all around. We played with sparklers and, for a while, got to act like children and swing the steel wool as ourselves.

As we walked along the streets, we picked up more food. It was like Halloween except we got bags of delicious homemade food instead of tiny pieces of store bought candy. We stopped by a neighbor’s house who invited us in for 7 Curry. Although we were already full from the snacks, we couldn’t resist the curry and ended up eating until we felt like exploding. And when we couldn’t eat another bite, they gave us sweet rice for dessert.

After all the juice they provided us, I had to use the bathroom. On our way home I asked the teacher friend if I could use hers. She led me into the back outhouse, opened the door and told me to go on the flat concrete floor. I was taken aback since there was no drain, no working pipe, not even a hole in the ground, just flat concrete. I asked if she had a toilet and she informed me that my only other option was the go in the bush. I was not warned about houses with no toilets during orientation. With a full bladder and seeing as my only option was to go in my pants or in the dark concrete room, I hesitantly chose the room.

The night ended up being enjoyable and light-hearted, but I will forever remember it as the night I gained 10 pounds in 4 hours then peed on my leg.

Monsters.com

2006-10-20T17:00:00.000-04:00

Job Description: Looking for an energetic babysitter for 200 cute little monsters ages 12-13. Your primary responsibility is to oversee a group of 40 students at one time, but you also must be able to manage the remaining 160 students in your room while other babysitters sit around in the next room doing nothing. Ability to tolerate extreme heat is critical. Previous experience working inside a sauna or cleaning hot ovens will be helpful.

The listening impaired are encouraged to apply as noise levels within the classroom will sound muted.

The rare talent of understanding the children mumbling Creolese will be beneficial. Actors are encouraged to apply.

If you are over the age of 19, you must be married or else the children will think there is something wrong with you.

If you are Asian, you must know Kung-Fu because the children will ask you to demonstrate.

If you are a female, you must have long hair or else the children will ask you to grow it out.

Additional responsibilities may include being a nurse to patch up students’ cuts, being able to provide school supplies for students who can’t afford them or constantly lose them, and being a Blockbuster Video for the kids downstairs that ask you every day to borrow the same 3 DVDs.

Teaching students Social Studies and Reading is a plus, but not necessary. Resources are extremely limited and you will not find any suitable content in the textbook given to you. Ability to recall Jeopardy answers will be helpful.

Qualifications: English literacy

Salary: $225 US a month*
*Disclaimer: There is no guarantee you will get paid the first few months while the Ministry of Education shuffles around paperwork.

Fattie Fattie 2x4

2006-10-20T15:54:00.000-04:00

World Food Day was this past Monday. They had a whole day celebrating the thing I love the most. We were able to take the students to partake in the event as a nice little field trip.

Based on its name, I foolishly assumed there would be a variety of food available. There wasn’t. There weren’t even any snacks until after 1pm. The children just ran around the park looking at booths educating them on how to grow vegetables and raise farm animals. Ok fine, really the kids just ran off the park grounds and ate at a Chinese Restaurant down the street. There was also supposed to be an assembly with speakers from Ministry at 12pm. When I had left at 4:30pm it still hadn’t started. Guyanese Time.

Even though we didn’t have any food at World Food Day, I’m still going to write about it. The Guyanese diet is very carbohydrate heavy. It’s contributed to a little weight gain here, hence a few fat comments from the locals. During some afternoons we experiment with our cooking and once made fried plantains with a sugary brown dessert sauce. It was so good I stuck my face in the pot to clean off the leftovers. It was more exciting than World Food Day. I also said I would become vegetarian in Guyana…well that ended about 3 hours after I got off the plane. Let’s talk food now. Here's a list of some of my favorite foods in Guyana thus far.

- 7 Curry- 7 different types of curries ladled over rice. 7 times the goodness.

- Pouri (little fried bread balls) and Channa (seasoned chickpeas) given to you in a small plastic baggie for $0.10. Is it inappropriate to buy 100 bags?

- Chicken foot- It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s actually this garlic tortilla-like snack cut into strips and fried.

- Solara - Kind of like a cinnamon roll, minus the cinnamon and add some red dyed coconut shavings instead. It’s really yummy.

- Egg ball/Meatball- Hard boiled egg or seasoned ground beef wrapped in a fried cassava (potato-like vegetable root). Eat with sour, a spicy mango sauce. Not for the weak.

- Rastafarian Meals- Vegetarian meal supposedly cooked with no or little oil. Doesn’t sound appetizing to all you carnivores? Well it’s delicious. I had rice with Edoe leaf (tastes like spinach) and curried potatoes.

- Bake- Sweet airy fried dough. Mmmmm…..Eat as a meal with a fried egg or salt fish.

- Brazilian Dinners- Yes, I realize this isn’t Guyanese food, but it’s all you can eat for $7 and it was delicious and meaty.

- Roti and Curry made by Auntie Jean- Our landlord’s wife came over and showed us how to make roti (a fluffy thick tortilla) and chicken curry from scratch.

- Cook up- Rice with coconut milk, beans, and some other spices. Most people add chicken or beef to the dish.

Playing With Fire

2006-10-13T16:10:00.000-04:00

My first Guyanese fire drill experience started at 10 am when a teacher walked up and down the school hallway ringing a bell. Students energetically shout “Fire! Fire!” and stampeded out the doorway. Many of them kept running until they got home.

As a result, in my afternoon class only 7 of 44 the students were present. Frustrated at the rampant truancy, I asked my condensed class why everyone thought it was ok to skip school.

“It’s just the Guyanese way, Miss. You just have to get used to it.”
“Well then I don’t know why I even come to teach when no one ever shows up. I should just stay home.”
“Alright Miss. If you want, I can sign you in everyday.”

Two Timing

2006-10-13T16:05:00.000-04:00

There are two different times that people generally run on: 1) on time and 2) Guyanese Standard Time. There are two different approaches when running on GST. People here are either too laid back and have no concept of time or too impatient and have no concept of time. Here are a few times the Guyanese have chosen to run on their own time.

Monday 8:45am
Teachers are supposed to arrive at school at 8:15am. School is supposed to begin at 8:30 am. Teachers and students are waiting outside the locked school.
Headmaster walks onto the school compound: Good morning! I didn’t know I had the key with me this morning.
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Tuesday 3:45pm
Landlord’s wife: I received your light bill on Saturday and it’s due today.
Me: What? Today?
Landlord’s wife: Yes, you must pay it today or else your light will be cut off. Then you have to pay an extra $3000 (Guyanese dollars) to get it turned on again. You can go to the Western Union tomorrow morning at 8am to make the payment.
Me: But if I go tomorrow morning will my electricity be cut off?
Landlord’s wife: Yes, probably so. But you can go tomorrow. It’s no problem.
Me: Well what time does it close today? Can I go now?
Landlord’s wife: It closes at 4:30. You’ll need to collect your money and bring it over there. But you can pay tomorrow morning on your way to school.
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Monday 5:50pm
Neighbor: Hi! I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I’m applying for a job and I need a recommendation. Would you write one for me?
Me: Oh of course. When do you need it by?
Neighbor: Well I’ll need to have it printed out and bring it to them early tomorrow morning. The internet place closes at 7pm. Can you have it done before 7?
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Tuesday 5:30 pm
There’s an alarming banging against my front door. I’m startled, and rush to my room to change into something more appropriate. The tempo of the knock continues faster and begins to mimic my heart rate. The knocking turns into a pounding as if there is a huge emergency.

I open the door and my downstairs neighbor is standing there. “Hi,” she says, “Can I have some food?” I’m caught off guard and look at her quizzically. “Just a joke. I want to use your phone to call my sister.”

Sports Complex-ities

2006-10-07T14:57:00.000-04:00

Sports Week commenced on Monday with absolutely no teaching or learning. The school was divided into 3 houses named after past Headmasters: Jacobs House, Williams House, and Vickery House. Each House included students from all five forms competing for the school title, just like in Harry Potter. We even have prefects that monitor the students on a regular basis, just like Harry Potter. The only difference is instead of walking around waving wands at each other, the students here walk around whipping rags at each other.

On Friday we had the Inter-House Championship Games. The entire day was completely disorganized, much like the former part of the week. The opening ceremony kicked off with the students grouped by house lined up behind a banner marching to the beat of “Who will win? [Insert house affiliation here]!” It was the most school spirit I had seen from these students. I almost didn’t recognize these kids they were so behaved and obedient. Kids can be so complex.

The track events began with the 1500 meter boys race. Students were running barefoot out in the hot sand track. Apparently having clean shoes is more important than stepping on rocks and cutting your foot open or getting chiggers or hepatitis. A few students started the first lap then gave up and started walking. Another few ran for two laps, then off into the bleachers. I asked a student from my house why ran off the track. He candidly replied that the sand was too hot for his feet so he didn’t feel like running anymore.

It made me so proud seeing my students run like little speedracers and so pleased to see the accomplished looks on their faces after winning. Some of these kids have such great athletic ability, but I guess they’ve also had plenty of practice running away from me whenever I call for them.

True to the Guyanese misunderstanding of time, Sports Week is scheduled to continue next week with field events.

Amerindian Heritage Month

2006-10-07T14:48:00.000-04:00

Last weekend marked the end of Amerindian Heritage month. To celebrate, we attended a festival in the Amerindian village of St. Cuthbert.

We left at 7am on the back of a 4 wheel drive pick-up truck crammed with 13 people sitting on wooden planks held up by crates. We drove up the Linden-Soesdyke Highway for about 20 minutes before turning off into a narrow inconspicuous dirt road for another hour through the forest.

The dirt road quickly turned into a bumpy sandy road, which made it seem like a roller coaster ride with no seat belts or guard rails and no one to sue if you fall out. At one point the sand was so uneven that the truck was driving at a 30 degree angle. Occasionally a few passengers popped out of their seats from speeding over the jagged terrain. Seeing this forced the rest of us to grip tightly on the side of the truck, only letting go to tuck in our exposed arms from the outstretched tree branches.

Shortly after we arrived at the village, it started to downpour. This turned out to be a blessing because it kept the rest of the day cloudy and cool. We spent the day meeting people from the village, volunteers from a UK organization, and other white people. An intoxicated Amerindian man gave me a wooden sculpture he carved of an indigenous god who’s supposed to bring me peace. I would like him to give one to each one of the students in my school. We drank and danced. We were fed until our bellies protruded and we couldn’t eat anymore. I tried a soup with pieces of chicken feet in it, but passed on the maggots (a delicacy in the village).

Since the village had no electricity, we let the sun dictate our day and left shortly before dusk. Due to the long bumpy ride and some beverage consumption, one of the passengers couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the side of the truck three times signaling for the driver to stop. Then two men and a woman hopped off the truck and peed on the side of the sand road. The rest of us sat awkwardly in the back of the truck not knowing where to look except up.

We continued our drive back and it was now dark. The road was narrow and trees were a foot from either side of us with the thick branches hovering right above our heads creating a tunnel. The wind was cool against our skin, the speed of the truck was invigorating, and the landscape illuminated by the truck’s headlights was picturesque. I felt like I was traveling through a cave of trees; it was surreal. As we sped down the trail, I felt completely liberated from all the frustrations and annoyances of that week.

Lost in Translation

2006-09-29T17:03:00.000-04:00

Blogger's Note: For those once weekly readers, there are three posts for your reading pleasure. I was able to get to the internet in the middle of the week for an update.
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There are some phrases in English that carry a different meaning to those in US than those in Guyana. I’ve compiled a list of a few things that we’re used to saying that might translate a little differently here.

“Don’t leave home without it”
In the US it means- your credit card
In Guyana it means- your hand sanitizer

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite”
In the US it means- sleep well
In Guyana it means- brush off any bugs from your mattress, light a mosquito coil, spray Deet on yourself, and pull the mosquito net over you before you go to sleep

“Rain shower”
In the US it means- a mild rain storm
In Guyana it means- take your soap and shampoo outside and get to cleaning

“I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine”
In the US it means- I’ll do a favor for you in return for a one
In Guyana it means- I’ll itch the mosquito bites on your back if you’ll do the same in return

“Don’t sweat it”
In the US it means- don’t worry about it
In Guyana it means- don’t let your constant sweat drip on the students’ papers you’re grading

“Cruel and unusual punishment”
In the US it means- what our forefathers vowed in the Constitution that we would not have to endure
In Guyana it means- spending all morning under the hot sun hand washing a bucket full of jeans, towels and bed sheets, wringing the heavy cloth dry, hanging them out on the line only to have it rain.

“Your way, right away”
In the US it means- A common customer service motto originating from a fast food chain’s promise to make your burger the way you like it immediately
In Guyana it means- Does not compute

Learning Something New Everyday

2006-09-29T16:28:00.000-04:00

The way the education system works in Guyana is students grades 1-6 attend Primary School. To move forward they take an entrance exam which places them in a certain range of Secondary Schools (grades 7-11). Many students in Secondary School write at an American 2nd grade level. If a student fails the entrance exam, they attend a Community High School. These students tend to have more behavior problems. Most of them can’t read or write, but keep getting passed onto the next grade. Many of them can’t even correctly copy something from the board.

I teach at a Community High. (Yes, I’m quite brave.) The children at my school are monkeys and they’ve turned the school building into their circus. I tell them that everyday. A typical day is filled with a roller coaster of emotions: anger at their egregious conduct and audacious attitude, sadness from their poor school and home environment, frustration with the education system and that learning is not occurring, and delight by the way some of them brighten your day with their generosity or consideration.

Before I came here, I thought it would be nice if I could help/teach/change/motivate/inspire one student a day. Clearly I was being very foolish and overzealous. I’ve created a new math equation to help me calculate what a reasonable goal would be instead.

1 student a day
x 200 days of school (approximately)
- 20 days of doing nothing because there was no class schedule
- 82 days wasted managing behavior issues
- 44 days when students decide not to show up or randomly leave school without permission
- 9 days on the calendar for “final exams” but actually doing nothing
- 27 days the students randomly leave for “athletics” even though they aren’t on a sports team
- 7 days of not teaching for unannounced staff meetings that take place during school hours
- 10 days of not teaching set aside for “Sports Week” but lasts longer than 5 days
= 1 student

Out of all 200 students I have, touching one student’s life this entire year is a much more reasonable and attainable goal. I still have a lot of work to do.

It’s a month into school and we just got our class schedules this week. Oh, and I also found out I’m going to be teaching Reading as well as Social Studies.

The Post Game Report

2006-09-27T11:06:00.000-04:00

Blogger's Note: Since this is a mid-week post there will only be one. I'll post two more this weekend.
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Two weeks ago I mentioned how impossible it is to maneuver the postal system in Guyana. Well after a few more obstacles, I’ve finally scored my package from the impenetrable Guyanese Postal Services. It was done with a good solid fight from the Post Office and many offenses made to me.

Monday Night
I receive a call from my Field Director saying that she received the package slip and since she was already going to the post office she would (as a favor this time only) go ahead and pick it up for me. We planned to meet in town after school on Tuesday. Sadly, receiving a big brown box was going to be the highlight of my week. I was so excited I couldn't sleep at night.

Score: Yvonne-0, Post Office- 16

Tuesday After School
My Field Director goes to the post office with my package slip in hand. She asks to pick up a package under my name, in care of [Ms. Field Director]. The Post Office goes on defense.

Postal Worker: Your name is not Yvonne. You cannot pick up the package.
Field Director: But it says c/o. That stands for “care of” which means I can pick up the package for her.
Postal Worker: No. She has to pick it up herself.
Field Director: But you see, my name is also on the package under “care of”, which means I can pick it up as well.

This match continues for 15 tedious minutes.

Postal Worker: Fine! I will let you pick up her package. But you will have to come back tomorrow morning because there is a bomb threat and we’re shutting down the Post Office.

Apparently bomb threats occur quite often. I wonder why.

Score: Yvonne-0, Post Office- 19

Wednesday Morning
I go into town bright and early for another attempt at the Post Office. There is no line, just a huddle of people gathered around a window waving their package slips at a postal worker. I hand in my slip and wait 15 minutes for them to retrieve it. Then the package sits there for another 15 minutes as the postal workers stand around taking time outs as they please. I’m never getting a break with this.

A woman approaches me and asks if I was here two Saturdays ago. I confirm she's correct and she tells me I’m being awfully quiet today. She searches for my package. I see it underneath a pile of boxes. She finds it then flagrantly walks away. That was foul, but apparently they get to just make up the rules as they go along.

15 minutes later they rip open my package and fumble through it like it’s a Barney’s sale. After emptying out the contents of my package it sits there for another 15 minutes. A woman comes around, shoves my belongings back in the box, then haphazardly tapes it back together. She writes down all the information from my package slip, attaches a random value for its contents, and tells me to advance to the next window to pay a customs fee.

At the next window the woman writes down all the information over again from my package slip. I pay and she asks me to go to the next window.

At the next window I can pick up package after the woman writes down all the information from my package slip again. Their strategy is clearly to run down the time on the clock.

Postal Worker: Sign here.
I sign my name
Postal Worker: I can’t read that! That’s scratch!
Me: But that’s my signature.
Postal Worker: Well write it out. Here and then here again.

After over an hour at the post office and a month of waiting, I finally score my package. (Thanks Mom! I love you!)

Final Score: Yvonne- 1 Post Office-24

Choose Your Own Guyanese Adventure

2006-09-23T12:36:00.000-04:00

From now on I think I'll keep up the two posts at a time. So unless otherwise specified, please scroll down when you’re done reading the first post to enjoy some more Guyanese fun.
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I’ve been writing so much about my adventures here in Guyana that I felt like it’s time the readers gave some input. So, I’ve decided to let you guys choose your own adventure. Fun! Now select wisely and you’re on your way to your very own Guyanese adventure.

It’s 5:30 am and the sun has started peeking over the horizon. You are awakened by the sound of:
a) The neighbor’s dogs barking and the roosters crowing.
b) The offensive blaring sound of Indian music exploding from your neighbor 4 houses away, but actually sounds like they set up the stereo system on your pillow.
c) Your alarm clock.

You decide to go for a run this morning on your usual path. You run a short distance down the East Bank Highway and turn off into a dirt road thick with tall bushes. Your head is clear and you’re at peace for a moment as you admire the beauty of the country. All of a sudden you get a quick burst of energy and start running faster because:
a) A pack of 5 dogs from the house you run by regularly can’t seem to remember that you’re not an intruder and chase you down barking and biting at your heels.
b) You are trying to escape a group of men making sucking noises and lewd comments.
c) The motivating beat of your favorite song starts playing on your iPod.

As usual, you walk to school with your umbrella shielding the sun rays. The entire left side of your body is darker than your right side because the sun is always on your left when walking to and from school. You look like a chocolate frosted Pop-Tart. When you arrive to school, a group of students eagerly run over to you. They:
a) Greet you with “Good morning Miss”, followed by a hug.
b) Give you snacks and fruit so you’ll have enough energy to last throughout the day.
c) Turn in their homework.

The bell rings at 8:45. School was supposed to start at 8:30. The students slowly trickle into class around 8:50, stand up, say their prayers, then wait for the teachers to walk into their “classrooms.” In your first class, you couldn’t teach the students because:
a) There are four noisy classes in one room, so none of the students could hear what you were saying even though you were yelling.
b) You had to break up multiple fights in multiple classes since the other teachers didn’t show up and the children were left unsupervised, so there was no time left to teach.
c) It was picture day for the school year book.

It’s lunch time and you’re starving! You have an hour and you spend it:
a) Eating lunch in the library while disciplining a student.
b) Eating lunch in the classroom while disciplining a student.
c) Eating lunch in the staff room while discussing different effective disciplining techniques.

In your afternoon class you give the students a quiz. You collect the papers and begin reading some of the responses. There’s a paper that catches your eye because:
a) The student is illiterate and wrote: “I frind sipenti minv entoents I frind sipenti minv entoents”
b) The student was not paying attention and wrote: “Miss bon’t teech me this. I bo not no ansr.”
c) The student wrote in purple pen when they’re supposed to write in blue or black and made lots of drawings on the border.

School’s over. You walk home with a few school children. They’re somewhat charming only when they want to be. Actually it’s only the ones that walk with you that are charming. One of them invites herself over to your apartment on Friday, which creates a domino effect of all the students wanting to visit. You finally arrive home tired and sweaty from the heat and having to carry home a bunch of books and papers. You rest for a short while, but then decide to:
a) Lesson plan. You need to prepare for the next day so better get started.
b) Do a little bit of laundry. You have a huge pile to hand wash so better get started.
c) Open a bottle of wine. You promised a friend you would meet up at a bar later, but might as well get started.

Congratulations, you just finished your very own Guyanese adventure! But if you chose c) for any of the above, then you need to start over because you just chose yourself an American adventure.

Frank-in-style

2006-09-23T11:41:00.000-04:00

The Guyanese are really frank and candid when it comes to speaking. What Americans might perceive as monstrosities are actually just their style and manner of speaking. Most of the time, there’s no need to take offense. Here are a few examples of how their brutal honesty has come across to me or other volunteers:

Student: Wow Miss! You’re very sweaty. Your back is soaked with sweat. How come you’re always so sweaty everyday?
[Ok, so I look like I just jumped in the creek.]
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Student: Miss, why do you wear your (button-down) shirt tucked in your skirt?
Me: Don’t you think it looks nicer this way?
Student: I don’t like it. You shouldn’t wear the same thing every day. You should wear more dresses.
[Ok, so I have bad fashion sense.]
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Teacher: I can tell you slept well last night because your cheeks are fat today.
[Ok, so I ate a lot of carbs yesterday.]
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Neighbor: Hey, you look fat in that shirt.
[Fine, I’ll lay off the carbs.]
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Student: Are you and Miss Nadia sisters?
(Miss Nadia, my roommate and other volunteer at my school, is Hispanic. She has brown hair and blue eyes, but she looks pretty white for all intents and purposes.)
Me: No, do you think we look alike?
Student: Oh, then are you her mother?
[Ok, so I look old.]
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Man on the street (referring to the recent break-outs we’ve had due to the heat and dirt): Did a lot of mosquitoes bite your faces?
[Ok, so we’ll scrub our faces again when we get home.]

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Fight count: 31.

To keep my sanity I stopped counting the fights after a Form 4 student (a sophomore/junior) spit on a Form 1 student (a 7th grader), then punched him because he felt like it. When I tried to talk to him about it, he laughed in my face. When I tried to punish him (by NOT beating him like most teachers would have), he ran away. Yup, this is what I left my fabulously air-conditioned job in Manhattan for.

Going Postal

2006-09-16T12:34:00.000-04:00

Blogger's Note: Two posts again! Lucky readers.
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Going to the Post Office in Guyana is the most frustrating experience ever. I’ve had to take a mini-bus 45 minutes into town twice knowing that I had mail sitting in the back, only to come home empty handed. If the American postal system frustrates you, try dealing with the Guyanese one. Sometimes you just have to laugh it off to keep from going postal.

First Trip Friday afternoon:

Me: I’m looking for a letter here that was sent back from Soesdyke.
Postal Worker: (flips through a small stack of graphing paper with hand written notes) It’s not written in here. Come back on Monday and we might find it by then.
Me: But I’m a teacher and I can’t leave school. I was only able to leave today because it’s the first week of school and we don’t have our timetable yet.
Postal Worker: Then call back on Monday. Maybe we will find it by then.

Second Trip next week Saturday Morning:

Me: Hi! I would like to pick up my package, but I don’t have a package slip because it was sent to an office address instead of my home address.
Superintendent: Where do you live?
Me: Soesdyke.
Superintendent: Well you will get a slip at Soesdyke, then you will come here and pick up your package.
Me: But the package was addressed to an office address in Georgetown, not to Soesdyke.
Superintendent: Then you come here Mon-Fri before 3:30 and go upstairs. They will give you a number. You come back downstairs with your number and we will find your package.
Me: But I’m a school teacher and I cannot leave school to get here in time. I know two other school teachers who had packages without package slips and were able to pick up theirs last Saturday.
Superintendent: Do you even know if it’s here yet?
Me: Yes, it was sent 6-10 day airmail from the United States and it’s been over 2 weeks.
Superintendent: No, it’s not here. It will be here in 3-4 weeks.
Me: But the girls who picked up their packages were sent from the same place and it arrived in 6-10 days.
Superintendent: Do you understand what I’m saying? You come here Mon-Fri, go upstairs, then come back down with your number and we will get your package.
Me: Is there anything you can do to check for me right now?
Superintendent: No. These are the guidelines and you have to follow them.
Me: (sigh of deep frustration) Sir, then can I have your name please?
Superintendent: I’m the Superintendent. If you need me, just ask for the superintendent.
Me: But what is your name?
Superintendent: Mr. Patterson.
Me: And what is your supervisor’s name?
Superintendent: I’ve already give you too much information and I’m being very patient with you. If you want my supervisor just ask for the Post Master General. Good-bye.

Trash Talk

2006-09-16T12:31:00.000-04:00

Littering is a huge problem in Guyana. People here don’t dispose of trash properly and oftentimes throw it in the creeks or rivers or along the street. After collecting a large stash, they might burn the pile and leave it for the goats to eat.

The government has started an ad campaign called “Nice Up Guyana” in hopes of educating their citizens about pollution. It’s similar to the “Don’t Mess with Texas” campaign, except I’ve only seen one billboard for it.

On the school grounds, it’s a bigger problem. There are ladies who sell snacks right outside the building for the students. After consuming their snacks, the kids will throw the garbage right on ground or in the classroom. Sometimes it’s snack bags or drink bottles, sometimes papers from school and sometimes it’s banana peels. The school looks like a landfill.

Well I’ve decided that I will not have of this at my school. I’m going to start an environmental club called Tree Huggers Uncontaminating Guyana (THUG). I’ll be the leader and all my little THUGs will join me in the school beautification project. As a member, if you see someone littering you will be required to talk trash to them. I’m going to have my THUGs educate litterbugs on the consequences of polluting their environment. Hopefully by the end of the year, my school will be filled with THUGs and people will be more conscious about their garbage.

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Fight count: 17. Brazen little monsters.

Why Guyanese Men Suck

2006-09-09T13:47:00.000-04:00

Blogger's Note: It's a rare occurrence that I have internet access two days in a row. Originally I wasn't going to write another post, but since I was just on the most horrific mini-bus ride where roller coasters haven’t made my heart thump as fast, I feel the need to take advantage of this opportunity.
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I’ve been wondering for a long time what it is about the men in Guyana that make them suck. I think it might be in the culture or generations passing along unruly bad habits.

Whenever women walk down the street, the men make these sucking noises followed by some sort of inappropriate line. It’s the Guyanese version of whistling at a girl, except they suck.

Unfortunately a majority of the men behave this way. American women find this conduct rude and obnoxious. We’ve been instructed to ignore the sucking noises and comments and continue walking.

One afternoon as we were heading home from school, we heard the same group of men making sucking noises at us. As usual, we kept walking and ignored their Will-you-marry-me-and-take-me-back-to-America-with-you comments. After having us ignore them all week, one of the men got fed up with our standoffish attitudes and shouted, “Why are you so anti-social?”

The First Week of School

2006-09-08T16:03:00.000-04:00

Blogger's note: This is quite a long post about my first week. I've also made it a double header again so scroll down for some pretty pictures after this. Hopefully this makes up for two weeks of inactivity.

Day 1
School starts at 8:30am. The headmaster told us to arrive at 8:30am. There's no need to arrive early in Guyana. Students dressed in sea-foam green button downs and khaki bottoms litter the entrance of the tiny run-down wooden building. They look as if they could probably work at Prada, save the fact some of them would give you an attitude. All the girls have pretty green ribbons decorating their hair- it’s school policy.

A few of the teachers gather in the staff room while the rest instruct the students to move the tables and benches to their respective classes. There are four classrooms in the entire school. The classrooms are a larger room, and 4 classes gather in the same room with a chalkboard in front of them. Noise carries. Heat intensifies. There is no air conditioning, no fans. I have a permanent layer of sweat encrusted on me. Even my knees sweat. I didn’t think I had sweat glands there.

I am the most underdressed teacher wearing a button down shirt dampened by perspiration and a knee length skirt. All the female teachers wear polyester suits and three inch heels. How they travel in heels through dirt and sand is beyond me. How they stay cool in their suits, I'll never understand either.

After the students move their furniture, they just sit there all morning staring into space or chatting with a classmate. Teachers occasionally walk in and out of class to check on them, but they are busy writing their schemes for the term, something one would think would have been done over the summer.

I spend the entire morning cleaning and organizing the library. I peek my head out the window to take in the breeze and I see a young male student urinating on the grass next to the school.

By afternoon I’m surprised the students even came back after lunch. I take a book from the library and walk down to a random class and read to them. It’s useless since the "classroom" is so noisy.

The day ends at 2:30. I’m exhausted from yelling, I’m hot, and I have to walk 30 minutes back home.

Mental note: Don’t let kids pee in the field.

Day 2
Student: Miss you’re my favorite teacher.
Me: But I haven’t taught you yet, and I’m not even going to be your teacher.
Student: Yes, but you don’t give us lashes.

Mental note: No one likes a beating.

Day 3
There is still no class schedule. A teacher makes a sign that reads “We are no longer enrolling any more Form 1 students. We are out of furniture and space.”

Students have to fight for a seat. When there isn’t space available, a teacher will come and get angry at them for disturbing the class.

Downstairs a girl and a boy start punching each other. I break up my first fight, my good teacher deed of the day. Fight count: 1

Mental note: Teach the students kindness.

Day 4
A student from another class waves at me while I’m talking to another class. I ask her what she wants. She comes over and says she’s just “shaking me off.”

“Excuse me, you’re doing what?”
“Miss I was just shaking you off,” she smiles sweetly.
“Oh you mean you’re saying ‘hello’?”
“Yes Miss.”

Mental note: Do not get angry at students when they tell you they’re shaking you off.

Day 5
A handful of teachers have yet to make an appearance in school. Still no class schedule. I do know that I’m teaching Forms 1 (7th grade) and Forms 2 (8th grade). I start to go over my class rules when a teacher interrupts me and tells me there is a school assembly.

The students pile into one of the rooms, barely able to breathe. Yesterday two students had stolen a bike. A male teacher forcefully gives a lecture about stealing. The perpetrators are shamefully standing on two desks for all the school to witness. After the 25 minute lecture, the teacher instructs the students to step off the desks, bend over, and receive eight lashes each. The students who were sitting quietly on benches simultaneously stand up to catch a glimpse of the punishment. Silently protesting, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and walk out of the room, my heart breaking.

Mental note: My job here is more complicated than I thought it would be.

Short Picture Stories

2006-09-08T14:47:00.001-04:00

I'm back in town now and everything with the elections are fine. I apologize for the delay in posts, but things should be up and running back to normal now. Here are some photos... less reading, more pictures.

Meet the 2006 Guyana volunteers. If we weren’t tree huggers before coming here, we are now. We’re all smiling because it’s the third day and we have no idea what we just got ourselves into.

These are our guinea pig students during our teaching practicum. They were trying to show us a Caribbean dance move, the Passa Passa. The one in the white shirt brought a Bible to class last year. When the teacher questioned him about it, he told her it was to keep the demons away. Then he went around class charging students $0.25 for a prayer. Absolute genius.

We visited a beautiful Monastery during orientation. The priest had invited us to come so we arranged a time with him to visit. The hike was about 30 minutes through the rainforest, and when we got there he was taking a nap. Here’s us sitting on the steps. You can’t tell from the photo, but I was hungry.

The volunteers from Friendship, the village 20 minutes away, came to stay with us for five days during the election period. Their site was a polling location so they were instructed by our field director to stay with us until everything was safe. The night they came a big iguana ran into their living quarters. Mr. Williams, their groundskeeper, caught it for them. There was a rumor of him making Iguana curry afterwards. Seriously.

Yup, I’m living it up in Guyana. Here’s my roommate Nadia and I in our hammock out on the veranda. The electricity went out Tuesday night, so we swung in our hammocks by the moonlight.

Conversations

2006-08-26T11:12:00.000-04:00

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

2006-08-26T10:07:00.000-04:00

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.

Mini-Bus FAQs

2006-08-23T14:16:00.000-04:00

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)

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.

A Long Ferry Tale

2006-08-21T17:04:00.000-04:00

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.

Third world country transportation. Ferry riders jump down on the speed boats to bring them to their destination.

The crowded 5 hour ferry ride.

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.

Miss Understanding

2006-08-15T16:35:00.000-04:00

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.

Gold Digger

2006-08-14T14:57:00.000-04:00

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!)

Waist Knot, Want Not

2006-08-12T16:55:00.000-04:00

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.

Learning English in English

2006-08-09T17:40:00.000-04:00

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.

Guyana, Land of Many Waters

2006-08-06T19:25:00.000-04:00

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.

Quick Hello

2006-08-05T20:31:00.000-04:00

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.

Coming to (South) America

2006-07-31T12:57:00.000-04:00

I bought a guidebook to South America. I was actually looking for one specific to Guyana, but those books don’t exist. The wealthier neighboring countries always overshadow the less prosperous trifecta: Guyana, Suriname, and French Guiana. Even in the so-called comprehensive guidebooks on the continent. In fact, Guyana is a beautiful country with lush rainforests, many of which have been untouched by human destruction. When was the last time you stood somewhere that wasn’t already plowed, abused, or fabricated by mankind? Do I sound like a hippie yet? Let's go hug a tree.

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The only form of telecommunication available for my use in Guyana is two cans strung together by fishing wire. That being said, I’m giving my phone to my cousin’s girlfriend to use. Her name is also Yvonne, but she doesn’t speak English. For those who might be compelled to call my cell when you’re drunk telling me how wonderful running water and washing machines are, please refrain from doing so. I already know that stuff is great. So go ahead and do the three of us a favor and temporarily delete my number from your phone book.

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I made a top ten list of things I’m going to miss this year. I had pics but blogger isn't cooperating, so you'll have to enjoy this without visuals. Everyone please consume massive quantities of everything below. Just don’t tell me about it.

10. Picking out pretty colors for manicures and pedicures.
9. Watching college football and Brady Quinn. (Don’t worry, I’m still a Texas fan.)
8. Sending text messages.
7. Bacon.
6. Viewing my 3 quality TV programs: Grey’s Anatomy, Lost and Project Runway.
Will someone download and send them to me? Except for Lost…watching it while in the jungle creeps me out and I would have to make my roommate hold my hand everywhere we go. We’re not that close yet.
5. Sipping Starbucks frappuccinos.
4. Reading my daily dose of celebrity gossip.
3. Cupcakes, cookies, ice cream, basically sugar in general. (They have sugar there, but it won’t be the same.)
2. Enjoying the luxury of air conditioning.
1. Being able to easily contact friends and family.

Did #1 make you feel a little fuzzy inside? I hope so. Thanks everyone for all your kind gestures and sentiments. I’ll miss you all!

Blogger’s note: There may be a lag between posts depending on how easily it will be for me to get online. Please keep checking for updates… the exciting ones start after this.

Sealed With a Kiss

2006-07-21T01:20:00.000-04:00

Living in Guyana can sometimes be similiar to living in the US. Actually, you may be surprised at some of the similiarities between the two countries. I've taken the time to find the top three things in common and have outlined them for you below in no particular order.

1. Both are English speaking countries with influences from Great Britain.

2. Both countries have an eye for beauty. Behold Miss Guyana 2006. Now quickly scroll down before your boss walks by and thinks you're checking out pictures not suitable for work instead of typing your report that's due tomorrow.

3. Both US President Bush and Guyana Prime Minister Hinds aimed to improve the governmental postal system and sought to ensure that our ebay packages keep arriving.

Official US statement regarding postal service:

Executive Order: President's Commission on the United States Postal Service
Sec. 3. Mission. (a) The mission of the Commission shall be to examine the state of the United States Postal Service, and to prepare and submit to the President a report articulating a proposed vision for the future of the United States Postal Service and recommending the legislative and administrative reforms needed to ensure the viability of postal services.

- United States Executive Branch website (whitehouse.gov) made on 12/11/02

Official Guyana statement regarding postal service:

Two spanking new post offices have been recommissioned in less than 24 hours by the Guyana Post Office Corporation (GPOC). Mr. Hinds noted that from time to time he would pass the Soesdyke Post Office and observed that it had become a real eyesore and something needed to be done.

- Guyana Government Information Agency website (gina.gov.gy) made on 10/15/04

Moral of the story: If you don't get a holiday card from me this year, it's not my fault. However, for those of you who would like to write or send cartons of febreeze or cupcakes, please address your packages to:

Lot B Over Head Tank Street
Soesdyke, East Bank Demerara

GUYANA, SOUTH AMERICA

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Please note: It is a good idea to write the continent on your envelope/package as oftentimes people mistake Guyana to be in Africa. It is not.

Adios Texas, Hola Guyana

2006-07-18T20:00:00.000-04:00

Hi and welcome to my first blog ever. I now blog and I have cable. Please be patient with me... I know I'm Asian and I should be tech savvy, but I'm not.

So perhaps some of you are wondering why I'm posting now when I don't leave for another 2 weeks. The answer is two-fold: 1) I would like to figure out this whole blogging thing before I am forced to use dial-up and deal with sporadic internet service, 2.) I just received my teaching placement today. yay!

Well it turns out I won't be teaching high school geography, but Social Studies to 7th and 8th graders instead in a village called Soesdyke. How do you pronounce that? I have no idea, which I why I chose to share the news online. Where is it? I have no idea either, but here's roughly where I think it might be:

I was also given a quick preview of my lifestyle since I'll be in a more urban area. By "urban" I mean it's close to a road that runs to the capital. By "capital" I mean it's got paved roads. Here's what Soesdyke has got to offer:

Internet access- check.
Electricity- check. (Y'all, this one is huge!)
Vicious mosquitoes- check.
Bottled water- check.
Tons of holidays for all 6 major ethnic groups- check.

Here's what it doesn't have:

Washing machines or Laundromats- X.
Sports- X. (However, I've been told there is a Sports Week that lasts a month.)
Running water- X. (I'll have to fetch it from a well between the hours of 6am-7pm.)

That's all the info I have for now. I'll update again once I obtain my postal address. So I leave you guys with a nice picture of a well. I'm going to take a nice long shower tonight because I can.