Settled In, Both of Us

Now I have been here two weeks and have almost forgotten the hassles of getting the flat and classroom ready .....  as well as settling in Bev, as it is her first trip to Guyana.   As I sit here writing, things such as no shower, no phone, no net, etc., don't seem such a big deal    I guess it is like a mini-childbirth; after it is over, you turn around and go forward ......   The flat is familiar and livable, though I don't think I'd ever call it home.

Driver Waja dropped Bev off here early last Saturday and we did a walking tour of Georgetown and some shopping -- then fine dining (well, a good dinner) at my friend Taju's Princess Kitchen and Bar.  (For long time readers:  the US granted him and his family a 10 year visa to visit.  Yes, I am still mad at Canada Immigration, who did not treat him so well.)  We finally ended up at St. Ann's girls' orphanage.  I just wanted to chat with the new "General", Sister Leonie, about how she wanted me to be useful.   We walked into the dining room where they were having a snack; these are still provided by the community every day. That day's was donated and served by a woman who was celebrating HER 50th birthday... and her whole family was with her.  (A Guyanese custom for the older set, as the young seem to have adopted the North American reverse in which the birthday person receives from others.)  

When the girls saw me, I literally was mobbed; I could hardly stay standing.   I was overwhelmed, as I hadn't been there for two years and then only about once a week. The love fest soon ended when they started to play their favorite game, "Father John, what is my name?" ..... and after 2 years it was no contest, but they persisted in tormenting me - even the girls I had never met before!  And they took my camera  .....  This year I am going to have a photography contest for the girls, with prizes... Anyone have prize ideas?

On Sunday we went to the church that Dr. Daniel had come over from India to begin and now his son-in-law, Dentist John Daniel, is the pastor.  I go because Tabitha Mallampati  who is the director of the nursing program at University Guyana and a long-time friend, is also one of the leaders there with her husband, Sekhar, and (Holy Mackerel!) their 12 year old son Isaac.   They always are welcoming and, as customary, invited us to stay for lunch.

For me, attending the church service is to step back into a different world of religious conservativism.   I attend there out of respect for my now deceased friend, Doc Daniel, and the other good people.  When Tabitha met Bev, she said that she knew me well and that I was her friend though we didn't agree on much!   It is also the church that Doc Tony Carr had taken under his musical wing, and where he assisted with the choir and keyboard playing.  Assante, the keyboard player, told me that Tony has been giving her lessons over Skype.

Isaac was to begin a new school year the next day... and (to show the obsession with exams and success) he would write his Common Entrance Exams in the Spring and was told that from now on there'd be no fun - just studying.  These are the national exams that determine to which High School you get selected, from the best to worst ..... and so you know whether you'll get to college and/or a good job ..... There are even similar exams after kindergarten -- and some preschools have entrance requirements!  No wonder my nursing students only study for exams .....   So, sadist that I am, we have an exam every day of Problem Based Learning ...... but no Final -- maybe I am not too tough.

On Monday, we had Ian and Marysia Donnelly, as distinguished guests.  They were volunteers in Guyana when we were here in 2011.  Marysia helped the entire time as a tutor and then Ian was the prime mover in getting a sizable donation from the Rotary Club of Dundas, Ontario to assist with the purchase of some of the tablets which had been gifted to the first year students.   And so, since they were here on a training programme for 6 month volunteering in Grenada, we had a little PR thank-you picture taken... and Ian requested a folk-worship song... but I don't think he is getting religious.    And that night we had dinner with the CUSO contingent at their Windjammer hotel  - and a few beers -- for me:  Bev is a lady!

I used to call my missives Ramblings and now I remember why .....

Speaking of birthdays, a little birdie told the students that it was Bev's birthday and so they baked a cake and sang traditional Happy Birthday songs...   Birthdays are big stuff here... And Bev  had nothing for them and felt guilty - ah, good old Catholic guilt!

And on Friday we took a walk to the Promenade Gardens.  It is one of my favorite places in the city.  I can only imagine what they could do with the resources and talents of the Ayr or Pubnico Garden Clubs!   And then because Bev was thirsty, we stopped at my favourite sidewalk cafe, Paul's.  He greeted me like a long lost friend... Well, he does sell beer.  

A Rose between two thorns -
or vice versa, eh?

Paul's Sidewalk Cafe with live entertainment

We also had dinner with Bhiro Harry at the Everest Cricket Club in order to plan for the visit of two doctors from Freeport Hospital in Kitchener, Peter Kuhnert and Sujay Patel.  (Peter also is a Lutheran Pastor.)  They will come down for a week in October to see about developing an ongoing psychiatry project that will help Bhiro at the clinical level.  (Stay tuned as this new project evolves.)   Oh and we had a few beers .....


Finally, while I don't like to brag too much, I must tell you about an unusual victory for me.  I always give myself two weeks to learn all the students' names.  I put their mug shots on my laptop and study them, and at the end of the second week, if I can't name them all, then I buy pizza for the class.  As usual, they did their best to confuse me (with Bev's help), by switching places, adding glasses, etc.  BUT I triumphed without  hesitation -- well, with just a bit for dramatic effect!  So I had to do a little triumph dance .....  Sweet victory AND the agony of defeat -- the upper classes had told them there was no chance that I'd remember, so they were already counting on the pizza -- what could I do?!

A moment of drama as I paused and they were sure they had won...
[And no, Dennis, I wan't teaching in shorts - it was my day off.]

Enough already ..... There was so much happening, but even if you aren't tired of reading,  I am tired of typing.  If there was something I missed that you'd like me to write about, drop me a line, and I'll try.

Thanks for getting this far.  

John

Survived the Trip and the First Week

First thing in the morning -– peaceful and quiet, traffic hasn’t started, a little cooling breeze (forget that I have the fan still on) - - I am just sitting with my first cup of coffee and thinking about the past week.

Friday evening, August 30^th, I was saying goodbye to Anne and our home in Ayr.   To prepare me to be in a Developing Country, the airport cab was very late, and the line for security at the airport stretched from one end to the other.  There was no need to hurry, however, because the rain had flooded a gate and the plane had to wait… “Attention passengers on Caribbean Flight 602 there will be a slight delay… “   First it was to be 15 minutes, then they announced further delays in 15 minute increments, until finally we were going to leave an hour and a half late.  And all this time their website  already showed a 90 minute delay!  I guess they were in fear for their lives from a passenger revolt if they just told everyone the truth right away.  They were breaking it to us gently.   Thanks, Canada -- I felt ready for Guyana!

The flight was uneventful and there was no one beside me – ah, small pleasures!  I had taken my “gravol” to try to fall asleep and I did.  Amazing, because I usually can’t sleep on a plane.   Shortly into the flight I heard the gentle sound of a young woman’s voice.  I like dreaming on a plane.  However, it was the flight attendant asking about the rubber chicken sandwich in the cardboard box… and a $6 beer (No way; I do have some principles.)   Well, that was the end of my sleep ..… At least I had the inflight movie and music ..…   No, alas; they didn’t work .….  

I tried to go back to sleep.  We kept hitting turbulence which was a soothing, rocking sensation, and our helpful pilot kept turning on the lights and announcing that we were experiencing some turbulence ..… I guess he didn’t realize that the back of the plane was connected to the cockpit.   And my young tender-touch attendant never was seen again until we were preparing for landing.  Then:  NO COFFEE.

No beer is one thing, but no coffee!!  And then, (like an old CEO at the hospital who always started her management meetings with an overly positive Newfie saying so that you really just wanted to jump out of your seat and ..… ) in a long chorus line, our flight attendants hoped that we had had a good trip and “Please fly with us again”.

Anne would have been proud of me as I didn’t say anything, especially not anything that I was thinking…..   And, of course I will fly with you again, Caribbean Airlines. You are the only carrier going to -– and hopefully coming from –- Guyana!

Exiting the plane, I felt the breeze as deliciously cool and I wondered if I was in the wrong country.  No:  all the surroundings were familiar and I knew to walk fast, to get into a line early, because the immigration people seem to get grumpier towards the end of the line.     I was first in line and quite pleased with myself until they started to roll up people in wheelchairs, including some who had been walking back and forth to the washroom all night.   I wanted to scream “They are faking it!  Wait.  I can heal her; just watch me!”  I just kept chanting under my breath:  “Next time I am using the VIP line.”  

I was still through the formalities before the luggage arrived.  Actually, everyone was there before the luggage arrived.   A long wait, then everyone was heading to the “Nothing to Declare” line.  All Guyanese use this line even if they are bringing in a live cow in a bag.   It might not have been bad if their new super-duper scanning machine was working.  To be fair: it did work -- but infrequently. 

If there is one thing that I have learned about the Guyanese, it is that they abhor lines.  Abhor might be too strong a word; they just ignore lines.  So if you don’t knock down the old guy trying to weasel his way into line; he will be in front of you in the blink of an eye ….. 

I did get my bags to the scanner where it quickly spit them back and I reloaded them, only to have the belt on the machine return them again.   As I picked them up, the young woman who was apparently moving her 4 bedroom apartment in her ten pieces of luggage began claiming the empty space on the belt… My chanting was becoming more like my old NYC mantras ....… 

Finally, through the scanner and my bags are flagged to open.   I had to climb over a pile of bags to go get mine dug out from the other side of the scanner -- when it broke again.  There was nowhere to go but out, so the exasperated Customs official just said “Go!” And go I did, where Waja was faithfully waiting for me with his new van.  And it was still early on the first morning ..…

  

Our Flat

After several months and numerous correspondences, I confidently entered my flat and .. …  well, ….. it still needed some work.  No fan in any bedroom nor in the living area nor in the kitchen and bath area which has no operable window so is really a sauna.   The toilet takes an hour to refill, and the shower only drips.  It actually drips faster when the valve is shut off.  And two more screens are needed .…. and the fridge doesn’t cool .….   and there’s no internet in the flat.   “All coming ‘Just Now’, Rev…”  (Rough translation: “Not today Rev. Go away.”)  Otherwise the place is fine!    

Now, a week later, things have improved all around.  There is almost internet in the flat.  It was here for a moment and now gone ..… No one seems to know, but they’ll come back on Monday to fix it.   And the shower is promised definitely for tomorrow.   So, all-in-all,  good.   I can get on to the net by going over to the Nursing School, so there is no real hardship.  As we used to say on the basketball courts in Brooklyn, “No Blood, No Foul.”  No blood loss here, yet..…

It is actually good to be back and to realize how eager the students are to learn and how really grateful that I am here… A fine feeling!  I’ll speak more about the students and the School for my next blog, as this is already long.

And Volunteer Bev arrives this morning with the sun.    

Bev Arrived and Right to Work!

More next week.     John