Graduation and Kwakwani Teen pageant

Oh, hey, didn't see you there. What's up?

Oh nothing, just hanging out in Kwakwani. I've got the Guyana Marathon next Saturday. I decided to downgrade to the half, don't hold it against me. That should be fun, going out to PCV Kelly's old site and running around. Cue Run Through The Jungle, right?

Last week was the graduation for the secondary school. It was an interesting experience. I thought it was a little strange to be having graduation in the middle of the fall term. The seniors from last year came back and sat through a graduation ceremony. I asked Sirs Rolex and Russell about it and they agreed it was a little silly to have people come back just to sit through graduation.

The ceremony was half variety show, half graduation. There were some songs by the newly formed choir club (they were assembled about a week before), a few dances by the dance team (formed around the same time as choir club), and a poem. Oh, and one stanza of the Guyanese National Anthem. Secretly, I suspect the majority of people don't know the whole thing because I've never heard it all at once. These were all interspersed with speeches from guest speakers and thankings of the sponsors and school board. The assembly only had one speech directed at the graduates and the diplomas were given out afterward while everyone mingled.

All in all, I had a good time. 8/10 would graduate again.

Yesterday was Kwakwani Day. It's a big celebration for Kwakwani, just an excuse for a party really. it was an experience to say the least.

To start, I figured that Kwakwani Day would, in fact, take place during the day. I puttered around the morning then went down to Independence Square. It's the equivalent of the fair grounds back home.

When I got there everyone was still setting up, stringing flags around the fence and setting up the stage. I asked a girl that was sitting in front of the square what was going on. She told me that there was going to be a pageant later that day. I continued on, picked up a few things in town then circled back to the house.

Later, as it was getting dark, I went down to the square again. It's only a five minute walk from my house. As I approached I was once again crestfallen. The place looked nice, the stage was dressed up nicely, there was a fully inflated bouncy house and booths were being set up around the perimeter of the square. To add to the ambiance the soca music blared from the next door club, the Double Deuce. But still there was no one there. A few people were milling around outside but nothing was really happening. I cruised on home and since I could hear the Double Deuce's music from my house I figured when it quieted down that would mean the pageant started.

About 9PM the music quieted down and I could hear people talking over the speakers from my house. That was my cue to head on over so I did.

When I arrived, there were still lots of people standing around outside the field. There was a lady sitting near the entrance so I assumed I would have to pay to get in and that's why no one else was going in. So I paid my $300 and went in.

The field was lit by one large light pole in the middle and the visibility dropped off noticeably at the edges. In the back was the big stage, on the left were the booths selling food, and off to the right was a comically deflated bouncy house with about ten kids inside. They were happily running around but there was little to no bouncing going on. Further off, behind the bouncy house that I hadn't noticed before were a few rusty swing sets that I imagined would result in a hospital trip for a few kids the next day. And behind that was a big aluminum shed that, from what I understood, is where the after party would take place.

I showed up in the middle of the talent portion of the pageant. The first girl was just finishing her song, the next had a choreographed dance, then the next also had a song. Then there was a break in the action and the DJ, referred to by the emcee as "The Selector", played some more soca at a volume that could only be described as deafening.

The next section was the Work Wear. I was very intrigued to see what that would entail, you don't generally see Work Wear in the Miss Universe pageant so I figured this must be a very progressive pageant. I can't quite remember all of them now but I do remember there was a nurse and a construction worker. I remember the nurse because I was pretty sure it was a Halloween costume based on it's brevity. And I remember the construction worker because she was wearing a bright yellow helmet and took a few sexy swings of the hammer that she pulled from her tool belt. She also did something fairly suggestive with a tape measure.

One of the most interesting parts was wondering what they had told the contestants back stage. During this and the Formal Wear section the contestants all walked around a 10' by 20' stage just long enough to make things a little weird. It didn't help that it was very apparent they must have all been told to always look at the crowd. So when they walked from the front of the stage to the back, they craned their necks around and stared at all of us. It got weird. Just to clarify, the young women did a great job just their stage instructions needed work.

Between the Work Wear and Formal Wear sections there was another intermission where two Guyanes women came out on stage and did a choreographed dance. The dance itself was one of the most professional I've seen in Guyana. However, I'm not convinced it was the most appropriate for the mixed crowd as it was very suggestive at points. It also didn't help that they were dressed in short, gold shorts and tops that left very little to imagination. The reason I bring it up is that at the very end of the show when, traditionally, the winners and runners up are announced they made another much more sensational appearance.

So they trotted out all the contestants and lined them up. They all stood there in a line eagerly awaiting the results. Then the emcee said we all had to wait while the scores were totaled up by some unseen judges. But the girls didn't move. No one told them to. They all just kept standing there looking very pretty with great big smiles on their faces. After five minutes it got weird. After 10 things were basically unbearable. Then the emcee announced the dancers would be coming back onstage. I assumed that meant the contestants would go backstage and the dancers would come back and do some dancing. Nope. They kept standing there, very professionally, while this time three dancers came onstage carrying chairs onto the stage. I moaned internally.

The dancers did a very good job they were very professional and if there goal was to be more sexually charged than their first performance then they nailed it. My heart just dropped for those contestants on stage though. There they are, standing very primly just trying to do their best and all of a sudden they're getting front row seats to a dance that would be frowned upon in some circles. But there they stood, smiling, looking great they never faltered for a second. It was surreal.

The dancers finished up then the winners were announced. Second place was a girl from my health club at Kwakwani Secondary. After that, I went on home and put myself to bed since it was about 12AM.

And that's the story of Kwakwani Secondary School Graduation and the Kwakwani Teen Pageant.

Run Through the Jungle

                Last Saturday, the 15^th, I ran a half marathon out at Santa Mission. Santa was the site of one of our volunteers, Kelly, who was instrumental in the planning and execution of the race. It was a lot of fun, just running on a trail through the jungle. It was tough, the heat and humidity were worse than any race that I’ve run before and the hills and valleys were a little undersold.

                It started with a meeting at the brand new Marriott in Georgetown. Kaylee, Jeremy, and I left a screening of the new Bond movie, Spectre, to the hotel where we registered and picked up our numbers and packets. I was 21. After that we hung around for a little bit and ate at the pasta dinner in the dining room of the hotel. It was a nice little ceremony then we got on the bus to Santa Mission. Well, let me rephrase. We went down downstairs and waited for the bus to arrive. Like all things in Guyana it was running on Guyanese time which, in this case, was about 30 minutes late. So we left the Marriott about 6:30pm and made it to the dock about an hour later.

                After another half hour the boat showed up and about 20 of us got on and took the boat for a nice little night time cruise under the stars. After arriving on the sandy shores of Santa, we climbed up to Kelly’s old house where we were staying the night. On the walk up I noticed a few new pieces of infrastructure that hadn’t been there the last time I’d visited when John and Scott were here. There were lights strung all over the place making the climb much easier than the first time I’d visited. There was also a small stage area that I didn’t remember being there before and the trail was marked by flags all the way out of the village.

                The next morning people bustled around putting the finishing touches on the course. There were people from all over there, Guyana, the US, Canada. Some people had come all the way to Santa Mission just for running that race which was cool. More Peace Corps staff and volunteers streamed into the village and gravitated towards Kelly’s house.

                The marathon started at 8 so we all went down to watch that. After a little bit of ceremony the marathon started and then in an hour it would be my turn with the half. I meandered around a little bit lined up at the start then we were off! Even though it was only 9AM when we started the days heat and humidity was palpable. The sections of the trail enveloped by canopy were nice and cool though and luckily it was like that most of the way. And that’s how it went for a while then I crossed the finish line after 2:31:49 which was the second best half marathon of my life. And not only that, I came in 3^rd place and won a sweet, handmade basket!

Kidney of Lightness

Captain's log Stardate: 10212015

We found him! By Hulk Hogan we found him!

I stealthed my way down to the dock this morning, my senses constantly vigilant for any threat. After rendezvousing with the captain and stopping for fuel we were on our way into the murky, unmapped interior. They say some of these tribes are untouched by modernity and headhunters and cannibals still abound. With no sense of what lay ahead except constant danger the captain, Fred, and I ventured forth into the unknown jungles of Guyana.

The journey there was perilous, there were several villages between us and Calcuni. At each one the locals, mesmerized by our boat that glided across the surface of the water unaided by oar. Some of these tribes even attempted to swim out and greet us. But without a local translator we would have no idea whether they meant us harm. I decided the risk could not be taken and boldly pushed forward into the dark and might waters of the Berbice river.

With Calcuni in our sights and us only moments away, disaster struck. We were being followed. Perhaps it was a shadowy criminal organization, or a shadowy government organization but one thing was for sure. They were shadowy and they were following us. I quickly pushed the captain out of the way and took control of the boat. I veered left and then right each time pressing the button on the throttle to release our 5 kiloton depth charges.

The enemy boat struggled to keep up and weren't expecting an attack. The resultant explosions rocked their craft and sunk it almost immediately. With piranhas and caymans abound in the water, the crew didn't last long. We reached the Calcuni Health Center dock unmolested and disembarked. After appropriate bribes to the village chieftain they revealed our missing American's location.

We hiked in and found the missing volunteer simply resting, relaxed on his front stoop and blissfully unaware. After a quick exchange of coded phrases involving Back to The Future and what date Doc and Marty travel to the future in I checked in with the volunteer making sure everything was copacetic. He gave me series of whistles and coded blinks that indicated he was okay. Then he showed me around his little village, the school for 16 kids, his home made volleyball court, and his health center. It was quite a nice little place in the middle of the jungle.

Fred and I made our way back to the dock and, to the chorus of children's voices begging us to stay and continue to better their lives, we left.

The way back was uneventful. We cruised on home just in time to catch a breeze and have a few Banks beers at 11AM.

(90% of this is untrue and 100% of it is embellished to make me look cool.)

Heart of Darkness

The buzzing of mosquitoes greets me as I emerge blissfully from sleep. I reach for my phone, 5:30AM, the boat leaves in an hour. Quickly, quietly I assemble my gear and make a quick bowl of oatmeal and coffee. Reveling in a moment of silence with my meager breakfast, I turn over the facts in my mind.

A Peace Corps volunteer placed in the Amerinidian village of Calcuni located on the Berbice River in Guyana. During a routine check in, the US federal government finds they can no longer reach him. They try repeatedly to call him but a community telephone booth, often under repair, is his main means of contact. His Peace Corps issued satellite phone isn't working either. Now that 24 hours have passed, the mandate is he must be reached in any way possible. That's where I come in.

The US government has asked me to find him by any means necessary. I've chartered a boat to take me downriver. I don't know what I'll find or who I'll find. All I know is that I will find our missing volunteer or die in the attempt. This is what the government pays me for. To find the unfindable, to take the risks that no one else will, and do whatever it takes to bring our little lost lamb home.

The sky is turning light, I have to leave. This deep in the South American rain forest time has little meaning. The boat captain and I only agreed to leave at dawn and it's a half hour walk plagued by jungle rats and boa constrictors to the river. I'd say wish me luck but her that word has no meaning. Here, there's just the unstoppable forces of nature and the men and women that battle them every day in an attempt to scrape out what little life they can find. You say good luck, I say, I pity your need to hang on to something so futile as luck.

(Just as a heads up, this is satirical. Things get kind of boring here. I'm sure our missing volunteer is fine and talked to at least one person who saw him this weekend. This is just practice in the case of an emergency. Also, we do have time in South America.)

Local Celebrity

Hi!

October 5th was Teachers Day if you were unaware. All the teachers in Kwakwani took the day off and met at the ball field at the secondary school. I was totally unaware of Teachers Day until I showed up at school. I wasn't totally sure if I was invited but that's one thing that Guyanese don't seem to mind, one more. When I first got there, they were in the middle of taking short video clips of all the teachers and I wasn't sure why. We also have two British girls living in town also volunteering at the secondary school. The three of us sat down in front of the camera and the teachers asked that I, being the man, say a few words for all the volunteers. I gave an emotionally rousing speech about the special kind of person it takes to be a teacher and didn't give it much thought after that.

We cooked up a big pot of fried rice, played games, and just kind of hung out at the field all the day. It was nice, getting to know everyone and spend time with all the people I work with.

When I came to school the next day there was a big signup sheet for a teachers versus students basketball game that night. Obviously, I signed up thinking it would be a pretty small, fun match. In my first class that day a student told me they had seen me on TV the previous night. Thinking that was strange I asked a few more questions and found out that clip I had recorded had landed on the local station. As I went through the day it became obvious that most kids had seen the clip and it seemed like every one of them had to tell me they'd seen me on TV. This must be what Tom Cruise feels like every day.

Later in the day, I went down to the basketball court ready to show off my skills. When I first arrived there were about twenty people there but as we warmed up and shot around more people streamed to the court and the stands (a few benches on the sidelines). The court itself wasn't in great condition. Concrete and cement just don't hold up well here. The court also has lights and, I've been told, is lit all through the night every night. The student team showed up with matching uniforms and as I watched them, they looked pretty good. I asked a few of my fellow teachers about them and it turned out the team we were playing was the best U-19 (under 19) team in the country for the last 5-6 years. They had played all over the country and apparently had played in a tournament in Antigua last year and beaten everyone handily.

There were about 100-150 people at the game when it started. The game itself was a lot of fun. The student team was really good but I think they took it easy on us because somehow we ended up winning. Not to brag but I scored 6 points and had a few rebounds.

When I went to school the next day, of course, all the students had been there and had to let me know they'd seen me play.

Finally, my latest and greatest issue is currently in the bedroom. Now, I've had bats in the house for a while now. I've seen their poop around the house but I've never seen them or had any major issues up until now. So it started with a bat flying around the house. Not a huge deal, when the house is open to the elements like most houses are here, you're gonna get some bats once in a while. Then, the other morning I woke up in the early morning light and I saw 3-4 shadowy creatures winging around the room. It didn't bother me right away because I sleep in a mosquito net so I had a fairly decent barrier between me and them. But then, they all took turns flying under the bed and out the other side. I have no idea why, maybe they think it's a cave or something but it scared the poop out of me. I could hear their wings beating the air under the bed and felt the rush of beaten air on my face as they came out the other side. It really reminded me of that scene from Michael Keaton's Batman where he's talking to the giant bat. Since then, it's happened every morning for the last three days. I'm starting to develop PTBSD (Post Traumatic Bat Stress Disorder) and it's affecting my sleep. I'm starting to think

I'm the Batman.

You should tell your friends about me.

Justice.

Anyways, that's my big problem right now. Anyone know how to get rid of bats?

See ya next time.

I'm an Ecoterrorist

So sports day is coming up at Kwakwani secondary. At school, all the students are divided into houses much like Harry Potter. They don't have awesome names like Harry Potter but similarly they compete against each other in track and field events.

There's a big field next to the school, just a vast expanse of grassland. After school yesterday the male teachers went out to mark the field for the track. We don't have an awesome rubber or gravel track like all those high schools back home, we have to improvise.

So I showed up about 4:30 and there's two big oil drums sitting on the field. I don't think anything of it, these barrels are all over the place here. I'm just hanging out, there's some kids there playing cricket and soccer, some are just standing around and so I do the same. The other teachers show up and we get started.

First, we opened the first barrel of oil. It was pressurized so it hilariously shot out into the face of the teacher that was opening it. After recovering from the hilarity we poured the oil into a bucket and from that into two watering cans. Then, we marked the field with stakes and several, long, AVI (red, yellow, and white, cords that had been tied together. Finally, we started pouring the oil directly onto the field creating lines for the track.

I took on the role of watering can fill up person. I filled the bucket and took it out to the guys with the watering cans when they were empty so they could continue marking the field. We worked until about 7:30 at night and left it about half way done. Today, we have to finish the track and do the discus and shot put areas so there's a lot of oil left to pour on the field. It's okay though, we're going to take school off this morning and finish it up.

Now, how did I feel during all of this? Well, it's kind of the exact opposite of everything I've ever learned about the environment. I asked where the oil came from and the teachers told me it was used motor oil that was going...somewhere. I can't imagine they have a responsible way of disposing of it since so I figured it must have been headed for the ocean. So I spent about 3 hours yesterday pouring used motor oil into a field. If you had told me 16 months ago that I'd be doing that, I'm not sure what I'd say. Overall though, I enjoyed it, it was a good experience and helped my get integrated into the community which is generally not a bad thing.

One other thing, after they told me where the oil came from they told me a funny anecdote from the last year. Apparently, last year, they didn't think they needed to lock up two barrels of used motor oil so they just left it on the field. They showed up the next morning and someone had stolen the oil! And, whoever stole it, had refilled the barrels with water. As far as they figure, someone took it to lube up their chainsaw which makes sense since Kwakwani is a major logging town.

Well, that's all for now. Take it easy everyone. If you want to see a picture of this story you can see it on my Instagram profile, it's tdaniel541 so look me up there.

Hi!

Hi Everyone,

How about that ride in? I guess that's why they call it Sin City.

Today I was thinking about some stuff. There's a movie called The Guardian. In it, Kevin Costner is this grizzled old rescue swimmer training a bunch of noobies including Ashton Kutcher. In one scene that I've come to identify with, Costner has the new recruits standing chest deep in a pool of freezing water and he keeps adding ice to the pool. And he says, "You will spend 90% of your career in a mild state of hypothermia."

Now, here's what resonated with me. In Peace Corps you will spend 90% of your career in a mild state of frustration. Frustrated by the environment, by the situation, and, sometimes, by the people. Peace Corps isn't easy and it only took 16 months to realize it. It's not a vacation and it's not a job. It's a 24 hour a day, 365 days a year, lifestyle for 27 months. And the first day is just as hard as the last.

Well, that's enough of a melancholy look at the past. What's going on now, Tim? Well, I'll tell you.

I've been living in Kwakwani now for about 3 or 4 weeks? I can't quite remember. I started teaching at the high school, I teach health two days a week. This was the second week of school but I still don't have a schedule so that's a little frustrating.

When I first got here in April of last year (whoa) they said don't do anything for the first three months. Don't attempt any projects outside your day to day job. The idea was that you used those first three months to assimilate, like the Borg, and learn about your community. I don't really have that kind of time. In three months I'll only have 6 months left (whoa) but I am taking it a little easier and still trying to get my bearings. It's definitely easier here than it was in Suddie, only because it's more of a town then a roadside attraction.

It is really cool here. The other night I was playing basketball at the court for about 2 hours and it was tough. The kids here are really good so I gotta step up my game.

Nothing too big in the future, we have a big boys camp planned for next April so now we're working on that. I'm still just plodding away, reading a lot. Here's what I've read since my last post:

My Life as an Experiment - 6/10
The Art of Racing in the Rain - 6/10
Armada - 4/10
Ready Player One 5/10
Z for Zachariah - 7/10 (I heard there's a movie out, I watched the trailer and it looks very different from the book)
Me and Earl and the Dying Girl - 8/10 (Unusually humurous, I had to stick through the first 20 pages or so but it was totally worth it)
American Gods - 4/10 (Not a fan but decided to finish it. Started not great and just got worse.)
How Music Got Free - 7/10 (Really interesting biography of the MP3 and music compression)

See ya around

Welcome to Kwakwani Pt. 2

Well, I spent a week in Kwakwani. It was an experience.

The first day, Friday, David came over in the morning and we walked around town for about 3 hours. He showed me all around the school, the hospital, the general stores and the saloons. The saloons was kind of a joke but there are actually a few bars. It is a mining town after all. David told me The Double Deuce, a bar in the middle of town, is the nicest and most frequented one. Apparently the family that owns it is the richest family in town as well. (For the uninitiated, The Double Deuce is the name of the bar in the Patrick Swayze film Roadhouse. Coincidentally or possibly providentially, it is the last movie I watched on American soil. Chismet, much?)

After the walk, it was about 2 in the afternoon. We went to The Sycamore, a bar built next to a Sycamore tree, and had a few Banks beers. The music was Guyanese, ear splittingly loud and drowning out conversation, the sun was hot and the drinks were cold. A perfect South American afternoon.

After that I went home and whiled away the afternoon decorating and cleaning my new house. If I had to describe the décor it would be…Christian. Very Christian. As I was cleaning I realized the row houses where the miners live is fairly close to my house. I could hear the music blasting from their houses invading mine at a mildly intolerable level. Paying it no mind, I thought it would turn off at a reasonable hour and continued setting up my house.

About 10pm, I realized the music wasn’t going off. And by Sunday, I couldn’t hear it anymore.

The rest of the week passed uneventfully. On Monday, David and I went into the schools and hospital. He introduced me around to all the important people I might need to know. David also informed me that his counterpart, at the health center, was not interested in having another volunteer. They were getting two new staff members and there wouldn’t be enough work for me. Really, and I was a little surprised, she was doing me a favor. And it is nice of her, not wanting to waste my time.

After Monday, I just walked around most days trying to get a feel for Kwakwani. It is a very small town. At a quick pace you can walk around the main town area in about 20 minutes. It takes another 20 minutes to walk down to the waterfront where I talked with a few guys about fishing. Apparently there are some big fish in there, if I catch one I’ll let you all know. Kwakwani also has a basketball court which I’m pretty happy about. So beers and basketball are in my immediate future. Kwakwani is a pretty cool place, I think I’m going to like it. Who wouldn’t like a small mining town of less than 1000 people in the middle of the South American jungle?

Welcome to Kwakwani

6/29/15

Well, I made it. It wasn’t easy. Hard might even be an overstatement. But I made it nonetheless.

It started in Georgetown and after losing two compatriots to illness, another two to a faster route which left me, this new Guy 27, Kristen and her counterpart Andrea. This being the first time any of us had met each other, conversation was sparse to say the least. That being said it was still an interesting journey.

After departing Georgetown to the east, we found ourselves in New Amsterdam after an hour and a half. Then we waited on a boat man who would take us up river to Der Achstel, Kimbia, and Calcuni, the sites of the new 27s. We found the boat man at the dock and as he guided us to the boat I was initially a little shocked at the size of the boat meant to carry 4 people and their luggage.

The hard, wooden edges of the seats cut into my butt and lower back. Now, anyone that’s been on a fast moving boat knows it’s anything but a smooth ride. The bumpy water plus the hard edges made the ride about as uncomfortable as a ride down a South American river on a boat the size of a large table can be. After an hour and a half of excruciating pain we reached De Achstel. Der Achstel, and all the riverine sites, are very interesting. The villages themselves are not what you would expect a village to look like in the traditional sense. They’re essentially just a collection of homes that line both sides of the river and the only way to get from one house to the next is by boat. After quick stops in Kimbia, where Kristen got off, and in Calcuni we powered toward Kwakwani just me and th boat man, Colin. It eas a race to get there before darkness fell and after six and a half hours, we made it.

I dismounted the boat and caught a ride into Kwakwani Park which is the main grouping of houses about a 5 minute drive from the river. We stopped next to Shack’s Shop, a local landmark, on the way in to pick up the volunteer that already lives in Kwakwani, David. He guided us the rest of the way, at least, as far as we could drive. The road doesn’t actually run past my house. You can’t just drive up to it, you have to get out and walk, not too far, luckily.

The house itself is immense. It has three bedrooms, one bathroom, and I’m suspecting a cat lives in it while I’m gone. Its décor is…Christian. Lots of things decrying God’s love and love in general. It’s a little unsettling. Also, there’s about a half dozen stuffed animals whose eyes won’t stop following me. If I disappear suddenly, it’s probably the stuffed Pooh bear.

Making Moves

Well, about a year ago I swore in as a Peace Corps Volunteer, kind of. We totally messed up the swearing in we couldn't remember all the words to the ritualistic chant that is scarily similar to what the Army uses to indoctrinate it's own volunteers. But that's beside the point. A few weeks before the swearing in my group voted for me and two other volunteers to give a little swearing in speech. In my speech I told my group and the attendees that today, July 4th, 2014, that every journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step (Thanks Rob). And tomorrow I take the first step on another journey, the one to Kwakwani.

Kwakwani is small mining town in the middle of Guyana. To get there, you travel from Georgetown to Linden (1.5 hrs.) then from Linden you get a bus to Kwakwani (3-6 hrs.). In the sense of actual travel, it's much easier to get to then Suddie in Essequibo but travel time fluctuates a lot and I imagine my patience may be tested to it's absolute limits in the next year. I'm taking up a new position as well, Peace Corps Volunteer Leader. Essentially I'll be looking out for the new volunteers in the area. There'll be 4 or 5 new GUY 27s that'll be using my house as a base if they need to come in and get some internet, or just hang out and be around some other Americans. I'm looking forward to it, a little nervous since it's essentially starting service over in an entirely new area, but I didn't come down here to be comfortable. I came down here to test myself, see how much the things that I say matter to me actually do. This is another part of that test.

Scott's Thoughts

Hi everyone,

This is a guest blog written about John and Scott’s recent trip to Guyana.

In April, John and I made our trip down to Guyana to save Tim. At least that’s what we thought we were doing. Let me set the record straight: Tim is doing fine. There aren’t nearly as many snakes as I imagined, the locals call him “White Jesus”, and his host mom poured rum and coke for us at 11am. So, instead of saving Tim, we decided to spend two weeks down there kicking around the “Land of many waters.” Seriously… They say that a lot.

Our trip got off to a rough start after being held forransom by Caribbean Airlines in the Miami Airport. The airline wouldn’t give us our ticket 55 minutes before the flight because we were “late”. This is the first lesson on international travel we learned: Airlines are crooks and will make you miss your flight so you have to pay a new airfare. Be early and this can be avoided. We spent the night in the “Miami INTERNATIONAL Airport!” Sorry, the airport has an overly enthusiastic woman welcome you to the airport every 15 seconds over the intercom. You would think they might turn that off between 1am and 6am, but they don’t. I can’t get her voice out of my head. The next day we paid our ransom and made it to Georgetown, Guyana by 930pm. This is the point where we learned our second lesson on international travel: If you are travelling internationally, know the address you are staying at. They will assume you are a drug smuggler if you’re vague about where you’re staying. Our customs agent actually walked outside the airport to bring Tim back inside to explain where we would stay. Problem solved. Thanks Tim.

The next morning we went to the Stabroek Market. This place was actually one of my favorite parts of the trip. It felt like the entire Guyanese economy ran through that market, which isn’t saying a lot because their economy is in the dumps. We saw one of the tallest wooden churches in the world when we visited St. George’s Cathedral. Just down the street we walked past the Supreme Court and the house where the president lives. John and I thought that was pretty cool, but Tim really downplayed the importance of their president. We went back to the hotel to get a $1,000 ($5USD) plate of meat with some hot sauce and a Coca Cola with 64 grams of sugar (that’s 20 grams more than in the US!). I really enjoyed the hot sauce down there. It made most of the terrible food bearable to eat. That’s the other thing. The food sucks. Tim will probably say that’s not true, but he’s pretty skinny now so he’s not to be trusted.

We travelled around a lot in our 12 days. My favorite places were outside of Georgetown. Tim lives in a nice rural area where everyone is nice to each other. Depending on the time of day, they all greet each otherwith good morning, good day, good afternoon, etc. I really liked how friendly they were to me when I was clearly a stranger in their home.

One of my favorite days was our hike to Mashabo. We walked around this giant, beautiful lake that had trees growing through the water in the middle of the lake. I’d never seen anything like it. When we got to the village on the other side, Tim’s friend was waiting for us with lunch ready. It was one of the best meals we had. Fresh bread, cabbage and these black chunks that I assumed were some sort of bean. The black chunks are “chicken substitute” so I’ve decided to just not think about what that means too much. After lunch we learned to play some cricket. It was a bucket list item for me, but I still have no idea what the point of that game is. We met a family that lives in Mashabo and they cut down some coconuts from their tree for us. Then they gave each of us a “pear”. Don’t be tricked if you’re in Guyana and someone offers you a pear. It’s an avocado. Only accept it if you’re willing to eat a whole avocado without chips.

Santa Mission was another highlight of the trip. We took a 90-minute boat ride through the jungle in the middle of a heavy rain to get to Santa Mission. This site was secluded to say the least. My biggest fears in Santa Mission were panthers and snakes. We heard a story about a one-armed man who recently punched a panther in the face in Santa Mission, so we were preparing for the worst. Fortunately, we didn’t see any panthers. I still wonder how close we came to one though. We did encounter one viper on this part of thetrip though. We were hiking through the jungle to scout the marathon trail Tim will be running in November. I was the fourth person in a straight line, and I was the first person to see the snake coiled up in the middle of the path. That sucker was camouflaged pretty good. Only Tim was behind me to see the little dance I did to avoid it. It wasn’t the biggest viper I’ve ever seen, but it will get bigger as I tell the story more. For right now let’s call it 3 feet long. Kelly, the Peace Corps volunteer in Santa Mission, told us the village believes if you see a snake you have to kill it. If you don’t kill it, it will be invisible the next time you encounter it. We took our chances and left it alone.

 Before the trip, I read a lot about how to stay safe while traveling in Guyana. The basics were to never take minibuses, and only take yellow taxis because other taxis will kidnap you if you’re American. We took a lot of minibuses and most of our taxis were just people driving by that wanted to make a dollar. However, if I only followed the advice I read, we still wouldn’t have avoided our only risky driver of the trip. We took a yellow taxi on our way to the airport for our trip to Kaieteur Falls. The driver undersold all of the other drivers around and said he would take us for $5,000 ($25USD). This was about an hour drive, but this was still a pretty good price so we took it. This guy was the most offensive man I’ve ever met. He told us about his plans to rob the currency exchange downtown (it was a really bad plan), he told us he wants an American girl (which I assume he’ll kidnap), and went off about a few different races he doesn’t like. We’ll leave it at that. At the end of the ride, he demanded another two thousand dollars ($10USD). Tim handled it like a pro and said no because we agreed on a price. The driver immediately turned down a side dirt road and I my heart sank. I though for sure we were being kidnapped, robbed or murdered at that point. Turns out the driver didn’t know how to get to the airport and had to ask for directions. He still threw a fit when we paid him $5,000, but we were alive and didn’t have to see him again so we were relieved.

The trip to Kaieteur was once in a lifetime. A definite must-do if you ever find yourself in Guyana. It’s the tallest single drop waterfall in the world. It’s three times taller than Niagara Falls. We took a single prop plane carrying 12 passengers on the flight to Kaieteur. It was awesome and terrifying at the same time. John sat co-pilot and had controls in front of him. If our pilot had any trouble, John was our backup. Flying over the waterfall was one of the most surreal thing’s I’ve ever done. It was worth every penny.

Tim put together a great trip for us. He gave us the trip of a lifetime with limited resources. John and I made plans for this trip with the intent of sitting around and hanging out with Tim for two weeks. We were content to fish, play cards and sleep in hammocks. We had no expectations of travelling around the country and seeing everything we did. It’s two weeks of my life I’ll always remember. Thanks Tim.   

February to May, in Brief

5/8/2015

Phew, it’s been awhile since I posted but now is as good a time as any. A lot has been going on, almost too much to keep track of but I’ll update you on the big ones and fill in the little ones as you text and email me. Hint, hint.

February

February was a total loss for me. I was in site maybe a few days. All the other days I was in trainings or seminars in Georgetown. I can’t remember all of them but I did a week long one where we adjusted and reviewed trainings for the incoming group. I did a PEPFAR training where we worked on ideas for how to use PEPFAR money at our big girls’ camp, camp GLOW. There was one more training but I jus can’t remember it so it can’t have been that good.

My friend Mollie’s sister came out to visit her. We all hiked out to Machabo which was very cool. We saw a few monkies jumping from one tree to another like we were in a documentary or something. It was very cool.

That’s it for February, bit of a short month so not a lot of time to fit stuff in.

March

March was a bit of a blur as well, time has taken on another meaning here. “The days go slow but the months go fast” as one well-meaning temp DPT said once. March was spent hurriedly getting ready for Camp BRO which was in April. I had to lock down the location, money, supplies, food for 30 people for 3 days. This was one of those real Facebook Peace Corps moments.

April

The first week of April was also spent getting ready for BRO. Luckily, we were ready for BRO just in time. The Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of the second week of April we had our first camp BRO in Essequibo and second one in Guyana. There were some pretty great moments that came out of that and I’m happy I was able to be a part of it. That being said, it was a bunch of work that I wouldn’t wish on a soul individual again. After that, April was all downhill and I sailed through it pretty quickly.

My good friends John and Scott came to see me, which was pretty cool. They stayed for about 12 days or so. We went to Machabo to see Ally, Santa Mission to see Kelly, Mahaicony to fish and see Kaylee, then we just hung out in Essequibo for a while and chilled. It was very nice to see some familiar faces. This has been the longest I’ve gone without seeing John in the last 10 years so it was a real treat. We had a lot of fun and I really enjoyed it, thanks for coming, fellas.

Also at the end of April we had another volunteer, and my friend, leave. Ryan went back to Florida. He’s a good guy, he will be missed.

May

Well, it’s May 8^th as I write this. The big election is May 11^th, this coming Monday. We’ve been told by Peace Corps that we shouldn’t do anything on Monday and just be real chill for a few days after. Some volunteers are being consolidated and they’re all staying at a hotel together in a supposedly less dangerous area.

Essentially, this is the political landscape as I understand it. The People’s Political Party (PPP) has been in power for the last few decades. They haven’t been doing a great job so far and most people suspect them of stealing money as the majority of people in the government have large houses and their children go to school in the US. Basically everything you could conceive as being a blatant violation of their civic duty, they’ve been accused of including rigging elections. The APNU/AFC is a combination of two of the opposing groups that only recently joined forces last year. Rewind to last year, there were rumblings of them combining their parliamentary votes and calling for a vote of no confidence (like Star Wars and Chancellor Valorum) in the current president, Donald Ramotar. Donnie didn’t like this so he enacted a proroguement that stated Parliament would not be able to meet for the next six months. That six months ended in January, I think, the APNU/AFC called for a vote of no confidence, succeeded and now there’s this election. So that’s the setup for this election. If you recall, I said the PPP has been accused of rigging elections before and that is why there’s a concern for us volunteers.

The elections work similarly to elections in the US. There’s polling places people go to and vote and there’s reps from both parties counting votes and that kind of gives us an idea of who will win. Then they spend the next two days recounting and consolidating votes and an official winner is announced. There’s four scenarios that are possible here. First, the PPP is forecasted to win that first day then is officially announced two days later. Second, the PPP is forecasted again but then APNU wins. Third, the APNU is forecasted and wins. Fourth, the APNU is forecasted but then the PPP wins. I legitimately don’t know what the fallout will be from the results. I’ve been told if the fourth option occurs that’s when we might need to be a little worried but we’ll see what happens.

Well, until next time I guess. Y’all take it easy and I’ll be home real soon. 

The Last Days in Mabaruma

1/31/14


Hi all, pretty busy week so I figured I'd give y'all a rundown of what happened.


Monday started with PDM but I actually came in Saturday to attend the party of our great and fearless leader, Linda, the current Country Director. One thing they don't tell you about Peace Corps staff is that they are on a two year cycle just like we are. No one stays at their post for longer than two years which seems really unhelpful when you think about it.


Anyways, we went to the party, myself, Mark and Lauren who I met up with in Parika. We all hung out together, played some ping pong and had a good time in general. Afterwards we stayed at a hotel in town and the following day we headed out for Grand Coastal for the Project Design Management conference/training.


Normally, you're supposed to bring a counterpart to the conference and the idea is that you work on a project together with your counterpart that you can bring back to the community and implement. I was unsuccessful in finding a counterpart and, as it turns out, so were Mark and Lauren. So the three of us spent some quality time together at the conference, counterpartless.


Looking back at it now, I can't remember a single thing about the conference. The information that was presented was how to design a project using different strength and weakness tools. Now, these tools might work in an American environment where everyone is fairly well educated but out here where easily half of all adults, adults mind you, can't read it makes everything a lot harder. Not to say the techniques that were presented weren't useful, I'm sure they are but they aren't appropriate for their audience in their current form. And this was never, ever addressed by the staff presenting the material. I don't know if it was a given or they legitimately thought these tools would be helpful.


So that went on for three days. Then, I accompanied my good friend Andrew up to his site in Mabaruma. The only way to get there is by plane. It was quite a small plane, a Cessna 208B Caravan, it held about 12 people. So we flew out about 8am and arrived in Mabaruma about 9. It was a great flight, plenty to look at.


Mabaruma is a hilltop community. When we landed I noted that the altimeter said we were at 1000 feet which is probably the highest I've been in Guyana so that was pretty cool. Anyways, Mabaruma is sort of an extended community that flows down the road into a little valley where Kamaka is. Past Kamaka was Andrew's site, Wauna. We got a ride into town then walked down to Kumaka where we found a bus going to Wauna. Andrew picked the bus and as soon as we got in, I knew we'd made a mistake. Upon entry, we were met by a racket of chirps made by chicks sitting in a cardboard box. There were about 50 of them and throughout the whole ride every time they quieted down we'd hit a bump in the road and they'd start all over again. it was terrible.


After 45 minutes of our own personal hell we arrived in Wauna, which was beautiful Everywhere you looked, fruit trees, coconut trees, anything and everything that grows in Guyana grows in Mabaruma. We hiked up to Andrew's house packed up his stuff then we walked around Wauna. Literally, around, the whole village exits on a loop in the road that takes about 15 minutes to walk. It's a small dirt road that you take your car's life in it's own hands if you try to drive on it there's so many ditches and holes. We walked down to Andrew's health center where I saw the sign he had hung and the skeleton he'd painted. We went and met the Project Trust volunteers, the British equivalent of Peace Corps but way worse, and a few people that had been particularly kind to Andrew.


We left in the afternoon, back to Kumaka and stayed at a guest house there and the flew out in the morning. If you hadn't guessed, Andrew is leaving. He's a good guy and a good friend that I'll miss a lot. For those of you that are counting, that's five that have left now. Kristen, Rob, Emily, Kelly H, and now Andrew.


On the flight back, I got to sit in the copilot's seat. When you're a kid and you get to go in the cockpit and it's pretty cool. That still holds true as an adult. And if the flight was great on the way to Mabaruma the way back was even better. The whole time, All you could see was the lush, green jungle stretching out to the horizon. It was truly amazing and one of those moments that you realize that you're just a very small piece of something bigger than yourself. It felt good. And our pilot was actually an American from San Diego, California. Obviously, I told him my brother was a flight instructor in Oregon so if the pilot needed someone to take over the controls I was willing and able. and I might just do it for fun. He didn't laugh at the last part.


That brings us to today. Joe and I saw Andrew off at the airport. He's not leaving quite yet. He had a vacation planned in Barbados with his mom so he's doing that, coming back to finish the required paperwork then he'll be gone for good.


Thanks for listening everyone. If you want to Facetime or something I'll be in town week after next from the 9th to the 13th. My number is 592 674 8145 there's probably a country code or something, you'll have to figure that out on your own. That number is also good for whatsapp if you want to do some texting. I really do love hearing from people at home so don't be shy. They say one of the hardest things for volunteers coming back is realizing that life went on without them so please let me know what you're doing.


Okay, I've taken up enough of your time, take it easy everyone.

New Years

1/13/15

New Years was pretty cool this year. Maybe two weeks before I was talking to another volunteer, Ryan, about previous new years and we came up with the hypothesis that going somewhere special for New Years is preferable to staying in the same area. This year, I can’t imagine a better place than Suriname, easily in my top three New Years. Even though, for the first time in at least 5 years, I celebrated without John Kammerzelt.

I left for Suriname on the 28^th. There’s a new ferry schedule across the Essequibo, it leaves at 6am, 11am, and 4pm. My friend and Andrew was supposed to be getting to the Peace Corps office in Georgetown about 10 so I thought I’d take the 6am ferry and get to town about the same time if everything went well. I got to the office about 9:30 and Andrew informed me that his plane, the only way out of his site, was delayed by weather. Apparently the plane had made it to the airport in Mabaruma, seen the weather, and turned around so now Andrew wouldn’t make it to town until early afternoon. Secretly, I was pleased to hear the news because it meant I could hang out at the office and use the internet.

Other volunteers passed through the office also on their way to Berbice on the east coast where we would meet up and enter Suriname. A group had just finished hiking Kaiteur Falls and they congregated at the office then dispersed. I continued to wait for Andrew, soaking in all the news and content I’d missed since my last trip into the interwebs. I didn’t want to bring my computer to Suriname so I set it to download some things and found a spot for it in the office where I’d pick it up on my way home.

Finally Andrew made it to the office and we amassed a small party, myself, Andrew, Holleigh, Mollie, Ashley and Ashley’s girlfriend from Spain who spoke very little English, Miriam. The bus park was a nightmare. As soon as we got close drivers and conductors pawed and grabbed at us trying to get us to board their bus. It was not my favorite moment. They swarmed and harassed us until we got onto a bus. It was like feeding time at the zoo, and we were the food.

After we got on a bus we waited for a solid 20 minutes for it to fill then headed for the east coast. We arrived at Matt and Kathrina’s house where most of the group had congregated for the White Elephant game. White Elephant is that game where everyone brings a gift and everyone takes turns stealing and opening gifts. Long story short, I brought three tennis balls and two decks of cards in a black plastic bag and left with a bottle of neutrophil, a nerve tonic.

Most people left to continue the party at Jackie’s house. Andrew, Kelly, Jerrell, Ashley, Miriam, Eben, Naomi, and I all stayed behind. Some of us started slinging our hammocks since we planned on sleeping outside. Normally, since the average temperature at night is in the high 70s, this wouldn't be an issue. I’ll return to this in a second.

A few days before this as I was getting ready to leave I decided I needed a net for my hammock. So I went down to the pharmacy and got one. Now, nets specifically for hammocks are a little hard to come by so I bought one for a bed, brought it home, wrapped it cocoon style around my hammock, and pronounced it good enough. I was and continue to be pretty impressed by my ingenuity and it held up perfectly in its real world application, plus, sleeping in a hammock is pretty cool.

The bus came to get us the next night at midnight. The ferry didn’t leave until 10 but it had been filling more quickly and we wanted to guarantee our spot. We got there about 4am and proceeded to wait until 10AM. Then, we remembered this is Guyana and realized we’d be lucky to leave the shore before 12. 12 comes around and we finally get on the boat for a 20 minute ride to Suriname.

As we got closer, people started to bunch near the front of the boat. We were all quizzical and I was standing on the second level so I could see the horde getting more and more anxious. When the boat landed and the ramp dropped it was pure anarchy. Masses of people rushed for the immigration building. I mean just flat out running like the ferry was on fire. Needless to say, we were all confused by this. We proceeded to disembark like normal humans in an orderly manner.

It was only as we approached the terminal we realized our mistake. Before us lay a swath of humans. A line 10 people wide, and 40 people deep had manifested in front of the building. Initially our thoughts were that this was not a big deal. Suriname customs must be way better than the Guyanese we had just come through. We were wrong. 4 hours later we had all made it through the line. But finally, we were in Suriname. Right?

Wrong, were about a 4 hour drive from Paramaribo where we were all staying. At this point, I was getting tired of the uncomfortable seats and unbearable temperature. Luckily, I had a friend who could take care of that. The bottle of Neutrophil was a godsend. Looking at the ingredients, I read that it was basically a bottle of nicotine. Recalling my psychopharmacology class, I remembered that nicotine is a mild stimulant with some muscle relaxant properties. Between me and my seat mate Lauren we had about half the bottle and sat in relative comfort until Paramaribo.

The next day, we walked around town a little bit, scoping out the place for good New Year’s spots. There was lots of music and people partying. And a plethora of cute Dutch girls. The streets were filled with people drinking and dancing. We hung around for most of the afternoon then about 2pm we headed back to the hotel, napped for a little, then headed out about 9 to party a little bit. It was at this time I really started to have fun. Andrew, Mark, Jerrell, and met up with most of the other crew at Subway, one of the many American influences on Suriname. When we got there another volunteer, Ryan, suggested we go put 20 Suriname dollars on black at the nearby Princess casino. So Andrew, Ryan and I went down to the casino. For some reason, we decided to warm up with a little blackjack. A little blackjack turned into a lot of blackjack and a lot of alcohol. But the alcohol fueled my luck, I was up $300 when we decided to call it quits about 11 or so. At that point the rest of the crew had caught up with us and here’s where things got a little hazy because of how lucky I was feeling.

Ryan had acquired some free passes to the local night club, Starz. Apparently we went there, it was close to the casino, and they said they didn’t open until 1am. Whatever, if they wanted to turn away business that’s their problem. After that, I remember being on the rooftop bar of the casino counting down to midnight. And as we reached midnight fireworks went off all over the city. Jets of streaking light soared up and exploded in the sky. It was like watching 20 fireworks shows at once. It was pretty cool. We continued to hang around the rooftop bar, meet some Dutch oil prospectors and have a few more drinks.

That about sums up the night, really. The next day we went on a dolphin site seeing tour. Saw some dolphins and then we left at midnight, again.

1/23/15

On my way back from Suriname I met up with a volunteer from another organization, Project Trust. It’s an English organization and the volunteers name is Natasha, Tash for short. As we’re getting on the ferry, I look down and realize the water is really low. I figure this must be because of the new ferry schedule. Before the New Year, the ferry changed from running every 13 hours, to accommodate the tide, to running at 6am, 11am, and 4 pm. When I heard this, I even said, “that’s not going to work with the tide”. So there we are, on the ferry, she’d never been on the ferry before and she was excited about how little it cost compared to a speedboat, almost $1000. So the ferry departs, we’re sitting outside on the side deck enjoying the jungle cruise when all of a sudden, something bad happens.

The boat starts inclining. The front starts angling up and we could hear a horrific grinding noise. Then the boat shudders, which was scary for a boat that size, and slams back down into the water. The best I could figure, the boat hit bottom, rose up as it pushed through, and came back down the other side. After wiping myself I felt fairly validated in my assessment of the ferry’s capabilities.

Now, one of the ferries is broken and there is absolutely no schedule. They have literally no idea when the boat will show up. The only way to find out is to call down to the office which wouldn’t be a bad system if they actually picked up the phone. The new schedule lasted exactly 3 weeks before one of the ferries broke down. Classic Guyana.