Hitting the ground running

It seems I have been emphasising the social aspect of being in Guyana just a little too much. Why would I think that? Well, quite a few people have been asking me, ‘so what exactly are you doing in Guyana?’ Yes, I have been having lots of fun along the way, although I need to be careful how much time I spend with the Cuban Doctor who takes his partying seriously, but work-wise it has been pretty full on as well. During my training, they told me it is usually a bit quiet to begin with. Well, I’m still waiting for that quiet period to begin.

One of the reasons why my time here has been so busy from day one is because my arrival coincided with a Diaspora visit, in this case a Guyanese/Canadian Poet by the name of Peter Jailall. Peter has made a number of trips back to Guyana to work with schools over the years, which was clearly evident by the number of people who came up to talk with him. On this occasion, it was three of the Riverain Schools (i.e. those along the three main rivers in the area, Cuyuni, Mazaruni and Essequibo) who were to benefit: Batavia Primary School, Karrau Creek Primary School and Makouria Primary School. The team not only included Peter and myself but also three other VSO volunteers, Vern, also from Australia, Derek from the UK and Raquel from Portugal.

The program lasted three weeks and we spent almost a week with each school. For the first three days, the whole team went to the schools, while on the Friday, each school came to the Bartica Learning Resource Centre. We focussed on using the environment as a stimulus for writing. Peter used the children’s book ‘Turtle, Turtle, Watch Out’ as the basis of telling a story about a turtle visiting each school for tuning in. All the students then wrote their own version of the story. We demonstrated how to embed the writing process into your program to improve the quality of the stories. This included one-on-one conferencing. Once the turtle stories were finished, we began the process again, using the children’s experiences with animals in their local environment as the basis, some of which were incredibly funny while others were quite terrifying.

As Peter is a retired teacher, it was great to see him in action with the students. He had a great repertoire of songs, chants and poems, which he used to hook the students in immediately. His questioning technique really brought the students’ stories alive, which helped to improve the quality of the stories greatly.

The students were fantastic to work with, as they become more comfortable with us over the week and enjoyed the experience of writing freely and about their own experiences (each student will receive a copy of the book for their school, as well as multiple copies for each school, to be used as a resource. How great it is to leave behind stories written by the students for the students), and what rich experiences they have. We had numerous stories about encounters with quite dangerous animals, including snakes on boats, hunting tigers (I’m yet to work out exactly with they are referring to when they say, ‘tiger’) and feral animals in gardens.

Having been involved in a boys’ education project a few years back, I was particularly interested in the stories they told. I was strongly reminded of a point about violence in stories and how when this is discouraged, it can be to the detriment of the boys. This was very evident here as quite a number of the boys’ stories were clearly about ‘rites of passage’ and the importance of hunting, not just for survival, but also a cultural connection between the boys and the men in the communities. If we had ventured down the ‘no violence’ path, we would not only have stifled the boys (and quite a few of the girls as well), but also, missed out on some fantastic stories.

A keen aspect of the work with the students was helping them to find their own voice. It was always a bit of a struggle to begin with, as the students were quite scared of making mistakes. As they started writing, it seemed they were doing more erasing than putting pencil to paper. However, when it became clear to them that we were interested in their ideas and would not be on their cases about mistakes, the stories began to spill out rapidly. We introduced students and teachers to the idea of conferencing and how this can be used to encourage the student to take ownership of their writing and to learn about the writing process. I also took my laptop with me and teachers quickly spotted its value as a teaching and learning tool (all these schools either had, or were about to get, at least one laptop in their school).

Each school was in a spectacular location, making the environment an obvious theme for the project. For example, just to get to each school, we had to travel along the rivers by speedboat; great if the sun was shining, and a hell of an experience if it was raining.

Batavia was the furthest away, being on the edge of the rainforest. The first thing that grabbed your attention was all the boats tied up to the jetty, which is how the students used to travel to and from school (The paddles were all lined up outside the school’s main entrance). Karrau Creek, the closest of the schools, was in an Amerindian village and the significant question we were asked upon arrival was if were we missionaries. Makouria was actually in a different region (Region 3, I am based in Region 7), and involved the longest walk to get there (after getting off the boat that is). In fact, I don’t think we took the same path to the school twice, each time discovering a shorter route to the school. There were two things of note about Makouria: the first was it was a former base for the US defence force; and the second was Eddy Grant of ‘Electric Avenue’ fame, having a house on an island just opposite Makouria. It was also when returning from this school that we had the incredible experience of thousands of butterflies flying across the river. I never know they would venture so far from land.

Upon reflecting on this experience, I have to say I couldn’t have had a better way to start my time here in Guyana. Hitting the ground running was great. The project gave me the opportunity to visit schools I would otherwise have had difficulty to get to (due to high fuel costs) and to gain wonderful insights into the cultures of the students and their communities. The teachers I worked with in all schools were very welcoming and keen participants in the process, but it was the students who impressed me the most. There were so many light bulb moments and I’ll never forget how gooey you felt when you were greeted with their big smiles each time you turned up at their school. It was one of those experiences that you struggle to determine who actually gained more from it, yourself or participants. To top it all off, how can you not enjoy going to work by speedboat! Yep it was a huge way to begin this experience that required lots of time and effort, but I wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Oh, and I couldn't resist including the portrait one of the students did of me, totally unaware it was happening!

Too Dangerous!?

A friend told me about a documentary that was on television in Australia, recently, that was all about Guyana. When it came to Bartica, they didn’t venture here because they considered it to be too dangerous. Well I have been living in Bartica for about six weeks now, so let’s see what impression I have of the place.

Bartica is like many places around the world with a fascination for cows. The only difference here is that the cows are real! Yes, the animals are one of the first things that make an impression on you, especially the cows, as they roam around the town. At night you have to be very careful where you walk because you never know what you may step in. The morning after, you quite clearly see the evidence of where the cows must have been having a party the night before. I even saw a cow and a bull coming out of the outside seating area of a local store, having, well, a ‘good time’ is one way to describe it. But cows aren’t the only animals to watch out for. There are the goats, cats, donkeys and horses (but not pigs strangely enough) but it is the dogs at night you have to watch. Quite placid during the day, at night they form gangs, making sneaking home without anyone knowing next to impossible.

Then there are the cars. The volume of traffic is a recent phenomenon, I have been told, as has been the sealing of the roads. Generally things move slowly, partly thanks to the animals, but generally aren’t any real footpaths, so people walk along the edge of the road. That doesn’t stop the usual ‘young fellas’ you get anywhere, who like to speed around way too fast. At the moment, I would have to say I am losing the game of chicken as I keep getting off the road as cars approach, but slowly I am gaining more confidence to try to stay on.

And so we move on to the nightlife. At this stage, I have not been able to determine whether there are more places of worship of the religious sense, or places of worship of the ‘looking for a good time’ sense. Up along Third Street, which I have also heard referred to as ‘Stelling Street’ as it starts at the stelling, but that could be a volunteer thing – yet to determine that fact as well (Note – Stelling is the port area – I have never heard the word before and yet to find any reference to it.), seems to have a lot of action with a number of bars pumping out music, bench seating and Banks beer – 4 or 5 for a thousand dollars. We do in fact buy our beer in bulk when we go out, which usually means you have to go a few rounds to get it all even. Going out for one beer, can quickly turn into five (which I am now calling one Bartician beer!). The matter can be further complicated by someone on the other side of the bar, shouting your whole group a round (which has also happened a number of times in Georgetown). So things can quickly spiral out of control. It’s no wonder this is known as ‘party town’. You certainly know when you have arrived in Bartica!

But not everything happens at night. Your days can also be filled with music, as people in their cars, houses, and even walking along the edge of the road can have some sort of music blaring, perhaps a little too loud with some of the distortion you can hear. When it is local styles, such as Soca or Chutney (yes that is a music style, check out VSO Raquel’s blog featuring Dan as a guest blogger http://raquelvso.blogspot.com/ for the in’s and out’s of it all), it is fine, but I am struggling with the 80s power ballads and Canada has a lot to answer for, thanks to Celine Dion! (Please don’t let her die while I am here – the tributes and constant ‘turnstiling’ would just be too much!!). And the locals just love to sing at the top of their voices. It does not seem to matter who is around, or whether you can actually sing.

Finally there is the location, where the Cuyuni flows into the Mazaruni, into the Essequibo, and the river is wide here. Looking downstream you can see islands covered in lush rainforest of in the distance. It’s the river equivalent of Thailand’s coast. In fact, despite being an hour-and-a-half from the coast, by speedboat, the major way to get here, the river is actually tidal here. If I am ever having a bit of a downer, I just need to look at an island in the river to realise that I am somewhere special.

So ‘too dangerous’? I might be naïve but I aint seeing it!!

My apologies for the delay in uploading this entry. There have been a few difficulties accessing the Internet. Anyway, it is here now...



I’ve spent the morning looking at online news sites from Australia, just to see what is making the news at home. It seems a tad tame to some of the news events here (I’ll cover that in another blog). However, one story that grabbed my attention was the ranking of Melbourne as the eighteenth most liveable city in the world (use to be number one). Actually, I read two articles about it. The first was definitely for the Sydney market, as it crowed about how Sydney slammed Melbourne in the rankings (and I was told Sydneysiders didn’t get into the Sydney-Melbourne rivalry). The other was for the Melbourne market, as it explained how good it was to be ranked eighteenth (with a small line appearing near the end of the article stating Sydney was ranked tenth). Mind you, I have been to a few cities ranked in the top five and I would not place them higher than Sydney or Melbourne. Hmmm


That’s when the notion of ‘what is the truth?’ can come into play. As people’s perceptions can vary greatly, we get presented with a ‘perceived truth’. For example, lots of people rave about Santorini; I do not. Even here in Guyana, I found some things people told me before I arrived were not what I found on the ground. It’s not that they were wrong. It’s their perceived truth. We have clearly been exposed to different things whilst here and, even when exposed to the same things, our interpretations vary, due to our backgrounds and life experiences. It’s this notion of ‘perceived truth’ that I want you to keep in mind while reading my impressions of Georgetown. Just as you would find yourself aligned yourself with either Margaret or David. (Note to non-Australians – they are a couple of iconic film critics.)


By the official population statistics, Georgetown is not that big, with only 250,000 people, although I suspect it would actually be higher. Even when you compare that to how busy the place is, you definitely get the feel of a centre much larger than it actually is. The shopping area around Regent Street from Bourda Market (where I sampled the fantastic fruits mentioned last time) right through to the Starbroek Market. Here you dodge people and stalls on the pavement, and play ‘Frogger’ to cross the roads (fortunately the traffic lights generally have the seconds counting down so you know when they will change – it helps a bit). Around the Starbroek Market, it is bedlam during the week, as it’s the major interchange for the mini-buses. Whole streets are filled with these buses as they ‘hustle’ to fill up with passengers (no timetables - when they are full, they go). These mini-buses are the major form of public transport as they travel to different parts of the city, as well as along the coast and inland. (Note – the photos I have included with this blog entry were taken on a Sunday, because I felt a bit safer taking my camera out on that day. This is why there are so few people.)


Despite its size and buzz, people are generally helpful. Taxi drivers will pounce on you but a quick, polite ‘no, thank you’ results in you being left alone. Sometimes people are even looking out for you. For example, I would walk down Main Street, where I would have some polite banter with the handicraft sellers. One day they saw a beggar approach me and shooed him away before he even had a chance. (Generally speaking, only the males get approached by beggars. The two new female volunteers were surprised when I said how often I had been approached. On some of the occasions, they had even been with me.) The moment I thought I was a goner was at Starbroek Market, when a guy threw something down in front of me and walk towards me in an aggressive manner. When he was right in front, he offered his hand and apologised for his behaviour (something in me just didn’t think this was really the case, mind you). As you move around, you most certainly are noticed. It’s kind of nice but a little bit spooky as well, especially when they can tell you different places they have seen you during the day. But, hey, I kind of stick out a bit.

Night time does present a few issues so most travel is done in a taxi. You start to form a bit of a relationship with a couple of companies. One of my greatest achievements thus far, has been to explain to a taxi company where I wanted to be picked up in one attempt. They are struggling with my accent a bit so I have to work on slowing down and speaking a bit clearer. I also need to learn more Creolese, fast!

There are definitely areas where you don’t go in Georgetown (some day as well as night). This has not stopped me from going out and enjoying the nightlife. Besides catching up with people at various social gathering (there seems to be quite a few of these), I’ve been to a film festival, play pool, hit a nightclub and a couple of bars (one called OMG – that’s Oh My Gosh because to say ‘God’ would be blasphemy, we were promptly told) but the highlight was definitely a jazz night at the Sidewalk Café. This has quickly developed into my favourite venue in town. Very cool jazz with a Brazilian influence. I could have listened to the singer’s smooth voice all night. Oh and by the way, the bar across from the Rima Guesthouse, where I was staying, closed down. Clearly the Karaoke was too loud!! (Or possibly bills not played – not sure which).


As a lot of meals were provided at the Guesthouse or at the VSO Office (from a Restaurant called the Claypot, which we were told does an amazing Ginger Beef – something lost on all us newies since we were all vegetarian), I haven’t really sampled a great deal of the food on offer elsewhere in Georgetown. That said, what was provided at VSO and Rima was sensational. I can’t believe the amount of food I have eaten (portions are large), yet my clothes are already starting to feel loose. Therefore, I think I am in food heaven!! I’ve been told of a range of places to try (which tend not to be open in the evening) so there will be plenty of eating out to be done when I get back to Georgetown. A couple of faves so far, are Steppers, a vegetarian Rastafarian place and the Oasis Café, the place to have an Italian-style coffee. Okay I am a little conflicted with Oasis. The first time I walked in I wondered what I was doing there as it was just like places at home. However, I have found myself there a few times to have a double espresso (no soy milk on the menu). It’s air conditioned and there is a free wifi connection. Conflict over!

The biggest surprise for me was the shopping in Georgetown. Just about everything you could want is there (so I didn’t have to bring that Teflon coated wok!). Not that I bought anything. I just scoured the supermarkets to see what they had and making mental notes of where I may find particular items (which I have since discovered was a handy thing to do). The store that amazed me the most was Giftland, which even had the kitchen sink jam-packed into three floors. However, I suggest avoiding the place on a Saturday afternoon, especially if it is hot. Just too busy! And fresh fruit and vegetables that taste like I remember as a child, can simply be purchased at one of the markets. The surprise here, though, is the price you see is the price you get. No haggling done here.


During the day, I did try to explore Georgetown as much as I could on foot. I explored the seawall (first sight of the sea here and I can see why you don’t swim at the beach in Georgetown – refer to the photos), a place where people lime (chill or loiter). I also checked out a couple of parks, National Park, where people play sport and do fitness things, and the Botanical Gardens.

‘Going for a walk!’ with accompanying hand motions was yelled out at me as I was walking along.

‘Yes I am!’ I replied. I had been told about the obvious statements. However, with the humidity I found I was a walking sweat machine. Not my most glamorous look. On a different occasion, that caused a group of girls to shout out the obvious ‘belly sweat…white man belly sweat’. Yep, I just put it down as one of those ‘just embrace it’ moments. I have truly embraced this city and in the words of Jane, another volunteer, ‘I LOVE it!’ That’s my perceived truth.

The journey begins...

Greetings from Guyana, as I write my first blog entry. I was actually going to go shopping but the breeze has just picked up, blowing everything around my room meaning a torrential downpour is imminent. We were hit by a torrential downpour, yesterday, as we drove in from the airport. The surprise wasn’t how quickly and heavy it set in, but rather, how quickly and suddenly it stopped.

So it is Day 2 and I feel a bit more awake after 15 hours sleep. It was a long trip over from Australia with three flights, Melbourne to LA, LA to New York and then finally New York to Georgetown. There was another volunteer on the flights plus another couple of friends ‘just happened’ to be on the flight from Melbourne to LA; not that we got to talk that much as the aisle was not wide on the plane and I kept blocking it, to the frustration of the crew.

The trip over resulted in a movie marathon (seven movies) and only about two-and-a-half hours sleep. Yesterday, I tried to stay awake until the evening but by four, I crashed, was woken up at six in the evening, ate something, and then crashed again. Initially I woke up again at midnight, much to my frustration but was soon back asleep. At four-thirty I was woken up again to the sound of what I thought was construction at the site next door to my room, but it turned out only to be a pile of wood falling, much to my relief. From then on, I slept through. It was nice to be able to be flat and stretch out again.

The highlight of the trip was definitely the stop in New York. We had about six hours to kill, so my friend, Chris, came out to the airport. After checking in for the next flight, we made our way into town.

So a quick tour of New York was on the cards: dinner at a vegan Korean restaurant (never thought I would put those words together), seeing the Empire State, Chrysler Building, a walk through Grand Central Station, along Broadway and down to Times Square. We even got to see a real crime scene, which they were sealing off with genuine yellow police tape. You get it all in New York. After saying our good-byes to Chris and Walt (her husband) we made our way back to the airport but got stuck in a traffic jam, so a half-hour trip took about eighty minutes. We were entertained by a series of advertisements, comedy sketches and news items in the cab (a screen in the back for passengers) but it was on a short cycle. We quickly new all the answers to the jeopardy questions and the comedy sketch, wasn’t so funny, the seventh time!

Okay, so back to Guyana - what is my first impression? It is very, very good. Yes it is hot, but there is generally a breeze, which keeps you cool. You just need to remember to move at a slower pace. There is a lot less rubbish around then I was expecting as well. Interesting architecture in Georgetown, where I will be based for the next week as I complete my in-country orientation. There are lots of wooden buildings about three stories high (we are staying a couple of blocks away from the very impressive, wooden St George’s Cathedral, the usual shot you see when reference is made to Guyana, especially Georgetown) and beautifully lined streets with tall flowering trees and the footpath down the centre. This is referred to as a garden city after all. ‘And the food’ you may be asking? It’s sensational. Yesterday, we had this chickpea dish that had so much flavour and we sampled some fruits we had never had before (local cherries – used for juice with lots of sugar added – sugar is essential, it’s very sour – and a mammy fruit - it was very, very, VERY good). Being vegetarian will not be very hard, although I am surprised to find soy milk from South Africa. So all up, I am extremely happy to be here.

Well the rain seems to have died down, so it is time to do a bit more exploring…