'Better Homes and Garden' - Guyana Special

I have just realised I haven’t included any pictures of the accommodation I am living in so I am now rectifying that situation.

I am living in a two-bedroom apartment, with my landlord and her family living above. They are really fantastic people who are quick to deal with anything (one lock stopped working and we had the bathroom leaking through to my kitchen – all sorted). They want me to enjoy my time here so are happy for me to have friends over, drink a few beers, etc. It makes my life so much easier, especially when they are playing music, or watching videos and I can hear them. I actually find the noise level comforting and know that I don’t need to be so concerned with my own noise level. I just like the sound of people enjoying their lives! I will never begrudge anyone that (although it is hard sometimes, especially when one of the neighbours decides to accompany the sunrise with Celine Dion).

In fact I really enjoy the whole music thing here. Walking down the street I can hear what I think to be the strangest music for the setting but as I continue walking, it seems to fit the soundtrack of the life I have now. It adds to the movie quality of my time here. But I digress…

The place itself is quite interesting. It’s basically a concrete place with each room painted a different colour, as you will see in the photos. I haven’t decorated the place, for two reasons. I think there is enough colour as it is, plus I am enjoying having an uncluttered life without ‘stuff’. The other strange thing is that the internal walls don’t go all the way to the ceiling, making the place not so private but it does help with the air circulation, meaning sometimes I come home and the place actually feels slightly cool.

The bathroom is the room that makes me laugh the most. It is huge. It is hot pink. But it is the toilet that gets me, with the two internal steps up to the throne; it really is a throne! The shower is great also, with jet-propelled pressure – when the town water supply is on.

This all just adds character to the place that I really enjoy living in. Plus there are some added bonuses. My landlord’s daughter does my washing and cleans the house (first time ever I have paid someone to do this – definitely won’t be the last). They also have a clothes washing business, which means they have a lot of tanks, so when the water gets switched off to my part of town, I still have a water, if at a reduced pressure (meaning bucket showers). Others are not so lucky. And I do like the view out the front door at the field across the road. It keeps me connected to my rural roots. (My place is located in what I guess you could call a suburb of Bartica. It is a nice walk up the hilly street to get to work but that also means a walk downhill at the end of the day, usually with the sun setting over the forest at the end of the street.)

My place probably won’t be the centre-spread of ‘Better Homes and Garden’ for a reason I simply cannot fathom. So I present it to you here, so you too can be inspired…

National Volunteers

Happy World Teacher Day everyone!!!

A request has been sent out for education volunteers to post on entry on their blogs about this year’s theme: Recovering Begins with Teachers. This is an entry I have been preparing for a while, but I think suits the theme of the day. So here is my contribution.

Oh and thanks to those who text and rang me before six this morning to wish me a happy world teacher day. Clearly some eager beavers out there! The messages were truly appreciated.


National Volunteers

Recently I was involved with training of a new group of national volunteers at the Cyril Potter College of Education. Over one lunch break, I actually had the chance to talk to a couple of the students from the College who were getting organised to return to their respective schools in the new school year. This conversation left me somewhat dumbfounded.

I was astounded to learn how long it takes to become a graduate teacher here. First people are appointed into schools, with no qualification. They then sit exams to get into CPCE and do a three-year certificate. After that, there is another four years at the University of Guyana. Only then they are considered a graduate. It become very obvious, after spending seven years studying plus others working in a school, why the graduates are easily attracted to the higher wages offered in other parts of the Caribbean and beyond. The consequence of this is teacher shortages, especially in rural or remote areas.

That is where the National Volunteer program steps in. It’s very similar to the scheme I am on, only this time it is Guyanese who are placed in rural or remote schools, as volunteers. They receive three weeks training before the placement and are paid an allowance while they are away. The placement is for one year (although a number of volunteers from last year have come back to do another year). As well as helping to fill the current shortage, the hope is that some of these volunteers will go on to train as teachers (and so begins the dilemma outlined above).

I was asked to be involved in the training this year and I jumped at the opportunity to do so. It was a chance to have some influence over teaching practices, within the schools (and not just the National Volunteers but also with the teachers in the schools where they are placed).

…And what a group we had this year. They came from around the country and with different experiences of schools. The one thing they all had in common was they were keen to learn. This could be seen by the way they became greatly involved in the activities.

I ran a session on the writing process, showing them how it can be used to improve the quality of writing and how to teach it. The students used the process to write their own stories and I was absolutely delighted with the quality of the stories that I read. The good thing about this is if they find they are in schools with limited reading material, they can produce their own. I only just wished I had thought about the publication stage more, as it would have been good to have put their stories into a book and given each a copy. Next time.

I also assisted with session on reading and storytelling. The big focus of this was to show how to get students engaged with reading but also how to use the texts to develop a range of skills with very limited resources and time. Not only that, we were trying to demonstrate different teaching strategies that are student-centred. A lot of fun was had by all, especially when the water pistols came out.

I also was able to see a session, which involved some local teachers, on using and creating teaching aids. I was absolutely blown away with the quality of the aids they had produced. They were very student-centred and clearly engaging, as could be seen by the way the National Volunteers were getting into the activities.

This is the thing I am finding here in Guyana. There is what I would consider absolutely world-best practice happening here; I am being exposed to this time and time again. Teachers with a lot less resources then I have ever had and much larger classes doing the most incredible job, way beyond what I cold ever imagine doing. The other thing, once again, from talking with them I discovered was that they are facing the same issues that we face as teachers in Australia, especially in rural settings.

The trick for Guyana will be to hold on to teachers like these ones, as they are clearly where the education system here needs to be for it to be as good, if not better, than the education system they had a number of years ago (which I am constantly reminded of). This is also true of the National Volunteers as there were some truly natural operators in the group. Oh and the best thing, eight of these absolutely great operators have now come to work right here in Region 7! I couldn’t be happier!!!


I have to point out that National Volunteers and Inclusive Education are separate VSO programs (I’m a part of the Inclusive Education program). One of the best things about being a volunteer is that, sometimes, we get the opportunity to crossover into other programs, and, sometimes, people from different programs get to work together. Not only that, we also get to network and work with people from across organisations. I am really looking forward to continuing my involvement in this type of work.

The intervention program

Let me start with an obvious statement. Statistics can be misleading. I have seen from numerous sources, Guyana’s literacy rate being at 99%. However, in John Stannard’s report on improving literacy in Guyana, he stated that it was possible that as many as 60% of eleven year old students in Guyanese schools have a literacy level three years below their age. Even allowing for a margin or error, this last statistic is alarming.

Like just about everything it seems, there is a complex web of reasons for this situation. While it will not be an easy mess to untangle, steps are being taken to try to address the issue. One of these steps was the introduction of an intervention program. It ran for the first four weeks of the summer break and targeted students identified as ‘slow learners’ but not involved in any other remedial program.

Students who had been identified for the program in Grades 2, 3 and 4, were required to attend school for the morning, four times a week. They were placed in classes of around fifteen students (although attendance did vary) and participated in a program that focused mainly on reading and mathematics.

I came to be involved in the program just shortly before it started. I assisted with a workshop to prepare the teachers for the program and then I was asked to assist with the monitoring. This involved travelling around to a number of schools in the Bartica area but, unfortunately, no speedboat rides to schools on the other sides of the rivers.

This was the first time the program ran so there were a number of teething issues. Resources provided were not enough for the students and they arrived just as the program started. In fact, quite a few packages arrived while the program was running. This meant we had the always wonderful (yes that’s sarcasm) task of deciding who should get what resources (those of you who did the training with me back in Australia, will remember the task I ran which was along similar lines, although a much less gruesome scenario. That task prepared me well for this situation). Plus, the promised snacks never eventuated for this region. However, the biggest issue was how the program ended – more on that later. (I must point out, the funding for this program was approved quite late, making it a mad rush to get the program up and running – credit must be given to those who did get the resources together and out to the parts of the country that actually received them.)

The program did have a bit of a shaky start as things were sorted out. A syllabus was provided but a number of teachers expressed a concern that they were already days behind in the program (and it was only the first week). Fortunately the syllabus had included a statement saying teachers could modify the program to suit the needs of their students. Reassuring teachers that it was okay to do so and using this statement as backup, they appeared much. (The regular school program is very tight and veering from it is definitely frowned upon.)

Over the next few weeks, my role was to ‘monitor’ the work of the teachers. I had to be very careful doing this, as I was just starting in my placement and it was the first real exposure a lot of these teachers had had to me. It would shape the rest of my stay. My attitude was to be as positive as I possibly could be, especially since these teachers were giving up their holiday time to staff this program (they were being paid $30 000 GUD for the four weeks - $150 USD). I have to say, it was not hard to do that as I saw some amazing displays of teaching. I can remember having a long discussion with the other monitors about all the good things I had seen in different teachers and how that was impacting on the students. It really was ‘best practice’ at work. I made the point of saying how great it would be for teachers to observe each other. I did not expect what happened after that.

Given the classes were so small, it was decided to see if it was possible to combine some classes so some observations happened. The first two teachers to be involved were quite keen to do this. In fact, they decided to team-teach their class the very next day so the students would be familiar with the larger class. When I walked into the area where they were working, my jaw just dropped. The class had really come alive! The teachers were bouncing off each other with their jokes and supporting each other and the students through the work. They were just naturals at it. I wanted to stay in their class to observe all day. It was engaging.

The next day, these two teachers did the peer observation session and it went extremely well. I briefly sat with the teacher observing to discuss with her what she had seen and how she had found the experience. She said it was fantastic because she had never had the opportunity to do this before and it was great to see someone else operate. It also reinforced a lot of what she was doing in her own teaching. I also spoke with the teacher who presented the lesson, who was just beaming after we were able to explain all the great things she had done in the class. For both of them, it proved to be an empowering experience. For me, it was an incredibly powerful to be involved in, as all too often teachers are ridiculed and stigmatized (and that appears to be the norm around the world). It was nice to be able to counter that just a little bit. Also, these two teachers kept team teaching for the rest of the program.

We tried to set up peer observation in another school but the teachers were much more keen to do some team teaching. It was planned we would come back a couple of days later to observe these lessons. Once again, these teachers took to it like ducks to water. The class reading of a book came to life like I had never seen before. The students were literally jumping out of their seats to offer complex and well thought-out out responses to the questions the teachers were asking. Once again, the teachers were able to bounce off each other, especially when humour was involved. It was critical literacy at its best.

In discussions with a number of teachers about the four weeks, it was just about unanimous that they had enjoyed the experience and felt it had been very beneficial for the students involved. They could see good progress had been made with the students who had enjoyed coming to school during their holidays!! The teachers pointed out a number of things that had helped make the program successful, such as having smaller class sizes and flexibility in the program. It had really been great to witness it.

So why did it end so badly? Well the Minister decided that because the program was working so well, it would be extended for two weeks. It seemed this was announced without any consultation with the teachers involved. Teachers had made other plans and generally did not want to give up another two weeks, as they needed a decent break before the start of the new school year. There was the question about whether they would be paid any extra, as well. This was unfortunate as it left a sour taste in the mouths of many teachers I spoke to despite the program having been a very positive experience for them. The point was raised that would have second thoughts about being involved in the program if it was offered again, next year, which is really unfortunate. At this stage it looks like the program will run, so hopefully the lesson will be learnt from this experience and teachers will remember the positives of being involved this time around.

The ‘finer’ things in life…

Okay I am about to do an entry that I swore I would never do (oooo – I hear you say).

It’s the three-month stage and as it is also the summer break for schools, I have decided to come over to Trinidad and Tobago to have my own little break (oh and to vote in the national election back home – so nice not to have to be in Australia for the campaign, though!!). I enjoying just getting away for a little bit, having a chance to rejuvenate and then I will be ready to get back into it with guns blazing.

The surprise for me has been the things I have found here that are either not in Guyana or I don’t have access to back there, that clearly impact on my lifestyle. My reaction may be tainted due to a bug I picked up in Georgetown before I left, but I am most certainly appreciating access to these things now.

The first thing that grabbed my attention was the multi-lane highway as we drove out of the airport. Then I noticed how it felt, or rather didn’t feel, going along this wonderful piece of technology. It was smooth! We were actually driving along…smoothly. We didn’t have to watch out for animals, vehicles, potholes, people or bikes. It felt good. Suddenly, I was feasting my eyes on a massive overpass, which was clearly not that old. I marvelled at its height, shaped and its curve, as it passed over the highway. Yet that wasn’t to be the biggest thing I saw. In the distance, I could make out modern, glass skyscrapers. This was the beginning sensory overload.

Trinidad and Tobago is currently on a campaign to gain ‘developed world’ status. Financing this, I suspect, is the wealth being generated from the oil industry (Trinidad is not that far from Venezuela and shares some geological features, obviously, hence the oil). It creates interesting contrasts in the capital, Port of Spain, where a lot of construction has been taking place to ‘modernise’ (yes, this post is being brought to you by quotation marks. I’ll be using heaps) the city. Obviously not complete yet, these locations were empty, or rather, that’s how they appeared to be. Perhaps the buildings were hiding the life that existed within their walls. It was difficult to tell. This also made it difficult to determine where all the people were in the city, especially as I had heard about all the shopping centres.

Eventually I stumbled across Independence Square (basically a long divided road) and into the shopping precinct. Lots of shops were selling basically the same items (how many sneakers does one need, really?). But there was life. Was it crowded? Yes. Did I feel a bit nervous walking around? Yes. Did it feel alive? YES! So this begs the question, how do you ‘modernise’, yet keep the good parts (not necessarily saying being worried about criminal activity is a good thing, but the vibe in the shopping section, most certain is something I would like to see remain)?

For decades, many cities have struggled with the ‘donut city’ syndrome, which basically refers to the city centre emptying at the end of the working day as everyone lives in other places, leaving you with an empty hole in the city centre. Numerous cities have had big campaigns and massive projects to rejuvenate these areas (making the cost of housing in nearby locations expensive, and difficult for university students who study nearby – yep I’m biased. I’m not ashamed of it, either!), to not only make better use of these precincts but also to try to curb an urban sprawl. What you do get in Port of Spain, though, are pockets that remind me of the favelas in Brazil. Favelas are most certainly interesting places, which serve a really important purpose in these cities (usually a home for many who do the lower paying jobs), as has been finally recognised in many places. In Rio, for example, they have decided to stop the campaign to demolish these areas, but rather, to legitimise them. Time will only tell how these communities fair in the drive for ‘developed world’ status.

Port of Spain is not a city people talk a lot about. People I have met who have been there have tended to be somewhere on the scale from indifferent to hating the place. I most certainly respect their views. To me, however, there is a fascination with this city. It clearly is at a turning point, which makes it exciting to see what will happen (and possibly a more pleasant experience being an outsider). It will definitely be one of the most important cities of this region. Already you see multinational companies here with large modern buildings and offices that I have not seen in Guyana (neither companies nor buildings), so it’s importance has already been recognised by some sectors. It will be interesting to see what impact this has on the vibe.

…and so you would think my blog entry would end here. Not today!

I am currently on the island of Tobago, staying at a guesthouse, not on the beach, like the website would suggest, but in a fairly well to do area. Walking around this estate I saw some lovely double-storey houses (with lots of character – not like the estates I think of back home in Australia) set in well-established gardens (which happens quite quickly in this climate). It really is quite pleasant. The guesthouse is close to everything I need, so on that side of things, I am actually quite happy with being based here.

It’s what I found when I walked inside the guesthouse, that glued my eyes wide open. I have a room with air conditioning and hot running water, but no mosquito net (I’m really starting to hate mosquito nets. Such a pain if you need to go to the toilet in the middle of the night, and restrictive on how much of your bed you can actually use as you can’t be touching the edge of the net). I walk into the laundry and there are two fully automatic washing machines…and a dryer. Of course I set to work, washing all my clothes, which have only been hand-washed (not by me – yes I pay someone to do that) for the past three months. The clothes came out smelling so ‘laundry-powder’ fresh, and after a little while in the dryer, they were actually dry on the same day! Now, don’t get the wrong idea and think I am getting way too excited over washing clothes, well actually, yes, I am getting way too excited (not ashamed to admit that either). The thing is, I simply put them in and let the machine do it’s magic. It’s easy. It feels like I have not experienced ‘easy’ for quite some time.

I jokingly, and probably facetiously, refer to everything in Guyana being a long-term project. Not that there is necessarily anything bad about how things operate. It’s just something you simply adjust to. Things don’t always happen on the day you want. Only some of the things you want may be in stock. The person you want to see may have been called away for an emergency meeting. You just learn to roll with it. I am now quite comfortable with the idea that I will not get everything done on my list when I go to the capital Georgetown, which may cause some significant delays. I’ve learnt to prioritise differently but also give consideration to the number of jobs I am trying to juggle at once. I feel I am doing a lot of the ‘hurry up and waiting’. That’s okay. I’ve learnt to take some reading material, whether for work or pleasure, so I can make use of that time, or just to use it as a chance to chill a bit. I’m a changed man, who has been forced to have more balance in his life, and definitely very grateful for it. It’s only now as I get the washed clothes out of the automatic washing machine that I realise how much I have changed without the use of all the mod cons, and adjusted to the life I now live in Guyana. It’s been nice to have them but I can live without them, for a while anyway. All I would use the time saved for is more work anyway - so what I am saving, really?

So is that the end of this entry. NO! I haven’t even begun to write the entry I swore I would never right.

The thing is, why the contrast between Guyana and Trinidad and Tobago? Both are mineral rich countries so they should have the financial capital to ‘modernise’ (and at this point I must state I am not going to get involved in the environmental or ethical arguments surround mineral exploitation). So why is it like it is? Well the answers to those questions need to be attacked from so many angles (and at this point let me excuse the semantics of defining ‘modern’ and whether to modernise is a good thing, I’m really referring to issues at the level of health, food security, safe drinking water, literacy…).

Guyana most certainly has had an interesting past, since it became independent. Basically it became a socialist state and turned its back on the world (or was that the other way around…or both – yet to determine that). From the limited discussions I have had with people, it seemed this decision, ironically, did not benefit everyone, particularly when alleged food shortages kicked in. While this was happening, the brain drain also began (and continues today – but that’s a blog entry of it’s own – which I have no doubt I will eventually write). Since then, political parties that have been split down racial lines have dominated the political arena. Although, there is a relatively new party that is trying to bring people together (next year’s elections could prove an interesting time to be here). But it can’t all come down to good governance, can it? I suspect not. We do have quite an impenetrable interior with hills and jungle plus a climate that continually attacks any physical infrastructure in place. This means, in many areas, the only access is by boat, foot or plane, which means getting to some places can take days. The cost of transport is incredibly expensive, as well. The list of reasons, starts to get longer and more complex.

The thing is, life is not easy in Guyana when you think about it. It really is a credit to the people that they are doing as well as they are because while we are not necessarily seeing some of the trappings of a ‘western modern’ (and may I point out, not necessarily the ideal either) society, we do have some amazing things happening. It’s really not that important to compare the two countries. Both are on their own paths and I hold hope for both places. If we take Guyana, we have some absolutely incredible people who care and work really hard. Over time, more and more of these people will hopefully make their way into crucial roles (but need to think about the brain drain factor again – keeps popping its ugly head up). On top of this, it will be interesting to watch the impact of places like Norway, who are paying lots of money to protect/lock away the forests (which word to use there really depends on who you are, hence why both are there. You can choose your own adventure) and Australia, with a mining company exploiting gold and uranium reserves. It just gets more and more complicated.

Which comes back to my original decision not to write a blog entry about this. It’s just too easy to fall into the trap of oversimplifying the situation and being patronising. What’s really important is whether things are getting better. The impression you get from what you initially see of both countries is really not enough to make that judgment. You really need to delve a lot deeper. Gut feeling says ‘yes’ for both countries. In the case of Guyana, it is really great to be here just to witness that.

Okay, so that was a bit of cop-out, really, (yes I will unashamedly admit to that) and my conclusion, did end up sounding a bit oversimplified and patronising. However, writing blogs posts like this one, is not why I am here. I am here because it was thought my skills, knowledge and expertise could be beneficial to those out in Region 7. I have a job to do, so I need to get on with it. But let me enjoy these mod cons just for a few more days first.

Now I am finished!

Those fleeting moments…

It was a Wednesday evening and I had just got back from catching up with a couple of friends. I went to grab my phone to go online and find out what had been happening with my friends in other places, but particularly those back in Australia.

My phone wasn’t with my wallet on the table, where I would normally put it after emptying my pockets. I was sure I had it with me. I started to look all over the table, around the table, under table. Still no phone. I widened my search. Perhaps I had put in on the couch. No, not there. Maybe I didn’t have it and had left it locked away. Checked my bedroom, my cupboard. Started to pull everything out, up, away. Still couldn’t find it. Started to panic; where was my phone?

The evening continued and the panic continued to grow. Matters were made much worse by next-door having a party, lots of loud music and laughter. I wasn’t in the mood and that was making it worse. I started to recap the evening to work out where I had been with my phone. Yes I had had it at the bar, but from the time I got in the car until I arrived home, I could not recall having it. Did I not put it in my pocket properly? Had it fallen out of my pocket? Was it in a friend’s car or had it fallen out on the street. I wanted to know; where was my phone and more importantly, who had it?

I started to think about all the things I had on it. The numbers I had acquired, the credit available. Typically I had not backed things up and I had a feeling my Skype account was still open? I knew from friends’ experiences that if someone had my phone and if I did not know them, the chance of getting my phone back was practically zero. So I started to wonder, how do I organise to stop people from access the services on my phone when I have no phone to make that necessary phone call. As friends living nearby were out of town, I decided to walk over the hill to another friend’s house, but they were fast asleep. The thinking continued…if it was lost, how do I get myself another decent phone that will enable Internet as well as phone access? Back in Australia this would be easy to sort out but here…where do I start? And for that fleeting moment, I decided it was all just too hard and quit.

In that sort of emotional state it is not the best time to make such a decision. You can here yourself becoming irrational and spiralling further and further into it. The actual issue really is so small and manageable yet it seems to overwhelm you.

Recognising my irrationality, I decided to sleep on it. But seriously, why would a phone set off such a reaction I had not even come close to experiencing during my whole time here before. Delve into that a bit deeper and it becomes very apparent. The phone is my link, security blanket, my connection to the outside world. Through it, I can check my emails, go on to Facebook to see what people are up to and use Skype to make free or cheap calls to anyone, anywhere. It is helping me to stay in touch with my family and friends from across the planet. Without my phone, bond was suddenly severed. I was alone.

This is my third stint of living overseas for a long period of time and the ease of staying in touch with loved ones has improved dramatically. The first time was nearly twenty-five years ago. The main form of contact was by mail and collect calls to my parents only. Letters could take a month to arrive and phone calls expensive, so they tended to happen on an irregular basis. This meant I was on my own. None of my regular support network was around me, in a country where they didn’t speak English. It took time to develop new friendships where you could have those matter-of-fact deep conversations you required when dealing with an unfamiliar and sometimes confronting culture (from your own perspective, not necessarily the reality). At times, I was quite lonely.

Ten years later, and mobile phones had come into existence for my next stint overseas. This meant it was easier to contact people, but still expensive. I was still quite dependent on the mail, which could arrive in four days or four weeks. In fact, sometimes I would have a whole month’s mail would arrive at once. On one occasion I read a letter from my parents asking me what I wanted for my birthday after I opened the package containing the present from them. This meant your support network was not necessarily readily available so, once again, had to rely on your own resilience to get through the tough times. (I must point out at this point that in both these experiences, I most certainly did develop strong friendships and relationships with people who have remained good friends to this day).

This brings us to today and my current experience overseas. The Internet has clearly cemented its place in our psyche. Not only can I contact friends easily and quickly, but also I actually have quite a few options in how I wish to do that. I can email friends, check out what they are up to on Facebook, chat through a range of online forums, readily share photographs, give quick updates on events happening and even make cheap if not free phone calls. This time around, I am most certainly connected with my family and friends, with very little effort. No long periods on my own, trying to deal with situations or issues. I can readily sound off with a range of friends from all over the place, to have that chat you need just to get something out of your system or to see some clarity. With today’s mobile phone technology, these many options have gained a level of portability I’ve never had before. So it was not so much losing the phone itself, but rather what it symbolised, that was creating the ‘crisis’ in my head, and without finding a quick simply way to fix that, the irrationality started to set in.

With the improvements in technology, so the experience of living far from loved ones has changed. I have certainly become more reliant on the technology for communication, whether that is via my laptop, through an Internet café, or on my phone. Fortunately for me, I have been placed where I have ready access to these options (something that was definitely a deal-maker for me when deciding to accept this position). People are most certainly more up-to-date with my adventures (although the perception is clouded by what I choose to share consciously and unconsciously – no I don’t just party all the time, PEOPLE!!!!). In some cases, technology is enabling me to be in even more contact with people then I ever was when we lived close by. I definitely have more idea of what is happening at home in the news, in particular how my football team is going (which, I always seem to become more interested when I am overseas). Not only that, I also have more ready access to resources to support my work, so no need to log heavy books or other material around with me. It has made the whole experience much easier and I’m really not experiencing any homesickness at all (sorry mum!!).

So please, do keep me informed. Upload photos, update your status, send messages via Skype or other messaging facilities, drop me an email or comment on this very blog. It actually helps me here, as I am not wondering about or missing things from home.

Oh, and it turned out the phone had fallen out of my pocket in my friend’s car, so we were reunited the very next day, much to my relief (and thank you, Asim!). I now keep a very close eye on it. Also, that fleeting moment…it was just that. I soon came to my senses. I couldn’t be happier with where I am and what I am doing, perhaps enjoying it a little too much!!

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.