La Harmonie: A place where unnecessary problems bother the residents

Oct 29, 2008 News

By Rustom Seegopaul

The trail was so overgrown I could barely see it. The residents of the area masterfully guided me through the undergrowth, pointing out the right places to step; the places where the mud was the driest and hardest.
Despite their instruction, I slipped a few times and, before long, my clothes were muddy.
I could not believe that children as young as four years old traverse this path twice a day to get to and from their schools. As we were walking, I remembered my own school days, when my teachers always stressed the need to be neatly attired at all times.

Some of the residents of La Harmonie making their way to the school.

With this in mind, I asked one of the small boys walking next to me how exactly they managed to walk the trail without getting muddy. He laughed and told me that they never got as muddy as I did. No doubt, I was still quite an amateur at walking through the trail, at least when compared to the rest of the people who were escorting me.
Still, I could not believe that my young cohort could make the one-hour walk without getting his clothes (and bags) soiled and muddy, so I pressed him. “How do you do it?” I asked him.
He chuckled, seeming very much a pleasant child, and told me that usually he took his uniform with him to school in a plastic bag, and when he arrived, he dressed there.
This made paramount sense to me, and he added that the practice was done by almost all of his schoolmates. Wanting to talk, he boasted to me that the plastic bag idea had been his from the start, but the other children had seen it to be so clever that they had mimicked it.
As we walked on, we passed a cow that bellowed loudly, obviously perturbed over our somewhat noisy procession through the bushes. The undergrowth, the bushes and the bamboo trees all around us made the cow look a bit out of place, so I asked whether or not the cows were safe in the bush; if they were ever disturbed by any wild animals.

Children must walk for about an hour through thick undergrowth to reach their school.

The answer came. ‘Yes.’
Building on this, one of the women told me that while the cows were important to them and their continued survival, more important was the fact that their children walked the trail every day.
To date, she said, none of the children had ever encountered a wild animal; but she explained that, just the night before, a large cat (she described it as a jaguar) was found dead not far from our point of origin.
This much, no doubt, shocked me.
As we climbed a hillock, I saw through the tall grass the outline of a fence. We had apparently arrived at the La Harmonie Primary School. As we entered through the gate, I really could not make out the difference between the outside of the compound and the inside – both were covered with tall, dense grass.
As we got closer to the building, I saw the structure materialize — rising out of the grass with every step I took towards it. Behind it was a two-storey building which, I was told, was the old school building.
The single-storey concrete structure in front of it was the new building – the one which was now being used.
The building appeared to be in good condition, but much was left to be asked of the yard. Approximately two feet around the building, the grass had been cut and there was a beaten trail leading out of the compound, either the way we had come or in the other direction, past the old school building and to a worn jetty.

The school is almost invisible because of the tall grass.

The school was closed, as it was a public holiday (Diwali), but I was told that the Head Teacher lived next door, and I asked if I could speak with her. I heard calls being made for her, but she did not come.
Her absence caused some of my adult companions to begin to speak up.
They told me that the reason she did not come was because she knew that some of the things she was doing were wrong.
Apparently, the two water tanks which were outside of the school building were supposed to be there for the benefit of the school children, the administration and teachers of the school. However, I was told that the schoolchildren were not allowed to use that water. The contents, I was told, were for washing, drinking and other miscellaneous activities of the Head Teacher and some of the teachers.
At this point, my thoughts drifted back to my young companion with whom I had walked to the school. I saw him in my mind’s eye, after walking to school and encountering the mud and dirt from the trip, with no water to wash away the mud.
Snapping back to reality, I began to listen more intently to the other parents as they told me that the children were also charged with weeding the school yard. If the children did not cut the grass, it remained uncut, creating a breeding ground for snakes and other menace.
I was told that the children would even go as far as to bring cutlasses to school to weed a small part of the area surrounding the school.
The disturbing side of the matter is that there is apparently a man who is paid to keep the yard weeded and in an orderly condition. The man, I was told, was not in the area, but was off working in the hinterland of Guyana. Despite his absence, and the obvious neglect of his duties, the man was apparently still being paid.
While residents of the area told me that their area fell under the jurisdiction and responsibility of the Neighbourhood Democratic Council (NDC) of Vreed-en-Hoop, it seemed that help had been long promised, and apparently long forgotten.