The joys of ‘sweet , sweet Guyana’

Aug 15, 2011 News

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-through the eyes of a young tourist

 

     …..grandmother, former minister comes home after many years

 

Guyana is heaven to many persons. People come here to have a good time and that is what young Jessica Rogers would like to share with us today. She looks up to this nation so much that she just had to write about her exciting trip to her grandparents’ home, which ironically, holds much history and significance to them as well.
She vacationed in Guyana on the Corentyne with her mom, uncle, grandparents and sister, all of whom came from Florida, USA.
“My days were filled with car horns beeping, cows ‘mooing’, chutney music blaring on thunderous speakers, and alluring scents of food. Standing on the veranda of the house, I look straight and I see the East Berbice-Corentyne River and the country of Suriname across that. I look to my left and I see different sized cows roaming the streets.

To my right I see the hustle and bustle of the market, where vendors are selling produce like red shrimp, sugar cake, plantain chips, and cassava bread. I close my eyes and take in the wide range of smells. First I smell fried rice and egg being cooked in front of my house at Yang’s Restaurant. Another smell wafts my way: that of katahar, pumpkin, dhal, and balaji cooking in pans. If the scent is strong enough, you can also smell fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and fries drifting in the air from the KFC down the street. I visited my mom’s family in Berbice, Guyana, South America two weeks ago and even though my body has left, my mind has not.
“As soon as I stepped off the airplane, I noticed several blue and white cop cars and dark colored trucks. My initial thought was that something was wrong, but I later found out that the President of Guyana, Bharrat Jagdeo, had arrived on the same plane. I know I will never experience that in America. So to me, that was a sign that our trip was going to be splendid. As we were driving home with my uncles, we experienced large, multicolored cows, as well as goats, sheep, several dogs, and cats wandering the streets. There is no animal control in Berbice, therefore animals roam freely. With an absence of animal control came the absence of animal care. Every single dog I came across was either malnourished or injured. I want to become a veterinarian when I am older so I will make it my goal to open a veterinary hospital in Berbice, taking inspiration from a veterinary hospital in Georgetown, Guyana. It was during the night while we were driving, so when we came upon a stopped truck full of people it wasn’t that abnormal. It was when we saw who came up to our car that my family became somewhat scared. It was a fully uniformed police officer holding a black, long rifle. The men in the truck were doing the same, except that they were in a squatting position staring us down. It definitely was a scary experience because we do not experience police with exposed arms on a daily basis in America. But apparently it is a daily occurrence in Berbice.
The next day, my family traveled to Skeldon Market behind my uncle’s house. Consequently, it was like a showroom of dead animals in the front – they lined each table. The rest of the market was like a regular flea market in America. We also traveled to New Amsterdam where my grandparents and uncle used to live for a short part of their life. It was fascinating because we were able to see their old schools and houses. Later, we journeyed to an actual village called Fyrish where another uncle lives. Fyrish had dirt roads, bushy areas, and fruit trees, while sheep meandered all along the area. Villagers traveled around on bikes and sang Muslim and Hindu chants. We visited my grandfather’s family’s burial grounds as well. It was a somber time because his entire family is buried there. But it turned into a beautiful day because my family’s background became my background.
On Sunday, we went to 63 Beach with several family and friends. Sunday everyone is off of work so we were able to spend hours with the people we love. The beach water was warm and the sand was relatively muddy but it was bearable. Palm trees lined a portion of the beach and helped spur the wind so my warm experience turned into a tropical experience, which was exciting! The only con of the beach and of the whole Berbice was the numerous piles of trash. It does not seem that there is a trash management system in that town so trash is strewn anywhere. To support that observance, I rarely spotted a trashcan during my stay.
The next day, my family traveled to Georgetown to visit buildings, homes, and streets that were around when they lived there 30 years ago. In a nutshell, my mom’s side of the family is from Guyana and she lived in Georgetown as a child so it was deeply significant that she relive memories. It became momentous for me as well because I experienced the beauty of where my family came from.
The next day when we had to leave Guyana was the most emotional. Words cannot explain what my heart felt when I gave the final goodbye to each person. It was as if Guyana transformed who I was- by staying in Berbice I realized that there is much more to living than what meets the eye. I was exposed to hardworking people who think not of themselves, but of others. Technology is not an important part of Berbician life; it does not make up who they are, it only accompanies them with their strongest needs. Furthermore, family is a significant contributing factor in the magnificence of my stay. My family helped me to see the beauty of a country that is prideful of its existence. It is the very same pride that Americans sense when we think of our military and their accomplishments with Osama Bin Laden.
The point of this trip to Guyana was to visit my family’s home country that they have not seen for 30 years. I am glad that I was a part of the reunion between a country and its people. It meant so much to my family to see their true home. As the plane was leaving, I looked out the cabin window and saw Berbice slowly passing by. That’s when I realized that no matter where you live, your native country will always be your true home.”
Rachel is longing to come back here next year. She has savoured every possible moment that we Guyanese here at home a lot of times take for granted. (Leon Suseran)

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