Guyana, Planet Earth – cursed or blessed?

May 03, 2015 Countryman, Features / Columnists

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Countryman – Stories about life, in and out of Guyana, from a Guyanese perspective  

By Dennis Nichols
Living in a country like Guyana, it is often necessary for us as individuals to look at the proverbial bigger

picture – our place, and our space, in the midst of unimaginable cosmic vastness – in order to acknowledge and appreciate where we live, who we are, and what we have, even in this  paradoxical land of plenty, poverty, and perennial hope.
As we seethe and despair over the apparent culture of criminality bedeviling our country, ponder the outcome of the May 11th elections and bemoan the most recent scandal, Planet Earth, encrusted with continents, islands and oceans, is in a state of sporadic upheaval even as it spins unendingly on its tilted axis and, along with our solar system, hurtles through space at a mind-bending 490,000 mph. So the experts say.
Earth is but a speck of matter, practically lost amidst the trillions of celestial bodies in the known universe. But for us humans, it is our home – a vast amalgamation of natural and supernatural phenomena. And it is groaning, as are the majority of its seven billion-plus inhabitants. Global statistics show that four human beings are added to this figure every second, or about 360,000 every day. And ‘nearly two’ people die every second, or approximately 151,000 each day. So Earth’s population increases by more than 200,000 persons daily. The groans are getting louder.
I know how bad it is in Guyana – no illusions about that. But I also know how good it is to live here. And once we understand the duality of this kind of phenomenon, then we can entertain a more balanced perspective on what living here is, and can be. We can jigsaw our country into the global mural and see how snugly, how soundly, and how fortuitously we fit into the picture. Just look at two related aspects, geography and geology, and you’ll see what I mean.
Geologically-speaking, Guyana is undergirded by a massive table of Precambrian rock known as the Guiana Shield, which also supports Suriname, French Guiana, and parts of several neighbouring territories. Shields are among the oldest and most stable geological formations on earth, which may explain why countries like ours are less prone to earthquakes and volcanoes than, say, the infamous Pacific Basin’s ‘Ring of Fire’.

As far as I’m aware, Guyana has never suffered a volcanic eruption or even a moderate earthquake, at least not in our recorded history. It’s one reason why I often tell people that we live in a blessed country, although admittedly I sometimes feel like using the opposite adjective of damnation to describe our social and political woes over the past few decades.
By chance or by design, Guyana has been spared ‘real’ natural disasters. (Maybe we make up for it with man-made ones) Devastating earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, landslides, floods, hurricanes, famines, droughts, and disease epidemics have so far bypassed us. War, genocide and terrorism are acts we relate to mostly vicariously, despite the pronouncements of doom and gloom prophets. The majority of us still integrate and relate to one another as Guyanese. Interracial relationships appear to be more common now, particularly among younger Guyanese, and I for one say ‘Amen’ to that. This is the Guyana I choose to reflect on when things get unbearable.
You know, sometimes you just have to separate yourself from human mischief and immerse yourself in reflecting on the things of nature, (even her violent streak) to keep from exploding or imploding under the burden of the former. I know some will see this as an escape from reality, from materialistic pursuit and the daily struggle for survival – an impractical indulgence which they cannot afford. Not so for me. I know firsthand the afflictions of poverty, frustration and stress, but I also know the escape routes.
I ride a little red scooter, which takes me from East Ruimveldt into downtown GT, and often into heart-pounding stress and road fatigue, and I have the bruises to show for it; I mean literally. I was involved, (or rather involved myself) in three accidents over the past year, the most recent being one night two weeks ago when one of Man’s best friends crossed Mandela Avenue in front of me then had a change of heart, made an abrupt U-turn, and  cannoned into me and my bike. I lay sprawled on the street for a few seconds with traffic whizzing by, and only in retrospect realized how differently it could have turned out. I was lucky? Big up to my God and my guardian angels!
Others elsewhere are not so fortunate. During the first four months of 2015, there have been numerous disasters, natural and man-made, around the world that should give us pause, and elicit from us thoughts and prayers of gratitude. Some make the local news; others don’t. We know about the Germanwings airline disaster that killed 150 people, the migrant boat catastrophe in which 800 perished, the Nepal earthquake that has resulted in over 6,000 deaths, so far, and the apprehension gripping Chileans as a volcano spews millions of tons of ash into the atmosphere. Several other tragedies and disruptions do not make the news locally, or barely so.
Who remembers the dozens of climbers killed or missing in the Mt. Everest avalanche that accompanied the Nepal quake, or the 124 who perished in a similar tragedy in Afghanistan two months earlier? Who recalls that 16 persons were killed by Cyclone Pam which devastated the tiny South Pacific nation of Vanuatu in March with winds peaking at over 300 km/h? And thousands of children, most of them under the age of five, die every day from preventable diseases in some of the world’s poorest countries.
So I ponder these things, and in the middle of a stress fest I ride my motor cycle to the seawall, or the national park, or the botanical gardens, and for maybe half an hour, immerse myself in solitude and tranquility. Vistas of greenery, expanses of ocean and the sounds of nature do it for me. At home I turn to the internet for the kind of music and video clips that elicit similar feelings of quietude. I look at images of pastoral life in Guyana, and those that showcase the pristine allurement of our hinterland. Kaieteur and Orinduik, Roraima and Ayanganna, Wauna, Karanambu, and Iwokrama are more than exotic names and locations to me. They are portals which open up a world of elemental beauty, right here in Guyana.
When this happens, I am reacquainted with the balance of life. I also reassure myself that even though I live in a problem-plagued country like Guyana, I can divorce its human ugliness from its natural grandeur when I want to. For me it’s a life-prolonging skill.
It is something that helps me refocus on my place in the universe, and reaffirm my faith in a providence which does not stem from human effort, but embraces it. Because when you imagine Planet Earth as one spherical speck among innumerable others suspended in boundless space, then you have to feel a tug on the heartstrings which hold us together as earthbound kith and kin. Blessed or cursed, my home is Guyana, on Planet Earth, and I cherish both.

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