COUNTRYMAN: Revelation, and a GT kind of Christmas

Dec 20, 2015 Countryman, Features / Columnists

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By Dennis Nichols
November 2006 to October 2013 was the longest I had ever been away from my homeland, living and working in The Bahamas. By the latter date, the islands’ native novelty had long worn off. Reflection and nostalgia to

re-imbed my own country’s roots waxed strong.
The 7-year itch that resulted from my marriage to Bahamian culture had to be scratched. I returned home in time for a good old Guyanese Christmas, yearning to once again experience that combination of largesse, logjam, and commercial chaos that marks our unique end-of-year celebration.
This is my third Christmas back home, and I am still doing so, hitting the road on my little red scooter, maneuvering through otherwise impenetrable traffic and the pulsing flow of humanity on Regent Street. My ride would take me all the way to the ‘bizarre bazaar’ that has grown out from Big Market and extends in every direction except on the western front.
I am thankful again for the mobile versatility of my chosen mode of transportation. But I am not shopping or doing any other kind of business. I just want to experience the ambience, the flavour, and especially the ongoing physical and spatial transformation of the city landscape.
This particular day gets rolling, for me, with a confusion of emotions after reading the compelling mélange of local and foreign news via a one-hour internet surf.  I will myself not to go down the headache path, and half-an-hour later I’m wheeling my motorcycle through the gate, bracing myself for a pleasantly nerve-shattering experience.
On Regent Street I make it to Albert Street with relative ease. But from there to the Camp Street junction, I flirt with death by misadventure. Once over that hurdle, it’s easier going for a few blocks, that is, until I get to Avenue of the Republic. I pause lengthily, then park my bike, stretch, take a deep breath, and plunge into the stream of vendors, shoppers, and possible prowlers.
Half-an-hour later, I stop. Sigh heavily! Make a conscious decision to forgo a close encounter with insanity, and return home by the scenic route. (There are a few) I cruise along to the end of Main Street and snatch a glance at The Marriott before lounging along Seawall Road, pausing to inhale the Atlantic zephyr. Then I’m on Carifesta Avenue, glancing left and right at open spaces and at the lush greenery of the National Park. Vlissengen Road is busier, but by the time I make a left into the Botanical Gardens, my soul and spirit are rested. I luxuriate in verdant solitude, simultaneously anticipating the slow North Road ride that will allow me an unobstructed view of the newly-remodeled Merriman Mall.
Ten minutes later I’m on Brickdam taking in the splendour of the Independence Arch as ‘Cuffy’ pouts broodingly over a spruced-up Square of the Revolution. The Durban Park swath stretches distantly to Mandela Avenue. I however forgo Homestretch Avenue to pass through a retouched Le Repentir where the bones of my ancestors now rest in slightly more idyllic quietude.
By the time I get back to my little nook at the sunrise end of East Ruimveldt, I feel revitalized, and more intensely aware of what some call ‘the GT vibe’. I know these feelings are transient, and I savour the moment. But my morning jaunt isn’t enough, and I’m soon back on the internet just as the seed of this week’s ‘Countryman’ episode is germinating.
Fortuitously, Facebook beckons, and a minute later I’m engrossed in a short video posted by Annette Arjoon that gives a stunning panoramic view of one of the very places I’d been taken in by earlier – Merriman Mall, as seen from a drone (I presume) languidly sailing overhead. It looks like a child’s dreamland, with fenced oblongs of playfields flanked by the desilted North Road and Church Street canals, white-socked shade trees, and adorned with benches, slides, swings, seesaws and a huge star-topped Christmas tree.
Everything looks spectacularly pristine. There are several discretely and strategically-placed litter bins. Some children and a few adults are enjoying the facilities, oblivious of the probing eye overhead. I close my eyes and briefly lose myself in reflection on my own carefree early childhood when I still looked out for Santa’s flying reindeer and gift-wrapped goodies. Our home was then (at Christmas time) a fairy-tale castle and Georgetown was a waking wonderland.
My excursion had ‘revealed’ just a small part of our capital city, an urban Cinderella emerging in gleaming garb from her decades-long slumber under blankets of garbage and clutter. One FB subscriber noted in a comment on the Merriman Mall video, that he had lived in Georgetown for 10 years and couldn’t understand why it was referred to as the Garden City. He said he returned recently and was awestruck. “Now I am a believer. GT can indeed emerge as one of the most beautiful cities in this region,” he declared.
In 2014, I had written a couple of Countryman stories bemoaning the state of the city, particularly the filthy and derelict areas around the Stabroek and Bourda Markets including the mini-bus parks and the Bourda Cemetery. What a difference a year makes!
The Stabroek Market square now boasts a cleaner and brighter environment, much-improved demarcation corridors for mini-buses, and a generally more orderly logistical flow. The removal of vegetative overgrowth and garbage from Bourda Cemetery has unearthed at least a semblance of the iconic monument it once was. And the demolition of the unsightly old Bedford School building has removed a threatening fire and collapse hazard from the area.
The Guyana I love is still far from the land of beauty and abundance many of us dream of. A veritable litany of grievances constantly pours from the lips of those who feel the burden of poverty, crime and economic strain. Some places appear to be left behind by time and progress. Murder, suicide and road carnage constitute a seemingly incorrigible scourge – one that is taking a terrible toll on those who suffer the trauma of its aftermath. And many among the general populace still appear to view our political leaders and policy-makers with suspicion. Human nature undoubtedly.
Buy hey, it’s Christmas! Why dwell on the negative aspects of life in GT (often used to include Guyana as a whole) when there is so much to be grateful for. Despite the avarice and shortsightedness of those who attempted, and even now may be trying, to undermine real progress and true prosperity, our country still breathes hope. ‘Change’ it has been said, ‘is the only constant’ in life. Maybe in death too?
Meanwhile life itself goes on. But a seismic shift in perception and in the validation of our hitherto less-than-meaningful national motto may be slowly but surely taking place. If that is indeed so, then Georgetown must be at the epicentre of this movement. And all Guyana will undoubtedly feel the uplifting aftershocks.
A Happy GT kind of Christmas to all my country people!

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