Guest Post From My Mom pt3: David Plays Tourist in Georgetown

The national museum being closed, we strolled out of the market area toward St. George’s Anglican cathedral. It’s one of the tallest wooden churches in the world and one of the largest wooden structures in the Caribbean. Marble monuments and plaques help tell the story of colonial British Guiana, including:

• Sir James Carmichael Smyth, appointed governor in 1833
• Hubert Carlton Whitlock, who died during his voyage to England in 1876
• Dr. JRF Hutson “who practised his profession in this colony for upwards of 46 years” and died in 1863
• Peter Rose, a native of Scotland and a colonist for over 50 years, a member of the “Court of Policy” and manager of the Colonial Bank. The climate must have agreed with him, as he died in 1859 at the ripe old age of 72

What appears to be intricate white wrought iron decorates the pulpit and designates the apse. Lovely stained glass windows tower above the altar. I’d love to come back one day just to hear the organ with its many decorated pipes. Along both sides of the church, the ocean breeze blew through the open shutters, and the wooden pews were a comfortable spot to rest and cool off.

David then called a cab and we headed to the Roy Geddes Steel Pan Museum. The museum is actually part of his home, and Roy himself gave us a tour. From the gate, we walked through lush gardens containing art objects made from steel pans and depicting famous musicians. I was especially intrigued by the “egg plant:” a spiky yucca-like plant covered with egg shells!

The “pan” is the top part of a steel drum that is hung by a strap or mounted on a stand. As Roy explained, the pan is hammered into a thin concave surface, and then the notes are formed with both heat and hammer, using a tuning fork for accuracy. A short flurry of mallets produced a happy sound and smiles on our faces. Upstairs, photos and news clippings of Roy and his bands and orchestras cover every inch of wall space. Several include Roy with former president Cheddi Jagan. Mrs. Geddes put on a CD of classical music performed by a steel pan orchestra, and surprisingly, most of the musicians do not read music! Today, Roy mostly teaches and works with local schools to form steel pan bands.

On our way back, we drove past an enormous cemetery, on both sides of the road. It reminded me of the cemeteries in New Orleans, with the graves above ground.

Our next stop was the 1763 Monument, commemorating the revolt by Africans enslaved at Plantation Magdelenenburg as well as the “struggle of all Guyanese for political liberation and national development.” Known as the Cuffy statue, it is 15’ high above an 18’ plinth. Faces on the back of his head and back represent all the peoples of Guyana. Plaques around the base convey Cuffy and the revolt.

Then we headed for the Castellani House. Originally a residence for colonial government officials, it is now the home of the National Gallery of Art. We climbed a massive staircase to the special exhibit, “The Spirit of Revolution,” celebrating Guyana’s 45^th republic anniversary. The paintings and sculpture (mostly mahogany) were arranged among the rooms on the second floor. All of the windows were open, and the building is not air conditioned or temperature/humidity controlled, so I wondered how these art treasures of Guyana could be adequately preserved. Upstairs there are more pieces on display from the permanent collection, also with windows open to the sun and wind.

A short detour on our way back led us to the sea wall so I could see the ocean. I’m used to the sandy beaches along the Jersey Shore, so I was surprised by the mass of rocks at the water’s edge. I guess it makes sense as a flood barrier. The driver mentioned that on Easter, the sea wall would be crowded with families flying kites.

Back in town, we walked through what seemed like a government and diplomatic neighborhood. Unlike the massive concrete or stone edifices we see in wealthy capital cities, the Guyanese government buildings are mostly wooden and white with shutters at windows for ventilation. The prime minister’s house also has that traditional Caribbean look and is surrounded by a wide garden and lawn and ornate iron fence.

A few blocks away are the Peace Corps offices in a more modern 5-storey narrow building. This is where the country directors and program coordinators are based. One of David’s fellow volunteers, based in Timehri, was using the computers to work on his resume and fill out on-line job applications. The volunteers receive career coaching and job search support in their last few months, and they work hard to line up jobs for when their assignments are complete.

Links:

http://www.aboutguyana.com/st-georges-cathedral/

http://www.gotoguyana.org/national-monuments/1763-monument/

http://www.gotoguyana.org/people-culture/castellani-house/

How Do Guyanese Talk/Sound?

I've been asked several times how to convey how Guyanese talk; what it sounds like. I found an episode of Merundoi, a local radio program in Guyana that portrays daily life here while teaching a lesson (domestic violence, HIV/AIDS discrimination, substance abuse, etc.). It's a great example to hear how Guyanese speak Creolese and to listen to topics that come up everyday here in Guyana.

*NOTE skip to 2:30, before that is just advertisements*

Guest Post From My Mom pt2: Saturday Morning in Georgetown

Warm and humid breezes wafted from the open windows at one end of the landing through the veranda overlooking Croal Street. At the back of the hotel are typical wooden houses with shuttered windows and colorfulmetal roofs. Laundry hangs drying in the sun and sea breeze.

The canal dividing Croal Street’s two lanes is a familiar sight through Georgetown, a vestige of the Dutch, David explained, and their methods for dealing with water in a city below sea level. In the plazas and built-up areas, you also frequently step over shallow and narrow concrete ditches that drain away rainwater.

Even though late March/early April is considered the dry season, the town is green and lush with palm trees, and bougainvillea and hibiscus bloom along the avenues. With few shade trees, though, many women carry umbrellas against the hot sun. The traditional straw hand broom is used indoors and outside to sweep away the tiny leaves and petals that drop in the heat.

Across the way and down the street is one of David’s favorite “snackettes” where we bought a late breakfast. Small egg tarts for me and chester cake (similar to a dense fruit cake between two flaky pastry layers) for David. We filled our water bottles from the cooler in the hotel lobby, and David walked to the curb to hail a minibus.

The minibus is the entrepreneurial version of mass transit in Guyana. Each minibus has a route number painted on the front, so David knew which ones were headed down Croal Street to Stabroek market. About the size of a Dodge Grand Caravan and equipped with four rows of passenger seats (including foldable jump seats to take advantage of every inch), the minibus can hold 20 or more passengers, including children on laps. The driver focuses on driving. The “conductor” sits by the passenger door, soliciting riders, instructing the driver to stop or go, assigning seats, collecting money and making change from his or her fistful of Guyanese dollars. I believe the conductor’s objective is to fill each possible spot in the minibus, because we sat intimately, shoulder to shoulder.

The market at Stabroek is a bustling, noisy version of a flea market/sidewalk sale. Vegetable and fruit sellers crowd side-by-side with vendors of t-shirts, tight dresses, mosquito nets, cell phone covers, flip-flops (“slippers”), DVDs of questionable origin, fresh juice, sunglasses and more. Minibuses, cars, bicycles and people fill the uneven pavementand create gridlock with no apparent turning protocol. With Easter a week away, traditional 6-sided kites are on sale, waiting to be flown along the sea wall, and church groups sell fresh hot cross buns.

Local crafts and tourist items are concentrated in a small designated area opposite the national museum (which seems always to be closed). A connected series of wooden booths, with barely enough room for David, me and the vendor, sells tourist knickknacks (key chains, pens, etc.) and craft items like crocodile leather purses and belts, straw hand brooms, leather sandals, and woven baskets and mats. Much of Guyana is heavily forested with a wide variety of trees, so carved wooden bowls and figures are also common.

Oh, the heat. I craved something cold, but ice is rare (very American), and diet sodas are nearly non-existent. Bottled soft drinks, teas and juices are loaded with sugar, so I made do with water which rapidly lost its chill.. In the hot sun, my straw hatprotected my face; in the shade of buildings, I used it as a fan.As much as I would have wanted to stroll through these little shops, the hot stuffy air inside drove me out to the shaded sidewalk. “We’ll come back next Saturday,” David assured me.

Next installment: David plays tourist

Guest Post From My Mom: Arrival in Guyana

After about 24 hours of travel (Chicago to LaGuardia and wait, shuttle to JFK and wait, long and stormy flight to Trinidad and wait), I finally crossed the tarmac at Cheddi Jagan Airport in Guyana to wait some more in the immigration line.

"Where are you staying?"
"I don't know. With my son in a hotel in Georgetown."
"Where does he live in Guyana?"
"I don't know. It's a small village." "What will you be doing here?"
"I don't know. Following him around, I guess. He is in the Peace Corps."

At that, my interrogator gave up and passed me through. Grabbing my bag, I emerged to see David's smiling face. He still gives the best hugs!

"Are you hungry, Mom?" Surprised, I realized I was. The "dinner" on Caribbean Airlines was a distant memory. "Let's go see my sister."

The airport in Timehri is a hopping place even in the wee hours. Music blared from car speakers as we walked around the terminal building to a curry shack where David's host sister works. Dusting flour off her fingers, Sherry hugged me, the traditional Guyanese greeting, and I sat down to a big plate of rice, a bowl of chicken curry and a spoon. "Watch out for the bones," David advised. I was to learn that in Guyanese curries and stews, the chicken is chopped, bones and all, before cooking. The marrow adds flavor and nutrition, but be careful for those bits of broken bone. Sherry then brought me an "egg ball:" a traditional version of Scotch egg with starchy cassava in place of sausage and coated in orange food coloring.

Pleasantly full and fading fast, I followed David to where our driver waited. The route into Georgetown, about 25 miles north, is mostly a two-lane paved road along the Demarara River (which you cannot see at night). We passed the stadium, the Princess Hotel complex, several mandirs (Hindu temples), the El Dorado rum distillery, the Banks brewery, and other industrial and commercial buildings gradually changing to a more grid-like pattern of city streets and sidewalks.

The Status Hotel, on Croal Street in Georgetown's Stabroek section, is where David usually stays while "in town" on Peace Corps business. The night clerk greeted him familiarly and handed him our room key. David flicked on the air conditioning and ceiling fan as I washed and changed. Within minutes, I was fast asleep.

What a Long Strange Trip it's Been

Here I am sitting in the dusty boarder town of Lethem in Guyana waiting for my flight back to Georgetown. It's strange to think that my trip is finally coming to a close and it's back to work just now. 

I ended up having a really nice time in Manaus. My couchsurfing host took me to her favorite bar and I've got to be honest, this place may be one of the best bars I've been to in my life; really a place that epitomizes what's wonderful about life. It was called Bar Caldeira and it's been there since before Guyana became a country. The actual bar is a tiny corner shop with some caricatures along the walls and old black and white checker tile floor. The real "bar" is outside. They've set up maybe two dozen red plastic tables and chairs in the street. Every two hours or so a new band would setup on the sidewalk playing samba and I couldn't tell if there were multiple singers or if just different people from the crowd would come to sing Brazilian tunes. Oh and did I mention none of the musicians/singers were under the age of 60? Maybe it's just me but that really added to the charm of the place. This bar wasn't a place to go to drink/get drunk. It was a place where friends met and to listen to some great old time samba by some of the most passionate old timers in Manaus. Behind the tables and chairs was a line of vendors selling grilled meats on sticks that filled the air with a scent that might just turn a few staunch vegetarians. Having a cold beer outside had the same free feeling as in New Orleans but with less debauchery. When I think of a perfect night from now on this is the memory I'll be going to: an outdoor street party under the stars, a perfect warm night with a cool breeze, an endless supply of cold beer, cheap grilled meats, live music, old couples dancing, with a backdrop of Manaus' Teatro Amazonas (their picturesque opera house built in the rubber boom era as well). 

All in all I had a great time on my adventure; met some kind and generous people, ate some wonderful food, and saw a new part of the world making fantastic new memories. I can't wait to do it again!

My Time in Rio de Banheiro... I Mean Sailing the Amazon

I'm currently swinging in my hammock on a small boat sailing up the Amazon River. Needless to say there is no wifi here so this post will be put up in a few days time. 

Let me start out by saying I had an absolute blast in Belem (after a less than stellar experience at the airport in Cayenne where A) I have an old (though not expired) Brazilian visa so the girl at the ticket counter had a tough time believing it was real B) my passport would not scan at immigration resulting in the most painfully long and nervracking five minutes of my life trying to get the customs official and his boss to let me leave the country C) my blood sugar was super high, and the bathroom in the airport puts a back alley crack whore hangout to shame, so I had to discreetly put in a new infusion set for my insulin pump in a remote corner of the terminal. This was 40 minutes before take off so I thought I had time, but since the three other passengers already boarded the plane (at 2am) everyone was waiting on me; so much for being discreet. Then to top it off the ticket taker/security agent letting people on the plane was not only waiting for me but watching me from across the room, yelling in French to what I'm assuming was something along the lines of "hey mister, everyone has boarded the plane we're just waiting for you," watching me attach a suspicious object to my chest (my insulin pump). Then as I hurried over to the gate she began to ask me about this mystery attachment before letting me on the plane. D) everybody was speaking French. E) I do not speak French. F) in a groggy 2am mindset I realized that oddly enough on my French cheat sheet in my back pocket there was a phrase I tried to memorize figuring I'd never have to use it, "je suis diabétique;" and off i went to board the plane, still not sure if they thought I was a terrorist or not. G) I had more trouble with my visa when I landed in Brazil but thankfully after being passed off to only one other person I was let into the county) my host and his family were so nice. 

One morning when my host, Victor, was out, his dad asked if I've ever had coffee with tapioca (besides the fact that I have recently given up coffee) I said I hadn't and right there he took me out to the corner stand where an old couple made me a fresh cup of coffee and a hot piece of tapioca (it's like cassava bread, or a chewy crepe). I figured that was it and we would stroll back to the apartment. No, he took me to Museu Emílio Goeldi, a zoo in the middle of the city! I'm not the biggest fan of zoos, but it was really nice walking through this rainforrest reserve. If I didn't know that I was in the middle of a big city I would have thought I was deep in the rainforest as the whole zoo is built within a dense patch of trees; it's only when we walked to the edges that I could see tall buildings peeping through the trees. 

Other highlights in Belem included:

Victor's girlfriend taking me through the Mercado Ver-o-Peso, Belem's famous outdoor market where we ended getting açai ice cream (it is now tied with my favorite ice cream; such a rich dark berry flavor with the creaminess of olive oil, but not overly sweet at the same time, I wish I had gotten a double scoop). 

Victor taking me to the best churrascaria I've ever had. Which is kind of unfortunate now, as every other one I'll go to in the future just won't be as good. 

Walking around the old city; going to the gorgeous Teatro da Paz (a theatre built at the height of the rubber boom era) where I was able to take a tour AND sit in on the orchestra practicing! It was such a pleasure to hear live music and the beautiful venue certainly didn't hurt. Seeing both cathedrals in Belem (Catedral da Sé and Basílica de NS de Nazaré), an art museum, and Forte do Castelo with a great view of the market and the city as well as a cool museum inside highlighting a lot of indigenous life/art of the people in the area surrounding Belem. 

And maybe the highlight of them all was spending a night at Amazon Cervejaria, a microbrewery in Belem wining multiple awards for their beers at the Brazilian Beer Festival (which happens to be going on as I speak. It was a tough call to book a flight to the city where the national beer feat is, or to sail the Amazon)! I'll be honest I was expecting the beer to be OK, but beer after beer they were fantastic! Taking traditional styles and brewing them with local fruits and herbs to give them a very localized taste like their açai stout, IPA Cumaru, a lager brewed with Bacuri, or their Red Ale brewed with a ton of local herbs, I have never tasted anything like it! And of course the food; I had a variation on a local dish, pato no tucupi, which was pulled duck filled fried dumplings with a spicy manioc juice sauce. Needless to say that last night in Belem I was in heaven. 

And the next day with the help of Victor's father, I was able to make my boat for Manaus (I'm still not sure if I was scammed or what, but the less-than-official ticket salesman who took cash only ended up sending me to the "wrong docks" where there was no boat. But after some loud and seemingly angry Portuguese, the man who sold my ticket the previous day, showed up a little while later to take me to the "other docks" where a boat was waiting. 

According to his dad, "river travel is only for the adventurous," which I definitely see why now. The docks were slightly on the sketchy side, but that was to be expected, and halfway through my 5 night journey I woke up one morning to find that everyone on the boat had left. And the person sweeping the deck I was on said something in Portuguese that I'm assuming was something along the lines of, "hey aren't you going to Manaus? Well this is the end of the line for this boat, you need to take this other boat, oh wait it's pulling away from the harbor as we speak, never mind just take a taxi to the other side of town to another set of docks and look for this other boat. They're going to Manaus." And it was because of him, that I found myself clinging for dear life on the back of a motorcycle with my big-ass backpacking back pack on being taken to a mystery location that would hopefully work out in my favor. Well, needless to say, I got on, what I'm assuming is, the right boat (even smaller than the first with just two decks for hammocks and the bottom for the engines and kitchen) and am now continuing down the mighty Amazon. Oh did I mention that I've spent the last 48 hours battling a wonderful case of diarrhea? Well yes that definitely has added to the adventure like spirit that Victors dad was talking about. All in all though, this river trip has been pretty nice. I've just been in awe with the scenery as it's constantly changing. 

First off its nothing like the Amazon River Trail game I played on Windows 95, but it's still facinating none the less. Some times the river is so wide and open I can barely see the other side, sometimes it's so narrow that I doubt another boat could pass by, sometimes there are mountains and plains, sometimes thick jungle Forrest, sometimes green pastures with cows and horses roaming, and sometimes rocky cliffs that remind me of river trips in The Dells, all the while it's nice seeing remote houses dotted all along the banks. 

This trip just leaves me wondering which patch of this rainforest is being saved by my various 25¢ donations I made as a child?

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Well I'm about 2/3 of the way through my trip (but 1/3 in time) getting ready to fly out of Cayenne, French Guiana to head to Belem, Brazil and man am I having a blast. Besides the horrendous sun burn I got I've had pretty crazy luck with my experiences so far. My hosts in Kourou were absolutely the best, such a nice and welcoming couple, I had a huge smile on my face the minute I met them. They've been so helpful in planning my time in French Guiana going above and beyond what I could have dreamed a host would be like. Cooking homemade meals and sharing drinks (ti'punch a white rum cocktail with sugar/flavored syrup and lime, amazing! I'm bringing a bottle of the rum back to the states) while talking about anything. They're practicing for the TOEFL which I guess is a test to determine if they know English well enough to work in an English speaking country, so they were grateful to have me speak with them, but their English was so good we could talk about anything and did. I was sad to leave them this morning as I hitch hiked to Cayenne, but excited to see what the capital is like. 

In Kourou I was able to get on a tour of the Space Center where they are the headquarters of the European Space Agency launching satellites. They have three types of rockers they send: Vega (small payload), Soyuz (medium size), and Ariane 5 (large payload). And I was able to get to see all three launch sites. It was a fantastic tour with a nice museum at the end. Luckily for me there was a group of Canadians who already arranged a tour so I was able to join them on an English tour. 

The next day I visited the Iles du Salut, specifically Ile Royale, which was the former French prison colony famous for prisoners as Pampillon and Dreyfus. I brought my hammock, food, water, and camped on the island for the night. Which was such a relaxing experience getting to hike around the island all day and when most of the visitors left on the boat back to Kourou, I read by the waterside catching the sunset. Oh and the food I brought was just horrible: a baguette, stinky cheese, terrene of deer, fig compote, and a bottle of bordeaux. Just what the prisoners ate I'm sure. It has been raining a lot lately so if it was raining hard at night I was planning to sleep in the prison, but since the weather was nice I just slept under a shelter by the water; also horrible to fall asleep to. The following morning I awoke by the sounds of people walking about the island and I met a man (from the Holland America cruise ship docked in the harbour) who was doing geocaching so he took me along and I found the two caches on the islands. That was great as I had always wanted to try geocaching, really a lot of fun. I also met a man (also on the cruise) who's daughter was in the Peace Corps! What a strange small world! 

Right now I'm sipping a lambic on the patio overlooking the Place des Palmistes, just people watching as the sun sets. I'll head over to a next restaurant just now, then see if I can find this blues bar that supposedly has the largest supply of beer in Cayenne. That'll be a nice way to spend the next few hours as I kill time before a taxi to the airport for a midnight check in.

Rain in the Rainforest

There I was in the pouring rain with a cutlass in hand cutting away virgin bush with my guide making a fresh path within Brownsburg park to see the famed Leo and Irene vals (waterfalls). When we finally arrived scraped up and bruised from near death attacks by large animals along the way, it seemed like we had encountered the mythical El Dorado. Well in reality I was panting along a well cleared path, with a dozen other Dutch and Belgians all having a jolly good time with the guide speaking Dutch (I was the odd one out speaking only English) while I was dreaming of returning to the bus so I could get some water. But nonetheless I still had a nice time on a real "half day" tour to the interior of Suriname. 

The day before was also very nice. I began my day with some street food for breakfast, I had something that seemed like a bread pudding bar; It was delicious! Then I rented a bicycle and went to the rum factory/museum and had a small private tour of the museum (they only do a factory tour on Tuesdays) and a tasting of some rum. They were nice, but nothing to write home about, I still prefer the Guyanese El Dorado. Then after the tasting I biked out for 5 hours to the other side of the river to visit the old sugar plantation that the Distilery used to use. So in addition to a nice ride through the country side, it was a great experience seeing this particular plantation, marionburg, to see the full process of where the cane came from and to see where it went for processing and to taste the final product. A tiring but very worthwhile day. (I have however officially lost hope in sunscreen and think that it is a money making ploy to sell multiple skin products and nothing more. I don't want to hear any excuses, I had UVA/UVB protection AND I applied it multiple times throughout the day religiously. So I'm not sure why I would hav such a horrible burn? I feel like I burned more because of the cream I was using and may have been better off without it!). 

But alas I have moved on from Dutch Guiana (Suriname) and am now in French Guiana. I arrived yesterday and really had a nice relaxing time. It started pouring just as I left Parimaribo and really hasn't stopped since. My host in Saint Laurent-du-Maroni kindly picked me up at immigration after crossing the river from Suriname by speed boat (also through the pouring rain) and took me to his home. Since it was pouring all day I just relaxed and talked with him and his flatmates all day on their outdoor patio overlooking their gardens. Such a wonderful and relaxing time. 

Today I hitchhiked back to St. Laurent to walk around the town for the morning to see the Camp de la Transportation, an old penal colony in which the entire town was built around, and eating various fresh pastries as I strolled from shop to shop. 

I'm now in Kourou (actually staying at the home of the people that picked me up in st. Laurent while I wait for my couch surfing host to finish work) and tomorrow I'm hoping to visit the space center. 

Au revoir!

A Parbo in Parbo

Well why should my adventure start out without a hitch? Monday morning as I awoke early to head to Georgetown (I was staying by another PCV for the weekend) for Mash (Mashramani), my head was pounding, I had a full body rash, fever, got super dizzy/nauseous/weak when I stood up, and as the minutes progressed my muscles began to hurt more and more (it felt like I lifted a ton of weights in the gym the night before). Now those of you who get email updates from the CDC know that those symptoms are A) pretty generic for most ailments B) also sound pretty darn close to the symptoms for dengue/malaria/chikugunya/ebola. So needless to say my mash took a different turn than planned. I ended up going to the PC office to relax and see the PCMO (peace corps medical officer). Since Monday was a holiday I had to wait until tomorrow to go get blood work taken. So that left me to drink (water) in the office and sleep, while my friends went to "mash up d place." To put this in a context closer to home, imagine you're staying in an office on Royale St. while you're friends go off to Mardi Gras on Bourbon. It was a tough decision to stay in, but I think in the long run it was the right one. As on Wednesday after pleanty of fluids and rest, I was feeling much better and began my trip out to Suriname. 

The only real highlight of the journey to Paramaribo (parbo) was getting to cut the extremely long line at customs after the ferry, saving me about 2 hours of waiting time because I was taking a Bus filled with Guyanese who had already gone through first and didn't want to wait for me. 

After about 12 hours, and a really pretty drive through the Surinamese countryside, I arrived in Parbo and met up with the person that I will be staying with. He's a fun quirky guy, originally from the Philippines  working as a nurse, who is so kind to open his abode to me (and another surfer) and helped to cook dinner that night. 

Later on we met up with a pair of brazilians, Americans, and a Dutchman, and while they had Dutch pancakes (think crepes), I shared a "djogo" of Parbo with my host (a litre bottle of beer). 

Today I explored the city by myself going to the synogogue, the market, Fort Zeelandia, walking through old colonial streets enjoying more beer and street food, and am now sitting in the shade of a benab in the Palmentuin, a densly planted park filled with royal palms, writing this post. So the next time I can get to wifi I can upload this through my phone. 

I've been in Suriname 24 hours now and I already love this trip. It's definitely washing out the bad taste in my mouth from the last time I visited. I'm looking to see if I can rent a bike and visit some old plantations across the river, take a day trip to Brownsberg (a rainforest preserve in the interior), and maybe Shabbat services at shul? We'll see what I get into...

"Donkey-well"

Going On a Trip with My Three Best Friends

Monday the 23th of February is the national holiday of Republic Day, commonly known as “Mash.” Mashramani, an Amerindian word for “celebration after hard work,” celebrates Guyana becoming a Republic and the celebrations are similar to Carnival in most countries in the region.

After a day in town watching the parades, I’ll be heading out on a trip lasting just shy of three weeks. I’ll be going to Suriname, French Guiana, and Brazil. Coming with me will be three friends that I haven’t traveled with in quite some time: Me, Myself, and I. The four of us will be doing a bit of Couchsurfing and strolling through each of the countries on a loose itinerary. I’m not sure what my internet access will be like, but if I have the chance I’ll try and post short blog posts updating where I am and what I’ve been up to. I’m getting really excited for this backpacking adventure, and can’t wait to take some great pictures and make some good stories for later.

I’ll finish my trip the day before my COS (Close Of Service) conference, also St. Patrick’s Day! This conference goes over all of the logistics involved with ending my service in Guyana, what to expect in the coming months, and transitioning home. I can’t believe my time here is drying up, it feels like I just stepped off the plane in the pouring rain.

I'll Be Back Jus Now (guest post from Kaylie)

I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that when David found out where he’d be serving for the Peace Corps just over 2 years ago, I had never even heard of Guyana, let alone plan to visit twice in two years.   

It’s weird to think that the next time we go back to visit, David’s 7 year old ‘niece’ will probably have kids of her own.  Hopefully, when we visit in 20 years or so, we’ll see a lot of development throughout the country – hopefully the tourism industry will grow and thrive so people from all over the world can come experience the beauty of the Guyanese rainforest, and maybe the trail to Kwakwani will even be paved – likely reducing the travel time to his village by at least a couple hours (I’m not putting money on that one though)!

We got to travel a good bit this time around.  David took me to Kaieteur Falls, which is arguably Guyana's most famous attraction.  The Guyanese claim that its the largest single drop waterfall in the world.   Regardless of whether or not thats actually true, it is definitely one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.  We took a small (13 passenger) plane to get from Georgetown to Kaieteur, and once I got over the fear of crashing, I actually really enjoyed the flight.  The plane flew fairly low, so much of the time we had a really nice view of the country while we were in the air.  

David and I also had the pleasure of visiting Arrowpoint - a small eco resort that is a two hour boat ride down the Demerara River from Georgetown.  It was a very intimate getaway experience.  The only people staying at the resort other than David and I was another couple and the 4 staff people there to help us with whatever we needed.  We spent our time at Arrowpoint enjoying the beautiful scenery, laying in the hammocks, kayaking, hiking, and mountain biking - we even went on a nighttime boat expedition where we saw a cayman (or, as we Americans call it, an alligator) - very cool, but a little scary!

Other than the traveling, I spent the rest of my trip in David's village hanging out with his host family.  It was a really wonderful trip and I can't wait to see whats in store 20 years from now when I visit again!

I've included a bunch of pictures from my time in Guyana – hope you enjoy!

View of Kaietur from the Plane

View of Georgetown from the plane.

    

David's Kaietur Selfie.

They call the water in the Arrowpoint area "Black Water" - supposedly the dark color is from the leeching of tannins from decaying leaves of vegetation.  Between the extremely dark black water and the stillness of the river, there is a mirror-like reflection that is absolutely gorgeous!

The view from David's veranda in Kwakwani.

Taking a stroll through the mines in Kwakwani.

Bush Pool park area in Kwakwani.