Festival of Lights

I’m sure many of you reading the title of this post, in conjunction of its timing are assuming that it’s about Channukah and how I'm going to celebrate here in Guyana. Well no. Despite Channukah starting this week, this post is actually about the other “festival of lights.”

On the weekend of November 3^rd I went back to my first host family that I spent training with, since they're Hindu, to celebrate Diwali with them. Diwali (also spelled Deepavali) is a Hindu holiday, similar in a sense to other “winter time” holidays (i.e. Channukah and Christmas). In fact when a neighbor walked by as we were cooking outside my host dad told his neighbor that “… today [Diwali] is my Christmas.” To me it seemed like a fusion of Channukah and Thanksgiving. The entire day we spent at home cooking and hanging out which really reminded me of Thanksgiving; spending all day long cooking a big dinner and spending time together waiting for the big meal. All the food was prepared inside in the kitchen and cooked outside on the fireside. One major difference between Diwali and Thanksgiving is that everything we cooked for dinner we weren’t allowed to even taste. Everything had to be prepared using only sight and smell to determine if it was seasoned correctly. Which was pretty darn impressive since we were making A LOT of food and using A LOT of seasoning in all of the dishes (imagine doing that for Thanksgiving?!). I'm still not exactly sure why this was; I was told it has something to do with the religious aspect of the holiday, something about not being allowed to be the first to eat as the first piece of all the different foods had to be sacrificed to the specific deity that the holiday focused around. We also weren’t allowed to eat until after 6pm.

This I really didn’t question too much as I assumed (similar to Judaism) that it had to do with waiting until sunset. But I decided to ask my host sister why we wait until 6pm. Why not sunset? Why not until X amount of stars in the sky? Was 6 a symbolic number in Hinduism? She shrugged her shoulders and told me that this was a question for “the old people.” Damn. There must really be a deep mystical reason for waiting until 6pm that not even my host sister knows. So I went back outside to ask my host dad why we had to wait until 6pm to eat. And to my surprise, he shrugged his shoulders and said “tradition!” which I couldn’t help but laugh. At least I got an answer.

The biggest similarity between Diwali and Channukah is the lighting of diyas, hence why Diwali is called the “festival of lights.” They’re little clay dishes filled with ghee and a cotton wick to make a small lamp. Since I had only lit candles in my channukeahs before I never really saw how an oil lamp was made (ironic since that is the original channukeah). It’s super easy; just lay the cotton wick at the bottom of the dish and take a big spoonful of ghee (or coconut oil) and place it in on top of the wick and rub the wick sticking out with the ghee/oil and light. There’s no set number of diyas that people light (unlike Channukah). Normally families lay hundreds of diyas all around their house, yards, and balcony’s and leave them lit all night long. However my host dad’s uncle died a month or so ago and in Hinduism a sign of morning is not to light diyas or do much celebrating for one year (pretty similar to Judaism) after a death in the family. So we only lit 3; one on the gate to the house, one on the balcony outside, and one on the family’s altar alongside the sacrificial plate of sweet meats to the deities.

For Diwali we can’t eat any meat, just “sweet meats” and vegetarian foods. For dinner we cooked the famed 7 curry that we eat with our hands out of a giant leaf. Each of the 7 curries is prepared separately and spiced just a little differently. The curries are: dal (split peas), catahar/”old cloth,” balanje (eggplant) and edoe, bagee (greens like spinach), pumpkin and aloo (potato), channah (chick peas), and achar (mango relish). In the leaf goes a big mound of rice and bit of each of the 7 curries to make one big serving. I started to eat each of the curries separately to taste them all, but then I looked over and saw all my host sisters had mixed all the curries and rice together and just ate everything at once. So I followed suit. It was good, really really good. And the best part about eating with my hands is that there really is no graceful way of doing it. I thought I looked like a slob making a mess shoveling food in my mouth, but when I looked around I was pretty on par with my family so I felt a lot better about my abilities. After the 7 curry came the “sweet meats” which was just what they call different desserts: parasat (something like halvah, its roasted flour with ghee and coconut milk), vermicelli (something like kugel), coconut stuffed empanada like things, mini doughnut bites, and this type of cookie made by just mixing condensed milk with powdered milk. We made plenty of food to share out to neighbors who would come by to try the sweet meats and the “VIP neighbors” and friends would also get a leaf stuffed with 7 curry. The leaf makes it really easy to transport; a container and plate all-in-one.

Then after we ate plenty of 7 curry and a few sweet meats me and my host sisters, dressed in their sari’s, walked around the community to go look at the other houses to show me what it looks like when people lay out hundreds of diyas. It’s really a pretty sight to see all these small oil lamps laid out everywhere giving a warm glow to the entire home. Although I’m not too sure how people walk around their yards without knocking any diyas over as they're all about a foot apart from one another. Throughout the neighborhood people were playing with sparklers and lighting off fireworks and firecrackers. I’m sure there’s some religious reason as to why everyone lights off fireworks, but I didn’t ask about that; only if I could set off a big one.

It was really nice to spend time with this family again and a blast to celebrate Diwali with them. I’m really excited to do it again next year, if anything to have some more 7 curry!

And for the rest of you, enjoy your “festival of lights,” happy Channukah!

A Diya

The leaf used as a plate for 7 curry

My host sister and me in their saris

7 curry: (clockwise from "12") catahar/”old cloth,”   bagee, balanje and edoe, mango achar, pumpkin and aloo, and chana; dal is underneath everything

Eating with our hands

The "sweet meats"

All the curries

Lighting sparklers

Less Rice, More Stew!

Alright I know it’s been a bit since my last post, another one is currently in the works. But I couldn’t help but quickly share about what happened this morning.

Last night I found out that there was going to be a walk this morning for diabetes awareness. Since I had no plans why not get up and go? So at 5:45am this morning I left my house to walk to the meeting spot for the walk. Mind you, I had little to no expectations for this event; I figured it'd just be interesting to see what happens. At 6am when I reached the meeting spot I was one of three or four other people there. But that’s pretty on time. The event was supposed to start at 6am so I figured wait another hour or so and it’ll eventually start (I may be one of the only Jews in Guyana, but the entire country runs on JST). When the dozen or so people finally showed up a little after 7am, we sauntered through the center of town to the secondary school where we finished at the pavilion.

What I thought was interesting were all the differences and similarities between diabetes walks in the states and the one here today. The people that came today were wearing the same type of clothes I’d expect at a North Shore diabetes walk: everyone in spandex leggings and T shirts with the Sketchers workout sneakers. The funny part to me was that the path of our “walk” was just a quick stroll through the center of town where we pass through a dozen times a day, why the need to “dress up” and put on special shoes I’ll never know but it was still funny. I guess it was just because it was a “walk.” And where stateside walks are more slow jogs or a brisk stroll we just slowly made our way through the streets of my village shouting slogans. The mood was more like a protest rather than a “walk.” My favorite thing shouted by far was, “less rice more stew!” Imagine anyone at JDRF doing that? And I guess the other big difference is most diabetes walks stateside focus more on type 1. The focus here was type 2; since almost every diabetic in Guyana has type 2 (probably because the national food is sugar). All in all it was a fun way to start my day. I’m still shocked that there was a walk to raise awareness about diabetes, but I guess it’s a good kind of shock as the community is becoming more and more aware of the need to address diet and exercise here in Guyana.

Camp GLOW 2013

Here's a video that another PCV put together highlighting camp this year. Enjoy!

Camp G.L.O.W. Guyana - 2013! from Matthew Cusimano on Vimeo.

A Day in My Life

A day in THIS guy's life

Around 7am my alarm goes off. And by “alarm” I mean the family of birds living in the circuit breaker box above my head, start chirping. And those birds are pretty accurate, after a few more mornings of checking the time they start chirping I may not use my “real” alarm clock any more. As I lay in bed for a few minutes before I get up I hear my host sister yell, “Makayla! Get up, it’s time for school!” as she tries to get her daughter up for primary school (something I really haven’t heard before, I always got up on time to get to school as a child, my parents never had this problem with me; my two brothers on the other hand…). Since the inside walls to my home only reach up about a two feet past the height of the door all the rooms are open up top so I can easily hear what’s going on in the entire house from my room. By this time my host mom has already gotten up and cooked lunch for the day as well as prepared tea (what Guyanese call breakfast). Even before this time my host brother has been up, fed the pigs, fed the chickens, let the yard fowls out, had tea, and left for work.

My real life cuckoo clock

Tocino and Jamón

Yard fowl

90 hens a layin...

I get up and put on a pair of shorts and walk outside to the pit latrine out back passing Diamond our dog, the two twin cats that hang around the yard, and maybe a fowl or two, with the sun already shining hot on my back. Afterwards I get dressed and ready for work. Tea varies from morning to morning but today it’s a cup of plantain porridge. I mix in a spoonful of powdered milk and a tiny bit of raw Demerara sugar (absolutely the best sugar I’ve ever tasted, beats anything from Mauritius, it’s more than just sweet it has a lot of flavor; you can eat it straight like candy). I grab a hunk of cassava bread (what I envision sailors’ hard tack to be like), dunk it in the porridge, and walk out back and stand on the top step overlooking the whole garden trying to mute my smile so I can at least finish my breakfast. Other mornings it might be a cup of tea (which really means any hot drink like tea (bag), instant coffee, Milo, Ovaltine (I still hear kids screaming “more Ovaltine please!” in my head), or milk (powdered)) which I drink with cold water instead because I try and hold off sweating for at least another half hour), bake (like a savory doughnut), eggs, fried plantains, other types of porridge (plantain, barley, corn, oat, or wheat),  or fresh baked bread with a little peanut butter or homemade guava jam. Then I fill my water bottle (from my PC approved water filter), take my malaria pill (if it’s a Thursday), and pack up my lunch into a compartmental thermos to carry to work. Then it’s down the stairs passing Diamond with a quick “oh don’t you get up just for me,” and I’m off walking to work.

The view off the back porch

Diamond our "guard" dog

New house for 2 years?

It’s about a 15 minute leisurely walk in the hot Guyanese sun (most Guyanese (though it’s really women, I think it’s a gender thing) walk with an umbrella year round to give some shade from the sun and if it’s raining then they’re covered too) to the hospital, on the way saying “good morning” to everyone I pass on the road. Then a few hours at the health center (located in the hospital) of weighing babies, watching kids scream their lungs out getting a vaccine, or talking with pregnant mothers about breastfeeding. Then comes lunchtime.

So excited to make choka out of this balanje

Today I’m having rice with pumpkin stew and a piece of fried fish. Lunch is always a base of rice with other types of stews: burnt sugar chicken, balanje, fish, macaroni and cheese, liver, dal, etc. but ALWAYS with rice. Then after a little bit more at the health center I begin my walk home. I stop and gaff (creolese for chat) with other staff at the hospital as I make my way to the entrance and head home. Another 15 minute easy going walk through the market and back home, the “good morning” changing to “good afternoon,” taking my shoes off and changing into shorts as fast as I can.

The view coming home

My new hangout

I cool off and relax in the hammock or stroll through the garden/farm. Here’s a list of everything I could think of that’s here though I know I’m missing more: mangos, plantains, coconuts, 2 types of bananas (I didn’t know that there were “types” of bananas until I came to Guyana), pine (pineapples), guavas, pawpaw (papaya), cherries, five fingers (star fruit?), pumpkin, squash, cassava, 3 types of peppers (hot), callaloo, carila (bitter melon?), balanje (eggplant), ochro (okra), bora, pear (avocado), thyme, yard fowls running around, 90+ chickens (the eggs should start in December), 8 pigs, and plenty of plants around like aloe, and a bunch more that I have no idea what they are but look nice.

I'm lovin this house

The Garden

More veggies

Plantains in the backyard

Peppers!

Mmmmm coconuts

Then around 5pm I breeze out (creolese for “taking a stroll”) around town for a bit stretching my legs and relaxing my mind from the day; normally I walk for an hour or so. When I come home it’s about time to get dinner started so I help out in the kitchen with anything from chopping vegetables, stirring a pot, to rolling out dough. Tonight is chowmein with chicken. Other nights it’s sausage (hot dog) and eggs, liver, cook-up (it’s like rice and beans with coconut milk and often with a type of meat), fried rice, soup, dried food (a provision stew), bake, etc. and almost always with a cup of hot “tea.” 

One of my neighbors "breezin out"

Host niece and neighbor kids

Want this as your shower view?

Afterwards I hang out with Makayla helping with her “take away cards” (subtraction flash cards), play guitar on the front veranda (balcony), or gaff in the kitchen or on the back step with my host mom, brother, and sister until it’s time to get ready for bed. This is BY FAR my favorite time of the day. I wrap up in my towel and walk outside to the washroom (shower stall), and bucket bathe under the banana trees with the moon and stars for light. With the exception of the bucket part, I can just imagine people stateside willing to pay big bucks for this shower/view while on vacation at a remote tropical resort. By this time it’s finally cooled off outside and the water is so refreshing, definitely a great end to my day. I walk back upstairs grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth off the back step. Then I head into my room, set up my fan (which I recently bought, a great decision), and crawl underneath my mosquito net where I’ll read a book (off the kindle I got from PC) with my headlamp for light. When I either get to a good stopping point or become too tired I roll over and head off to dream land. Although there has been a surge in demon possessions recently amongst the secondary students and the exorcisms (prayer sessions as they say) are being done at the church across from my house so it’s definitely been an experience listening to the blood curling screams as I try and fall asleep. They blast gospel music from a huge speaker system to try and mask the noise, so I really end up falling asleep to a mixture of screams, people shouting prayers, and recorded gospel; it’s great. And that’s just a typical day in my life, and I LOVE IT!

PC Guyana Bulletin

Hey all, the staff at post just started a bulletin highlighting everything that is going on at PC Guyana that they'll be putting out twice a year. Thought you might like to see what we're doing as a whole over here.



DOWNLOAD IT HERE
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B-pSgYjtR2BVRzAzVkRmUjdiamc/edit?usp=sharing

Look at Another PCV's Work Here in Guyana!

Hey there,
Check out this video that another volunteer made about an organization trying to help clean up Guyana one city at a time (starting with Georgetown, because it needs it!). It’s a fun easy to watch movie that shares what it’s like in Guyana from an environmental perspective.

Guyana Shines from Matthew Cusimano on Vimeo.

What Do I Do?

Here’s a brief post, but I have internet right now so I thought some of you may like to see this. Here’s the Peace Corps “framework” that the health post here uses to help guide our projects and assignments. Thought it might be interesting to see.

Starting Up While Shutting Down

It's been about a month now since I've been back in site. Have I gotten more sleep as I've hoped to since my last blog post? Yes. But have I been busy still? Definitely! I had about a week or so in the health center working Monday through Friday. In Guyana much like the east coast, I believe (east coast family help me out with this…), school starts in September as opposed to the middle of august like I'm used to; but that's no problem. I wanted to go into the secondary school (high school) to find out if there would be any opportunities to help out with their health classes, maybe come in every once in a while to do a health talk when requested. I had been told both by my PCV colleague assigned to the primary school here in site as well as other members in the community not to go in the first day of school and instead to wait until the second week or so to go in as the first week is beyond hectic. If you think the first week of school is crazy in America, it's easily 200% more wild. The first day of school here means the first day that EVERYONE comes back to school both the students AND teachers. Students have to be registered for school, teachers have to be assigned to grades and subjects to teach, the physical school needs to be opened up, set up, cleaned up, etc. All the prep work that is done ahead of time stateside to get ready for school so "the first day of school" equates to teachers teaching and students learning on day one. That's not the case here; the learning starts weeks after the "first day of school."
I got a bit antsy waiting until the third week to stop by and introduce myself and meet the teachers who would be instructing health, so on Monday of the second week I stopped by. Classes still were not assigned to teachers and a shortage of teachers left classrooms of children unsupervised and untaught. The staff there was really friendly and welcoming when I came in, giving me a tour of the school and orienting me around and explaining how the secondary school functions. After walking around, popping my head in and out of classrooms, I spoke with the HM (Head Mistress) and asked if I could sit in on a class to observe a teacher at the school and see what class is like here.
I was quickly given a "sure one moment" and after a hushed conversation, presumably about the best class to observe, I was escorted to a classroom. As the teacher escorting me and myself walked up to the assigned classroom the entire class stood at once and greeted the teacher "good morning Sir… and welcome to class…" The teacher then explained that, "there is a new teacher at our school and I know you will show him the utmost respect. Alright take it away David" and walked out. There was no other teacher in this classroom to "observe," just 20+ high school students and myself to "teach them" for the next hour. And did I mention I wasn't told anything about what class this was or what I was supposed to teach? No curriculum; nothing.
So that was a fun introduction to the school. I just instinctively had them move all their desks, arranged in perfect rows, to one big circle (that would hopefully eat up a little bit of time). To which they looked at me like I was crazy, as if I wasn't strange enough; a bizarre white American who talks funny. After a minute of silence and dropped jaws I asked them again and when they realized I was serious, started laughing as they rearranged all their desks into a circle. Once they were settled played a basic get to know you game having everyone go around saying their name, where they were from (to find out if they were from my site or a surrounding area), and their favorite food. Pretty basic, easy for most elementary students in the states so I figured it'd translate well.
One big difference between Americans and Guyanese is speaking volume and the value in being an extravert. Whereas (generally speaking of course) Americans tend to speak up and clearly, Guyanese speak VERY softly. It's reinforced in the school system that students should speak softly even when called on through "school rules." If that wasn't bad enough, combine speaking softly with cultural conditioning to not speak directly to a person (looking away, covering ones mouth when talking, speaking into a shoulder, etc.) and just being generally shy. I was bombing big time. To this day I still think back and laugh about the answers given for "what's your favorite food?" Of the students I was able to understand, either through them or their neighbor who would sometimes repeat what they said, favorite foods consisted of fried rice or chow mein, sometimes with baked chicken. Now there are SO MANY foods, amazing delicious foods, in Guyana to choose from. None of them responded with any "Guyanese" foods (in Guyana fried rice and chow mein, though originally Chinese foods, have been integrated into Guyanese cuisine from the amount of Chinese people that have moved to Guyana over the years; think of it as pizza in America, is it really Italian or American today?).
After my hour of babysitting I went back to the HM and asked if I could OBSERVE a class with a teacher in it, making clear that I am not interested in going into a classroom by myself; I won't be able to see how these students behave in class with their own teachers if I was teaching them. The HM consented and another teacher brought me with her to observe her teach a class. At the end of the day I spoke with the HM and said I could come back on Friday as Tuesday through Thursday I was to work at the health center with the various clinics. She looked forward to my return on Friday and promised a more productive day since by Friday all the timetables would be set i.e. all the teachers would finally be assigned which grades and subjects they would be teaching. Sounded good to me. I would know who would be teaching health and when so I could observe them and know when might be times in the future I might be coming in on a Monday or Friday to help out with a particular part of a health class.
The next few days pass and Friday rolls around. When I stop by the school in the morning the HM was delighted to see me, "David I'm so glad you're here, here is your timetable!" She scheduled me to teach the health class BY MYSELF every Monday and Friday with a total of six classes, the whole concept of me coming into ASSIST existing teachers went completely over her head; unintentionally or intentionally I still haven't decided. I guess I should have seen it coming; the teacher shortage along with the overly friendly attitude all to reel me in and lock me down. I'll be honest I'm generally good at thinking on my feet but at that moment I was floored. I had not imagined that I would become a permanent teacher at the high school overnight. I'm a HEALTH volunteer after all, not an education volunteer. I told the HM that I wasn't too sure I would be able to teach for the entire year, how many times can I go over condom use, how to wash their hands, or what to look for if you have pneumonia? I just didn't have the resources to think of a curriculum that would fill up enough classes from September to July. "No problem let me get you the curriculum!"
I was not getting out of this one, she's the type of person who, in addition to selling ice, could sell a freezer to the Eskimos, and make them wonder why they have gone so long without one. So she handed me a ratty book bound by duct tape for the "Ministry of Education, Health and Family Life Education curriculum guide grade 7-9; prepared by: Caribbean Consulting Group (September 2007), adapted by: Ministry of Education Guyana (July 2011)." This "adapted" in 2011 version really meant someone with Word did a "replace all" changing Jamaica to Guyana but leaving the entire curriculum untouched; evident from passages like, "… environmental damage… into the island…" or "… tourism on Dunn River Falls/Negril/Ocho Rio…" For those of you not doing the quick Google search, Guyana is NOT an island, nor does Dunn River Falls, Negril, or Ocho Rio exist in Guyana. And as for the rest of the material, it would be half decent at best with the #1 private school in the country with an entire lesson plan consisting of "have the students research the effects of nicotine on the body" research with what!? Or "take the students on a field trip to a local recycling plant." To get to the next town takes 3-4 hours and that's not even taking into consideration that there really is no local let alone remote recycling plant; they don't exist. This is what I'm working with.
So for the past few weeks I've been spending my waking hours going through the MOE's curriculum to find the ideas that they'd like taught and finding a way to ACTUALLY teach the material, writing an entire year's worth of lesson plans to teach Health and Family Life Education (HFLE) to grades 7 and 8. It's a big task that was thrust on me, one that I definitely wasn't mentally prepared to take on in my second month of service. But you know what? I'm really liking it. I've now taught 2 lessons and they've gone pretty well, I come home at the end of the day with a smile on my face thinking, "hey, I think that I actually got through to some of those kids," it's a great feeling. I'm looking forward to going into the school instead of the dread I initially had when I was thrust into the classroom without any material to go off of. I'm hoping that this curriculum that I put together might do well and possibly help the teachers at this school, teach this often neglected subject, in the future. So though right now I'm swamped trying to put together lesson plans before I have to teach them, reading up on different activities to incorporate, all the while seeing what works and what doesn't work in the classroom here in Guyana. I'm really enjoying the work I'm doing. I'm feeling productive and needed. I can't begin to imagine what the end of this school year will look like, or what will happen at the health center or any other project I might embark on in the next twelve months, but I sure am excited for the ride. Oh and on top of all the reading and writing lesson plans, I moved in with a new host family which I'm really excited about. Tonight I'll be bathing outside under the stars and banana trees!
And while life for me has really been starting up, you all are shutting down?! If you've wondered to yourself, "Self, if the US government shuts down, how will that affect my good friend David living and working in Guyana in the Peace Corps? That's funded directly with federal funds!" Well here's the long and the short of it. Long version can be found HERE and the short version is: "Given the significant tangible and intangible costs that would be incurred in evacuating all Volunteers to their homes of record and the minimal savings in operating costs overseas that would be achieved by doing so, evacuating Volunteers and returning them to their homes of record would only be justified by a much more substantial lapse in appropriations than the agency expects. The agency has, therefore, determined that THE PEACE CORPS IS NOT REQUIRED during a lapse in appropriated funding to take any action TO EVACUATE VOLUNTEERS and return them to their homes of record." So I'll be staying right here in hot Guyana (enjoy the cold nights autumn brings) working at the health center and teaching in the secondary school!
As always feel free to post comments with any questions about things that are on your mind that you would like to know more about, I get an email with every comment straight to my phone, so I'll be able to reply just now.

I think I’ve now caught up on my sleep… maybe

Wow. Wow wow wow. You know those times when so much is going on that you don't have time to breathe, let alone blink. And when you do, 3 weeks have just passed by?
Yes? Great, you know exactly how I feel.
No? Well, you should come out to Camp Glow.
I literally feel like August just began and now I'm looking at the last few days of the month, as if I just tessered get the reference? (Channukah gift, just sayin) across three weeks. So what happened?
On a Wednesday, I made the long journey from my site out to Georgetown where I pretty much lived at the Peace Corps office from that Wednesday to Friday night getting all the last minute logistics for Camp Glow settled along with the 5 other members of GAD (Gender and Development Task Force), the other PCV's who help to organize and run the camp; we're essential the admin staff at camp. I was responsible for organizing all of the ground transportation: trucks, busses to move campers from the meeting point in town to camp, all the individual legs of everyone's (campers, counselors, CIT's, PCV's) travel from wherever they live all over Guyana to camp. Confirming that each girl was still coming to camp to finalize the list of campers (as some had to drop last minute for whatever reason). And confirming all of our guest speakers and presenters that would be coming to camp throughout the week and organizing their travel to and from camp.
Then on Saturday all the counselors and CIT's (all of whom are Guyanese) arrived at the PC office, along with other PCV's who would be at camp this week to help out (think of them as added staff, Glow would not be POSSIBLE without them). Where we packed up a truck with all of our luggage, supplies, and food for the week, boarded a bus and drove out to the camp site. Once we arrived some PCV's helped right away to start the counselor and CIT training while myself and the other GAD members helped to unload the truck and set up camp. Sunday was continued counselor and CIT training all day. Then Monday was the first day of camp!
Surprisingly, all the time I've spent at arts & crafts at all the camps I've been to I've never heard this phrase, "glitter is the herpes of art supplies." It's SO TRUE. As I sit here now writing this post I'm still finding glitter on my body, clothes, and belongings; it won't go away! To kick off camp the CIT's went wild covering everyone and everything in glitter in excitement for the campers to arrive. Once the girls got off the bus they were fair game for glitter too. It kind of reminded me of some watered down version of sorority hazing, but hey the girls were all smiling and at least seemed to like it. From that Monday to the following Monday was one camp experience I'll never forget. There were definitely highs and lows and things I could have never seen coming.
One of my highs was at a night activity called "diversity circles" watching a few Amerindian girls (Amerindians are notorious for being shy and soft spoken) speak up about their own feelings out loud to the entire group, about 100 people in the room, and then being cheered on by all the other Amerindian girls. That just blew me away to see these girls transform in just a few days to be able to stand up, literally, for how they feel and what they believe in. Jaw dropping. A low was running around trying to make camp run and missing out on too many sessions to be able to sit down and listen to more girls as they participated in each session. Something I didn't see coming? The very first day when the girls got off the buses and met their camp groups they had lunch: fresh baked pizza Guyanese style i.e. plenty of corn, carrots, borra, ketchup, and Anchor cheese. This one girl ran up to me kind of panicked,
"Sir, where is the rice?!"
"The rice? We're having pizza for lunch, we'll probably have cook-up (a rice dish) for dinner tonight."
"But where is the rice?!"
"I'm sorry there's no rice for lunch."
And she walked away with her eyes bulging with this look of horror on her face as if to say, "What the hell have I gotten myself into?" A) I wasn't in charge of meal planning B) even if I was, I still wouldn't have thought to have rice for every single meal. I guess we should have seen it coming since in Guyana "a meal without rice, no matter the size, is not a meal. It's just a snack." That was something no camp in America could have ever prepared me for; the cultural differences between Americans and Guyanese. "Camp" is still kind of a foreign concept here. Even if you never went to a single camp in the states you still know about "camp" via friends, family, or the media. Don't get me wrong, I think the vast majority of the campers and counselors had a blast and would come back if they had the chance (I'd like to think), but just the idea of staying on a schedule, eating whatever camp food is prepared, singing silly songs, and doing nighttime activities is still new. But that's ok, it's all part of Peace Corps' 2nd goal "To help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served."
Finally a week later camp ended and after the typical hugging and crying everyone scattered back all over Guyana leaving their new friends but vowing to stay in touch. It would seem that since camp was over I would be heading back to site. Oh no. Back to the office to finish wrapping up camp, doing a debrief with PC staff about how the week went along with other tasks to complete before heading back to site several days later.
Was it exhausting? Yes. Was it stressful? Definitely. Was it rewarding? Absolutely. All that and more. Despite needing a few extra days to relax and catch up on sleep, I'm really looking forward to being part of at least one, maybe two more Camp GLOWS.

Thanks for Paying Your Taxes!

So not too much has happened after moving to my site. I'm starting to get into a routine where I work Monday through Friday at the health center from about a little before 9 to a little after 2 (though the times vary day to day). Then once the sun starts to go down so it's a bit cooler, around 5 o'clock I go out for a walk around my town for an hour or so until the sun sets and its dark out. It's nice to get out and stroll at a cooler time of the day because it is SO HOT here. Not even going inside in the shade is a releif because the heat just builds up inside. So once it starts to cool off a bit (comparitavely) I'll go out.

But as for the title of this post. Many people have been asking me, well before I left for the Peace Corps, what the medical care would be like. I must say it's great. I think I have the best medical coverage now during the next two years than I ever will the rest of my life. The other week I had to go into town (Georgetown) because I chipped my tooth. PC staff in the office wanted to know how it happened, "rock in your rice?" "eating bones?" "did you fall/get injured?" No. None of the above. It's much more comical. With my first host family, being of Indian/Amerindian decent, I ate with my hands almost exclusivly, with the occasional spoon depending on the meal. But in my new host family, of African decent, I rarely eat with my hands; using a fork and sometimes a knife. Well, I guess after getting used to eating with my hands, I forgot how to eat with a fork! So one day over breakfast I ended up chipping my tooth by biting onto the fork I was using. I couldn't help but laugh at how funny it is, I've used forks most of my life, but not using them for a bit I guess I've become a bit more awkward with them. So needless to say I needed a dental appointment.

I called the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer) and had an appointment set up 5 days later. My transportation out of site into town (and back), the full cost of the appointment (at an "international/western standard" dentist), and a hotel stay (since theres no way to get to town and back in 1 day, I have to stay overnight and leave early the next day) were 100% covered with no co-pay. Even of the best insurance plans, which ones pay for transportation and hotel?! So thank you readers for paying your taxes, I really appreciate it! Without it, I might just be stuck with a chipped tooth forever. My favorite part of the entire experience was learning that waiting room smooth jazz transcends international boundaries.