Sights, Sounds and Smells of G-Town

The sights, sounds and smells of Georgetown, Guyana are a seductive and thorough assault on one’s senses. There is the jungle traffic, the ghetto beauty of spectacular colonial ruins, the sweet fermented smell of overripe fruit, the pounding dance beats, blaring horns and constant construction all competing for an audience, the acrid smell of burning garbage and fresh manure, the sing song of creole speakin ‘n cussin ‘n cat callin, random shockingly large and beautiful flowers, lush overgrown tree canopied sidewalks, camera size insects and bright green parakeets, thousands of optimistic entrepreneurial vendors age 2 to 82 selling absolutely anything they can, leg breaking size holes in the road, random open ditches that may or may not be sewers, blazing hot sun with 100% humidity tempered by sudden hurricane style rain showers that soak you to the bone, and the continual semi comforting smell of deep fried fish. I think it is a fascinating place....and one with beautiful people.
But let’s talk more about the jungle traffic... The privatized and personalized taxis and mini busses communicate to the city in a complicated language of short, long, rapid, honks of their horns. I have yet to master the nuances of what or how many honks means what. It seems they honk to pass you, honk at you if you are a woman, (check) honk if you are white woman, (double check) honk for you to get out of the way, honk to see if you want a cab, honk to see if you want a minibus, honk for other cars to get out of the way, and the mysterious four to six rapid honks that perhaps are just for the fun of it. I have learned to be extremely careful crossing the street as they drive on the opposite side of the road than we do in Canada, and being a bit right/left side challenged, this makes it very hard for me to gage which way to look before crossing any intersection. They also drive extremely fast, do not stop for pedestrians or stray dogs and are all already honkin ‘n cussin ‘n cat callin so there are few specific audio clues as to if or when someone will be stopping for you. Added to this are many motorcycles with drivers of all shapes and sizes. The funniest rider I have seen was a large woman in a Guyanese power suit (more about this later) sporting the German SS style helmet they all wear here, with about 800 rolls of toilet paper strapped to the front of the motorcycle and she was looking sideways around them to drive. They also still frequently utilize horse drawn carts to transport goods, they trot along at good speed amongst all the crazy traffic, and I have even seen some cattle on the roads that apparently just wandered out from the fields into town for a good time. So there are horse and cow manure hazards to watch for as well. Bicycles of all shapes and sizes, some which also double as stores on wheels are plentiful and weave in and out of the horse drawn carts, taxis, cows, motorcycles and busses often with more than one person on the bike, carrying goods of all sorts. I’ve seen cakes, children, girlfriends, parrots, tires, gasoline, boxes, water coolers, ice blocks, bales of straw, live pheasants, fans, machetes and a chainsaw all being carried by someone on a bicycle. Note that no one wears bike shoes, bike shorts, bike gloves, helmets or spandex of any kind. So in this humid jungle traffic environment I will soon be commuting to work, doing my shopping, and trying to not get run over or have my bike stolen. But rest assured I will be wearing my derby helmet for protection...perhaps the only one in GTown.

Global Citizen?

After 2 months of speculation about whether I would go to South America or not and then another month post acceptance of caffeine and doughnut fuelled sixteen hour days that involved moving from two places, storing, selling or giving away everything I own, a roller derby championship, going to Ottawa for training , replacing myself at work, massive medical inoculations, the purchasing of a personal vitamin herbal arsenal and obsessive compulsive packing and repacking to anticipate everything that I might possibly need for a long, long time within the strict weight restriction of 25kg, I am finally headed south. In the end my bag was $100 overweight and I had to run for the plane despite getting to the airport two hours early. Security had a hey day with the massive amounts of vitamins, medications, herbal supplements, wads of cash, bags of electronics and the maximum amount of liquids, gels and roller derby stickers that a girl can take on a plane. Let’s just say I got to visit the back room and we will leave it at that. All this as I have decided to go to Guyana, South America to volunteer as a global citizen with CUSO-VSO, an international development organization. This is the fulfilment of a lifelong dream to contribute on a different level. Will I be successful? Will I make a difference? Will I help to change my planet? Will I come back changed? I know that right now sitting in the relative comfort of economy travel I have serious doubts, doubts about my abilities, about leaving everything great in my life behind, and especially about whether or not I can do something like this by myself for so long. So “welcome to the jungle” ...my jungled mind that is...aka my travel blog, which will chart my successes, failures and adventures while down south.
I just hope they at least have good coffee in Guyana.... please...!!
PS – Many thanks to all of you who have been so supportive of me in taking this epic journey..I am truly blessed to have you in my life!