A Morning Jog in the Park

I wake up to the rooster’s crow; it is just before five am and still dark outside. As soon as the roosters start it is open season for all the birds, lizards, monkeys and dogs in the neighborhoods to join in. A cacophony of sound explodes and no alarm clock is necessary. I roll over and slide out from under the mosquito net, use my cold water bathroom facilities and get dressed in my running clothes. As I head down my block I see my neighbor loading water into a truck, and few folks out on bicycles carrying tools, baskets, food and vending carts heading off to work, some recognize me and wave, other simply stare at my differentness. If I am lucky when I get to the end of my block I will see the goat herder bringing down his flock of at least 200 goats and kids, right down the middle of the four lane road that is usually snarled with traffic. They are a spectacle of bleating happy animals all bumping and grinding into each other some still hopefully try to mount the other as they are gently herded with what appears to be nothing more than a swatch of branches by a teen herder who looks very confident in his massive gumboots. This early in the morning the roads are still quiet enough for livestock to pass and the opportunity to move the herds to grazing grounds for the day is taken. The air is cool, sweet and it feels like running in a hot house, breathing in and out a moist warm air that would be perfect for growing tomatoes in. I get up to the main intersection, turn left and start to run along the canal past the army barracks, every other day they are out doing calisthenics on the road side in their full heavy fatigues, berets, boots and weapons and look so overheated. They call out as I run by…”go whitey”…”nice legs auntie”…”faster” etc.I wave which makes them laugh and keep going. The canal is active with jumping catfish, bouncing red dragon flies and alert predatory birds. There are three different kinds of herons and beautiful red lily walkers, all fishing for breakfast while overhead the falcons swoop for the rats. The giant lotus flowers open up to the first morning light and astound me each and every time with their size and beauty, the canal is full of them. Most mornings a group of organized cycling aficionados, storm past on their way out to the long road out of town, they even have helmets and spandex on and appear to sneer smugly at me a mere runner as they fly by in perfect unison. I turn past a boarded up old dance hall and pass through the rusty once grand gates into the entrance of the national park and wave to the security guard who has just unlocked the park sharply at 530am. On my left there is an albino horse that is almost unicorn like in presence that grazes near the entrance and ignores my hellos and continues to eat with a regal stance. Whose magical looking horse is this I wonder or does he just live there free range, a magic apparition for all to enjoy. I see the few others that are out this early, up and active in the park, some doing stretches on the ancient metal rings and bars and others walking or running. I turn right and head past the soccer fields and some mornings there is already a practice going on with several people out yelling, playing loud music, eating and drinking. I keep right and head past the deserted family picnic area towards the mangrove swamps and lagoon. I pass over the wooden bridge, wind down to the lagoon and stop to feed the wild manatees. It is the half way point in my run and I am drenched in sweat. I sit by the lagoon and whistle to the manatees, most days they come to the shore with their primitive leather faces questioningly looking up at you for some fresh grass, which they then eat out of your hand as gently as being tickled by a whisker. I can tell some of them apart now as I stroke their massive gentle faces. I get a thrill to the marrow at these creatures and their peaceful presence and seeming desire for human interaction. In Guyana there is a myth that if you fall into the sea a Manatee will save you by bringing you to the surface which feels totally believable when I sit beside them. I say goodbye and welcome the beauty of the sunrise through the trees as I feel the temperature increase and watch the sky get brighter. More people are out in the park now as I pick up the pace and head towards the centre of the park. I pass people and get passed in turn, some say hello or “gad marning” some do not, I simply nod to everyone and continue to run. I round the bend and see the sprinters out at work in the middle track. The Guyana national team practices here and it is amazing to see their long lean legs blasting forward from each whistle prompt. I round the corner and run back towards the road along the inner canal beneath the beautiful overhanging shade tress that are alive with birds and insects. Sometimes there are palomino horses grazing near here and always there are parrots up in the trees welcoming the day with loud squawking shrieks. Occasionally a giant frog will eagerly cross my path on his way to the canal. The water lilies here are smaller and more like Monet’s garden, heavily laden with picture perfect white flowers that cover the entire surface of the water. As I get back to the entrance gates a few hopeful snack vendors are now vying for position as they set up with their wares of candy, juice, sweets and beer. The sun is now out in full strength and it is going to be another warm day. I run down Albert Street past the private schools and see grazing horses tied to their work carts, and several wild dogs eating food that has been kindly left out for them in old foam containers. I get back to the busy four lane street I started out at; it’s an hour later and it's now full of traffic, blaring horns and care needs to be taken to cross safely. The goats and cattle are long gone, the beautiful pink quiet of the morning is lost, the heat is back and the smells of diesel, garbage and fried food start to fill the air as I make my way back to my flat to start another day in Guyana.