Last October for Thanksgiving I hung a large piece of poster paper on the wall and placed a cup of felt pens on the floor during my dinner party and asked the question of my guests “What are you thankful for?. At that time most of my guests had only been in country (as we call it in VSO) for a few weeks to months and the theme of our responses were ones of appreciation for sure, but also of survival in the new jungle home land we found ourselves in. We were thankful for ice, freezers, fans, insect repellent of all kinds, cheap drinks, mosquito nets, flashlights, talcum powder and rat poison. Things that had probably not been previously considered as useful or important to any of us, and collectively items to keep the heat, insects and huge cultural changes at bay.
I liked the poster we created that night with its funny illustrations and commentary so much that I just left it up on the wall after Thanksgiving and well I never did take it down. Over the past nine months when someone has stayed with me or visited they have often added something to the poster and last night at a birthday/going away party it was no exception. While the party was going on (which was such great fun) I noticed that the theme of what we are all thankful for had subtly changed over time from the original survival strategies to genuine appreciation and love for this country we now all call home.
My poster now states we are thankful for (in addition of course to ice, insect repellent, mosquito nets etc)
Blackouts on Starry nights
Hammock Sessions
Endless Summer
Never needing to wear a Sweater
Giant sound systems and all the great chutney, reggae and soca music
Curry and roti
Mangos and fresh fruit
Mash and Holi festivals
Rain storms
Slowing down
Our motor bikes and bicycles
Ocean breezes at night
New friends, old friends, international friends, local friends, vso friends, Canadian friends, friends at home, family at home, boyfriends, Dutch friends, Hook ups, BFF’s...(See a theme here?)
Houses on stilts,
Treks to the jungle, remote islands and giant waterfalls and
Swimming in creeks
Pink toed tarantulas, parrots, iguana and caimen
Electricity!!!
Local restaurants
"Whinin", karaoke and dancing....and so much more..
Some of the above may not make sense to those who have not lived in the wonderful Caribbean/South American culture that is Guyana. I enjoy the fact that collectively over time we have all grown to appreciate and love not just each other but also our temporarily adopted home land as reflected in our comments...Much indeed to be thankful for and today the day after my big birthday I am personally so very thankful for everyone in my life near and far and for the amazing opportunity to live and work in this unique, quirky and lovable country....Life here is not dull, not by a long shot...but you do need insect repellent baby!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Rainy Day Underwear Shopping
The second rainy season of the year (May/June) arrived this week after a few months of very nice weather. During rainy season you get whole days of rain (gasp!) and then perhaps flooding if it keeps up. When it rains hard events are cancelled, there are more mosquitoes than usual, (hard to believe as that may be) the canals fill up and smell a bit better, and the mean humidity increases. The cycling becomes perilous as whole blocks disappear under water and the side splash from cars becomes more like a water slide adventure than mere annoyance. On the first fully rainy Saturday in many months I went out for breakfast with an out of town VSO guest staying with me, then she went off to run errands and I went off to buy underwear in the rain!
After nine months and despite a replenishing in December, my underwear is thrashed, the hand washing is murder on the elastic, the sweat, Holi Phagwah dye, rusty water and small moths have all left their toll. In Guyana it is common to buy underwear on the street where it is hung up and displayed against walls on large sticks. A few of us have joked that when things are tough that next thing you know you will be buying underwear from a stick. So instead I find myself an actual lingerie store thinking that a store would at least have a change room, and not sell directly from sticks.
In any clothing store in GT the second you walk in a clerk or sometimes even two will attach themselves to you like glue. They follow you and are so close and in your face you could kiss them. If you walk away they follow, if you say you don’t need help they smile, but they do not back off. This is customer service and theft protection built into one sweet efficient unit, kind of like shampoo and conditioner in the same bottle.
Inside the lingerie store I had both an older woman and a younger woman and found out that you cannot try on the bras and they have no change rooms. Well ok you can try them on I’m told when I ask...but only overtop of all your clothes and out in the open. I agree but only as this is a step up from buying underwear from a stick on the street and I am in desperate need of a new bra. The sizes make no sense and soon we have a trial and error system enacted. I pick one, then they pick a few and we have quite different tastes it turns out and I quickly understand the protocol is that if they picked it out I have to try it on. I stand there and am fastened and squished into the bras by the expert hands of the two ladies. One commenting on how nice the bra looks regardless of the fit (and over top of my two shirts and existing bra??)...and the other asks if I am from New York (No Canada) Cold dere? (Yes) and while she plays with my hair, stroking it and twisting it and braiding and un-braiding it, she asks if she can touch it (Uh sure..aren’t you already?) and then tells me she thinks I am pretty (Uh thanks). It is very funny, almost uncomfortable, kind of sweet and weirdly intimate to be manhandled, fondled, discussed and questioned by these two women. The commentary is hilarious and constant, “Dat ones nice babes” says the older women as she gives both my breasts a squeeze upwards and into a lacy demi piece that feels like steel wool and is decidedly not “nice”.. “Sexy one babes” for a hideous day glow pink thing three sizes too small and “dat a perky one” for a Madonna style cone contraption of bright green. We finally sort of find a size that seems to work as much as I can tell by trying them on over all my clothes and sadly it comes only in a hideous plaid colour. So I am standing in the store with my arms open and a very ugly plaid bra on top of all my clothes outlining the sisters pretty well, with two women adjusting my breasts when two younger guys come into the store and ask if they are allowed in....”sure babes” answers the older woman without looking up. They don’t seem to be with any wives or girlfriends I notice after a few minutes, they just sit in the two chairs near the front..and well they just watch me get fitted, squeezed and adjusted into a few more bras over top of my clothes. The situation is so ridiculous I start laughing. They bring 15, 20 more bras for me to try..are they charging admission here??....maybe they have nothing else to do...no one else is in the store, except me, my two fondling sales attendants and my audience...OK No more I finally say, they have put on and off at least 50 bras by now and braided my hair about three times. I quickly select 4 bras from the maybe pile as clearly I'm not getting out of here without buying something. I’m not really sure if any of them will fit as how can you tell if the bra over your shirt or the one on under your shirt is the one doing the job???...It’s a lingerie lottery and Im buying four tickets. Everyone is thrilled...the young hair stroking sales girl actually claps! The older woman seems especially pleased that I selected at least one of her suggestions (the ugly but well fitting plaid one)...The men stand up, say “tanks” and leave the store as I go to pay... WTF?...Were they just here to watch the live comedy soft porn bra fitting show or was it some innocent liming in the lingerie store on a Saturday morning? Hmmm...I have no idea what that ws all about, other than it is funny!
I head out into the mini mall and in the 40 minutes I have been buying bras they have set up a mendi henna stand. I am called over and aggressively sold a tube of henna paint. They then offer to paint my hand for free as "I have white skin and the henna will look nicer”...yes he actually says this, “you get a small one for free” he smiles, and “my wife is very fast” he assures me. Sure enough within 3 seconds she has covered my whole hand in an intricate henna design, way bigger than might be appropriate for my job here I worry and am quite glad I wasn’t offered a “big one”. I thank them and now have to wait half an hour for it to dry before going back out into the rain. So I go to the pirated DVD store (Guyana has no copy write laws) This time the clerk is very young and very male, and is standing so close I can smell what he had for lunch (curry and rice) He offers his own hilarious view of each movie I select complete with a plot spoiler each time and tries hard to sell me thrillers...or as he says in beautiful Creolese “tillers”... and he calls chick flicks “girly movie”. For less than $5 I buy 6 movies he approves of and then head off to the Rasta jewellery stand. I buy a few gifts and am then offered a bracelet which was apparently made just for me....it says “one love” in pink thread on a gold and black background. “Jest for you” he says.."ya be such a nice white gayl n’all”. Of course this is a blatant sales tactic, but how can I refuse as he puts the bracelet on me and smiles revealing his glinting gold teeth. I buy the bracelet “made just for me”..Hah!
Henna hand now dry and alarmingly bright purple, if very beautiful I head out in the rain right into the throng of shark like taxi drivers waiting for blood. I select a driver and negotiate a price home as it is pouring now with serious abandon and even if it feels like a huge splurge for me taxi’s are seriously only $1.50. Inside the car he quaintly puts on the heater as at a mere 26 degrees out or so, he’s says he’s cold in the rain. For less than $20 I have purchased four dubious fitting bras, (and not from a stick), a very cool henna pen, six movies (five girly movies and one tiller), three bracelets including a special one made “just for me”, two puris, a bunch of bananas, and one huge ass piece of BBQ chicken breast that will feed two of us for dinner and I of course have my beautiful and complimentary menhdi hand to show for my efforts. A nice way to spend a rainy morning...........I love this country!
After nine months and despite a replenishing in December, my underwear is thrashed, the hand washing is murder on the elastic, the sweat, Holi Phagwah dye, rusty water and small moths have all left their toll. In Guyana it is common to buy underwear on the street where it is hung up and displayed against walls on large sticks. A few of us have joked that when things are tough that next thing you know you will be buying underwear from a stick. So instead I find myself an actual lingerie store thinking that a store would at least have a change room, and not sell directly from sticks.
In any clothing store in GT the second you walk in a clerk or sometimes even two will attach themselves to you like glue. They follow you and are so close and in your face you could kiss them. If you walk away they follow, if you say you don’t need help they smile, but they do not back off. This is customer service and theft protection built into one sweet efficient unit, kind of like shampoo and conditioner in the same bottle.
Inside the lingerie store I had both an older woman and a younger woman and found out that you cannot try on the bras and they have no change rooms. Well ok you can try them on I’m told when I ask...but only overtop of all your clothes and out in the open. I agree but only as this is a step up from buying underwear from a stick on the street and I am in desperate need of a new bra. The sizes make no sense and soon we have a trial and error system enacted. I pick one, then they pick a few and we have quite different tastes it turns out and I quickly understand the protocol is that if they picked it out I have to try it on. I stand there and am fastened and squished into the bras by the expert hands of the two ladies. One commenting on how nice the bra looks regardless of the fit (and over top of my two shirts and existing bra??)...and the other asks if I am from New York (No Canada) Cold dere? (Yes) and while she plays with my hair, stroking it and twisting it and braiding and un-braiding it, she asks if she can touch it (Uh sure..aren’t you already?) and then tells me she thinks I am pretty (Uh thanks). It is very funny, almost uncomfortable, kind of sweet and weirdly intimate to be manhandled, fondled, discussed and questioned by these two women. The commentary is hilarious and constant, “Dat ones nice babes” says the older women as she gives both my breasts a squeeze upwards and into a lacy demi piece that feels like steel wool and is decidedly not “nice”.. “Sexy one babes” for a hideous day glow pink thing three sizes too small and “dat a perky one” for a Madonna style cone contraption of bright green. We finally sort of find a size that seems to work as much as I can tell by trying them on over all my clothes and sadly it comes only in a hideous plaid colour. So I am standing in the store with my arms open and a very ugly plaid bra on top of all my clothes outlining the sisters pretty well, with two women adjusting my breasts when two younger guys come into the store and ask if they are allowed in....”sure babes” answers the older woman without looking up. They don’t seem to be with any wives or girlfriends I notice after a few minutes, they just sit in the two chairs near the front..and well they just watch me get fitted, squeezed and adjusted into a few more bras over top of my clothes. The situation is so ridiculous I start laughing. They bring 15, 20 more bras for me to try..are they charging admission here??....maybe they have nothing else to do...no one else is in the store, except me, my two fondling sales attendants and my audience...OK No more I finally say, they have put on and off at least 50 bras by now and braided my hair about three times. I quickly select 4 bras from the maybe pile as clearly I'm not getting out of here without buying something. I’m not really sure if any of them will fit as how can you tell if the bra over your shirt or the one on under your shirt is the one doing the job???...It’s a lingerie lottery and Im buying four tickets. Everyone is thrilled...the young hair stroking sales girl actually claps! The older woman seems especially pleased that I selected at least one of her suggestions (the ugly but well fitting plaid one)...The men stand up, say “tanks” and leave the store as I go to pay... WTF?...Were they just here to watch the live comedy soft porn bra fitting show or was it some innocent liming in the lingerie store on a Saturday morning? Hmmm...I have no idea what that ws all about, other than it is funny!
I head out into the mini mall and in the 40 minutes I have been buying bras they have set up a mendi henna stand. I am called over and aggressively sold a tube of henna paint. They then offer to paint my hand for free as "I have white skin and the henna will look nicer”...yes he actually says this, “you get a small one for free” he smiles, and “my wife is very fast” he assures me. Sure enough within 3 seconds she has covered my whole hand in an intricate henna design, way bigger than might be appropriate for my job here I worry and am quite glad I wasn’t offered a “big one”. I thank them and now have to wait half an hour for it to dry before going back out into the rain. So I go to the pirated DVD store (Guyana has no copy write laws) This time the clerk is very young and very male, and is standing so close I can smell what he had for lunch (curry and rice) He offers his own hilarious view of each movie I select complete with a plot spoiler each time and tries hard to sell me thrillers...or as he says in beautiful Creolese “tillers”... and he calls chick flicks “girly movie”. For less than $5 I buy 6 movies he approves of and then head off to the Rasta jewellery stand. I buy a few gifts and am then offered a bracelet which was apparently made just for me....it says “one love” in pink thread on a gold and black background. “Jest for you” he says.."ya be such a nice white gayl n’all”. Of course this is a blatant sales tactic, but how can I refuse as he puts the bracelet on me and smiles revealing his glinting gold teeth. I buy the bracelet “made just for me”..Hah!
Henna hand now dry and alarmingly bright purple, if very beautiful I head out in the rain right into the throng of shark like taxi drivers waiting for blood. I select a driver and negotiate a price home as it is pouring now with serious abandon and even if it feels like a huge splurge for me taxi’s are seriously only $1.50. Inside the car he quaintly puts on the heater as at a mere 26 degrees out or so, he’s says he’s cold in the rain. For less than $20 I have purchased four dubious fitting bras, (and not from a stick), a very cool henna pen, six movies (five girly movies and one tiller), three bracelets including a special one made “just for me”, two puris, a bunch of bananas, and one huge ass piece of BBQ chicken breast that will feed two of us for dinner and I of course have my beautiful and complimentary menhdi hand to show for my efforts. A nice way to spend a rainy morning...........I love this country!
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