I have found my favourite spot in Georgetown. I went down to
the sea wall again on Friday after school. I ran along a deserted beach from
one end of an empty bay to a yellow house at the other. The sun was piercingly
hot but there were gusts of warm tropical sea breezes. I felt (or told myself)
that this must be what doing Marathon Des Sables is like. Half way, I made a
slight detour to check out a huge dead catfish that had washed ashore. The run
back was just as serene; I followed my lonely footsteps all the way home,
tracking them along the sand. I still can’t believe it has taken me so long to
appreciate the sea wall.
On the way home, I bumped into Kala and we had a chat about
the volunteers. They are giving her some stress at the moment so we got
planning a trip to Orealla (one of their projects) with the British Ambassador.
Hopefully we’ll be going in the next couple of weeks.
September is Amerindian (the native people of Guyana)
Heritage Month and a few years back I made friends with some people from St
Cuthberts, which is a beautiful Amerindian village quite close to Georgetown.
One of these friends, Candy, had invited me over this weekend to celebrate with
their village. I arrived at midday on Saturday to a massive gathering of
people. We drove for an hour down the sand track to their village that opened
out onto 20 stalls selling local food and drinks and a huge benab (traditional
marquee). In the benab, they had speakers, singers and dancers, all kitted out
in grass skirts and headdresses. The dancing was fantastic. They had different
dances for different animals and even one for how to make cassava bread. The
singing was typically Amerindian and if you know what I mean, you will be
laughing right now.
Candy linked me up with a Peace Corps volunteer who invited
me in and immediately offered his spare key, filtered water and a bed for the
night. This was only the start of St Cuthbert’s ridiculous hospitality. We
mooched around the stalls and sat in the back of stationary pick-ups into the
night. For the second time in my life, I ate bush cow (tapir) pepperpot and
drank black potato wine. For the first time in my life I ate a tacumo worm (the
inch-long grub of a beetle). You bite off its head then get chewing. I wasn’t
overly keen but people were eating bowls of the stuff.
At dinner time I headed to the creek to bathe. There were a
few people sat around in cars, blasting music out into the jungle and liming
away. I ran straight in and dived through the inky black water. I popped my
head out, lay back and looked up. I felt like the sky had been painted. The
stars were so clear and crystally. There was a feint shimmering band of light
running all the way across the sky, marking the other side of the universe. Ultimately
it is the cheesiest thing ever but it has made one of the best moments of my life.
By nightfall the place was getting crazy. St Cuthberts is
foot-deep in white sand all over the village and this mixed with discos and
hundreds of people made it feel like the closest thing I will get to a
full-moon party in Thailand. Just with a shake of Caribbean style- all over the
dance floor, people were wining away; pretty surreal if you’re not used to it.
If Saturday night was crazy, Sunday morning was carnage.
This beautiful village that I so fondly remembered was covered in litter,
bottles and broken glass. We trudged our way through it all towards the creek
and the blaring music that had been missing from the last three hours! At the
creek, the party seemed to be continuing from the night before. Hundreds of people
were liming with red cups in one hand and their rum/vodka/whiskey in the other.
The Amerindian kids were running around, jumping off the banks, throwing sand
at each other and all with their big cheesy grins on their faces. I went in to
the water to swim again but nothing could match up to the stars from the night
before. At one point I was chatting to a guy who was taking his caiman for a
swim. Yes, that actually happened. The caiman was a baby and he would let it go
in the water then pick it up when it strayed too far. I don’t know what he will
do when he realises that they grow longer than the size of your forearm (it
will definitely taste good though). I was feeling pretty hungry so tried to buy
some food from what looked like a stall. The lady said she wasn’t selling it
but just at that moment, her husband came up and offered me a plate of roti and
chicken curry- perfect. The offers continued and in five minutes, I was tucking
into my food, sat on a chair that had been bought down to the beach for me with
a coke in one hand and incessant offers of vodka shots in my ear.
St Cuthberts, I adore you. Thanks so much for everything
this weekend.
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