Blog Update #8 – The Lethem Rodeo
Hello everyone. It’s
the end of April, month number 8 in Guyana.
I have only ten weeks left in Paramakatoi, and three-and-a-half months
left abroad, but this last month has been a good one.
For about a week leading up to the Easter holidays, Emily
and I had been excitedly divulging to pretty much everyone that we were
planning on going to the Lethem Rodeo on a truck. The holidays came, and we received news that
the truck would be arriving at the beginning of the first week. We were on stand-by already on Sunday 1st
April. That same day, we decided to go
and buy some flour from Vashti’s shop.
We went to find not Vashti, but her sister, China Doll (She looks like a
china doll, and that’s what everyone knows her as. I’m not sure what her real name is.) China Doll had us believing that she had been
told that the truck would not be arriving at all. Emily and I were devastated, but we kept asking
her, “China Doll. Are you serious? Is this for real?” She eventually gave in and started laughing,
managing to mention that it was April Fool’s Day! I think that’s the first time in over five
years that someone played a prank on me on 1st April.
So on Monday, 2nd April, the truck finally
arrived. On the same day, there came to
Paramakatoi a procession of about 15 four-by-fours. Every year, the president leads a safari from
Georgetown down through the rainforest to Lethem, and back up to
Georgetown. He visits a lot of the
different Amerindian settlements and promises to bring them better education,
healthcare, and other things which probably won’t happen (The newly elected
Donald Ramotar gave a rather (tedious) lengthy speech at the Rodeo, granting
them a cheque for an amount considerably less than £1,000. Even in Guyana, that’s not a lot of money,
but it is worth more here than you might think.) On Tuesday morning, the truck left
Paramakatoi around 07h00; on the back were seated almost twenty villagers and
contractors, including Emily and myself.
It also included among the villagers, our friend and colleague Monroe,
China Doll, two of our students, alone, and five more of our students with
their families.
I’m not quite sure how
to explain the track we travelled on, but basically, imagine a forest path for
hill walkers, which passes over some rough terrain and a lot of hills, then put
some football-sized rocks on it, make it really muddy and give it two tyre
trails instead of one path: that’s pretty much what we were travelling on. The truck was meant for carrying materials,
and people only in the cabin at the front.
The tyres were over a metre tall, so we were sitting high up, but on
random bits of machinery and boxes. I
spent half of the journey with my feet braced up against a chainsaw (without a
cover), and the other half sitting on a generator. Other people were sitting on boxes, barrels,
a spare tyre and bags.
The countryside which we travelled through, however, was
spectacular. For the first day, we
travelled mainly through the rainforest.
Ducking out of the way of branches was so common it became subconscious,
but it made us realise how truly untouched the jungle is here. Most of the forest is left to grow wild and
diverse, with only small acre-sized patches cleared for subsistence farming. We were travelling through pure wilderness,
over the Southern Pakaraima Mountains.
We passed through many villages, which were all equally beautiful:
houses built of clay or wood, with zinc roofs or leaves laid on wooden frames,
with trees of all types surrounding them, and often farms nearby. In almost every village there are a school, a
church and a health centre. Most of
these are built by the same organisation that built the school here and are
building the primary school here. The
buildings all have the same sort of layout as our school, with slight
variations, and they’re all yellow with red zinc roofs so they’re easy to spot. The churches are usually community built, or
built by a charity. When we reached
Tawailing Mountain, which is where you turn to go off the “main road” to Monkey
Mountain (a village), the bush ended for a while and we could see across a
large part of the Pakaraimas. It was
absolutely breath-taking. Most of what
we could see was rainforest-clad mountains with the occasional patch of
savannah, bathed in bright sunlight. I
know it sounds clichéd, but that is genuinely what we were looking at.
Our journey continued further south, over and around more
mountains and through a few more Amerindian settlements. At 04h00, we reached Yawong Paru. Here the truck stopped for the night as the
driver made some repairs. Yawong Paru is
on top of a small mountain with other peaks surrounding it, and patches of
rainforest decorating the valleys. It is
what I think of when I imagine a mountain top village. Emily and I overnighted in the nursery
school, where we hung our hammocks from beams.
We bathed in a creek two minutes away and ate dinner with the
contractors. I think we went to sleep at
about 20h00 – exhaustion pretty much knocked us out. And thank goodness! – At 03h30 on Wednesday,
we were woken by the trucks horn being sounded furiously just outside the
window. The truck driver said he wanted
to reach Lethem early so he could make it to Georgetown that evening. We hurriedly gathered our things – took down
our hammocks, packed our bags and climbed aboard. It was 04h00 by the time the last man was on
the truck, and still we had only the light of the stars and the vehicles
headlights disturbing the night. We
drove through rainforest – half asleep admittedly, until we reached the
beginnings of the Pupununi Savannah, in patches. We reached Karasabai around midday – this is
where the savannah properly begins. I
had to stand up near the front of the truck to catch the wind because it was so
hot. From Karasabai to Lethem the road
improves drastically: it is basically like a Forestry Commission gravel
path. Much smoother riding then the
morning, I can tell you that. From
Paramakatoi to Karasabai had taken us 17 hours and from Karasabai to Lethem,
the same distance, as the crow flies, took us two-and-a-half hours. By 15h00 Emily, Monroe, Ezra (a pupil) and I
were wandering through Lethem trying to find a taxi to take us to St Ignatius,
where the volunteers live.
We walked along the main road past some shops. Emily
insisted on going into “Emily’s supermarket” to ask for directions to St.
Ignatius, but the teller was busy trying to speak English to some Brazilian
tourists who only spoke Portuguese. We then continued walking and were soon
stopped by a couple in a car selling cakes. We asked them for directions to St.
Ignatius and whether it would be possible to walk there. We soon established
that they were teachers there, too, that they knew Dan,& Will, the
volunteers, and that they were, in fact, a taxi, too, so they agreed to take us
there.
Dan never got our letter telling him that we were planning
on coming, so he was shocked to see us. Ed and Peter, volunteers in Aishalton,
had arrived the previous day and they were expecting seven more guests the next
day but we were nonetheless welcomed into his home. We ended up sleeping on the
concrete floor. On Thursday we decided to take a day trip to Boa Vista, in
Brazil.
Bonfim is just across the border from Lethem, and a two-hour
bus ride takes you to Boa Vista. We took a taxi across the border and I was
surprised by the change of development from Guyana to Brazil. Roads were
properly tarred, without potholes, cars are new and buses are luxurious. The
bus we got to Boa Vista had faux – leather seats, foot rests and air-conditioning.
We arrived at a bus station like I imagine any Scottish bus station to be.
There were even ATMs! We basically spent the entire day walking about and
seeing the town. For breakfast we stopped at a small café, and were thoroughly tested
on our (extremely) limited Portuguese. We ended up having cheese toasties and
cheesecake because these were the only things the waitress could find in our
phrasebook. It was very embarrassing, and I decided there and then to learn
Spanish before travelling to any other country in South America. Which I had
every intention of doing, anyway. Apart from breakfast I also managed to
purchase some flip-flops. Then we returned on the bus to Bonfim and by taxi to
Lethem.
Saturday was the first day of the rodeo. We arrived at the
rodeo ground around lunchtime and watched the broncos and bullriding. Vaquieros
from all over Guyana compete to see who can stay on the wild horses and bulls
for longest. The worst accident was when someone got a horn to the face, but no
blood was spilt, so all is well. I must admit, the entire event was much
smaller than I expected, but that was a miscalculation on my part. It is maybe
understandable for a big event such as this to have a small turnout when the
host country’s population does not exceed 800 000. The spectator stands only
held about 2000 people. But it was a really good event.
On Sunday it was much the same, except that the events
included a horse race. That evening I went back with a group of volunteers and
took part in some of the dancing. They played forro, soca, chutney and
dancehall, but I only really danced forro. It was a very good evening. At about
03h30 the music stopped and we went home.
On Wednesday afternoon I got the bus up to Georgetown. It is
a minibus, which fits 15 people at a push. Emily, by the way, got the truck
back up to Paramakatoi. I left Lethem at 17h00, and slept on the bus, which
stopped at 23h00 for the night. From 06h00 to 18h00 the next day we drove
through jungle, mining areas and limberyards. By the time I reached Georgetown
I was quite happy to be somewhere stationary, and with a bed, even if it was
Georgetown and mosquito-infested.
Friday was spent shopping for the final term in Paramakatoi.
The next three days I was left in Georgetown with Mike & Ryan, the Chenapou
volunteers, waiting for a flight back to our projects. On Tuesday morning we
got a bus back to Mahdia. This is a very similar journey to the one I had made
the previous Thursday and, in fact, part of it is the same road. Mahdia is in
Region 8, though, and the plane from there to Paramakatoi takes only about 30
mins.
The town itself is very much a mining town. Most people here
are black, though it was originally an Amerindian settlement. Now most of the
Amerindians live in an area of Mahdia called Campbelltown. They moved because Mahdia
is now very dirty and smelly, with the mining. Needless to say I was happy to
be on a plane to PK on Wednesday afternoon.
I arrived in Paramakatoi and was greeted by Lisa, a
WorldTeach Volunteer. Then I came back to the house to find Emily in the
hammock nursing an infection on her knee and barely able to move it. Therefore
I unpacked the food boxes I had brought and made dinner, all quite contentedly,
as I was more than happy to be back in Paramakatoi.
In school on Thursday I remember
everyone being extremely welcoming. Sir Harald said to me, “Good morning, Miss
Antje. Welcome home!” Which is really what it felt like. Since then I have had
a quiet week. I’ve been mainly concentrating on trying to get my maths classes
through the course, so I have extra lessons until 17h00 on Tuesdays, Wednesdays
and Thursdays. I am already behind, having only covered half of the work I had
planned for this week, and I am really beginning to worry. I would just have
expected my pupils to be able to do some of the exercises I have been
repeatedly teaching them in different contexts by now. But, as I keep telling
myself, I can only do the best possible given their previous education in
Maths, so I count my blessings.
On Sunday, 29th April,
Emily and I were invited down to one of the villager’s farms. Miss Patty is the
head teacher of the Primary School and her son, Monroe, is one of our
colleagues in the Secondary. We left Paramakatoi at 11h00 and arrived at Miss
Patty’s mum’s house, which is where she does all her cassava work, before
twelve. When we arrived we were let into the house to find Miss Patty’s mum,
her sister and her niece. The house is made of wood with a slate roof and
inside there were two beds and a table, and an extension housed the open fire,
the farine pan and several small seats, among other things. Miss Patty’s sister
was already parching farine and her daughter, one of our students, had already
started sifting the grated cassava as soon as we arrived. We were given some
farine, fried beef and callaloo to eat. Soon after this Emily began to help
parching the farine.
The farine pan is a large metal
oil drum flattened out and with its edges bent up so as to stop any farine
rolling out. The process of making farine is long and has many different steps.
First, the cassava is peeled (the skin is scraped off with a knife), then it is
washed and grated. After this, it is placed in a matapee, which is a long tube
woven from reed, to be squeezed. The water of cassava contains a poison which
is removed by this process. This is repeated until the cassava is dry enough,
and then the cassava is sifted. It is then put onto the hot farine pan,
previously greased with cow fat. It is then constantly stirred and scraped from
the bottom with a sort of wooden paddle. It is made in large amounts in big
pans, so usually two people will stand at the side stirring at any one time.
This continues for a good hour until the farine is golden and hard. Then it is
removed and sifted once more.
When Emily was stirring the
farine, Fayann, Miss Patty’s daughter, was already sifting the next lot of
cassava so that it would be ready to parch as soon as what was in the pan was
finished. In the meantime, I went outside and helped Monroe chop some wood for
the fire. Hilarity ensued because I was a bit rusty, and pink because of the
temperature. I then went inside and helped Emily stir the farine. After this,
Emily and I scraped the skin off some cassava. Then, after Monroe and Fayann
had washed it, I grated some of this cassava, and my wrist and fingers, too.
The grater they use is basically a big wooden board with metal spikes sticking
out of it. There are no holes and you lean this against your thighs and grate
using your body-weight. It is also very sharp. – The whole time we were talking
to Miss Patty, Monroe, Fayann, their Amai (gran) and her daughter. It was a
really enjoyable day. We then walked back up the mountain, Emily carrying a
warishi. A warishi is the equivalent of a rucksack – made from a wooden frame
with a back and sides woven from the same plant as the matapee. Everyone in the
village was very excited and surprised to see Emily arrive carrying one of
these. So we arrived home with 10 lbs of farine, a yam, some bananas and some
tangerines. This was the first time anyone had let us help them with their
cassava work, and we really enjoyed it. I hope we’ll get the chance to do it
again in the next few months.
I think that’s all for now. April
has definitely been more eventful than the previous few months for me. I’m
trying to make the most of my time here; after all, I have only ten weeks left
in Paramakatoi.
As always, thank you for reading.
Lots of love to you all,
Antje xxx
