Thoughts of a minibus traveller

This week I had to get up early to go out every morning to town.. 6-ish or so. I know many people do this daily. I set the alarm for an hour earlier and manage to get up.. it is strange though doing the surya namaskar in the pre dawn darkness but at least I face east. The mornings have been cool and facing the seawall and walking down Churchroad to get the minibus.. breeze blows.. cold and nice... to wake you up some more. The minibuses are there.. full with early morning people .. most buses are playing hymns and gospel (yeah, even the ones with the flowers on the murti on their dashboard).. though one morning one bus (with a flower on the murti of Lord Krsna on the dashboard) had some of the music with the lyrics about man overpowering woman. Walking down empty streets and seeing the early morning.. people going home after work, people now starting work. Coconut water vendor.. I dont think I can stomach coconut water so early. The people we pass, we say morning sometimes. One

Rush hour and the minibuses fulling up by Bourda market. I have my three salt bags and a green Bounty bag on my shoulder. I go to stand next to an elderly woman , black woman- green cap, hair in a few long gray braids, green shirt, prominent crucifix on a rosary, two carrier bags.. dingy like my salt bags. She muttering to who would listen, as some of us do.. about being independent and things like that. We start gaffing. She tell me she like my green Bounty bag. I say, I would love to give you but it got some stuff in it I cannot transfer. She says she was a nurse, now living in Barbados. She come home for a few deads. We talk about health.. gall stones. I know someone with gall stones. She tell me that 'you indians have to stop eating so much curry.. curry gives you gall stones' She said she is part of a prayer group and she will offer some prayers for the person I know. She ask if I am Christian. I say no Hindu, but all prayers good. I said that would be nice. We g

Over the last couple of weeks, I have read Boyhood : scenes from provincial life by JM Coetzee; and Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Boyhood is set in South Africa, and told by a 'white' boy who thinks that childhood is a time of "gritting teeth and enduring". Purple Hibiscus is set in Nigeria, and a story told by a 15  year old Igbo girl, Kambili,  who has to deal with an abusive father who is revered by his community; amongst other things. Coetzee's writing is stark, kind of like the dry, dusty, stark landscapes which form the backdrop to the story. His boyhood is brutal.. no licks at home but he witnesses the licks at school. We learn of the divisions between Afrikaaner and English; and between religious denominations and classes. The child is made aware of these differences. Adichie's writing is lyrical, flowing, like a story teller. It is a narrative which describes the brutal and the beautiful aspects of Kambili's life without

The bookclub is doing Sly Company so I took it... and it was a fascinating read. There are a lot of thoughts running through my head after reading it. Rahul Bhattacharya came to Guyana for a year and limed with various people and created this book which we not sure if is true or not, if it is based on real people or made up people. The India coolie who not like the other India coolies In 2001, I got a strange email from a guy who wanted to come to Guyana to get away from India and to work with me (he thought I was some very big activist person). This opened me up to this other non-bollywood, kind of Indian person who had powerful use of English and their other languages. He encouraged another friend to come whose writing about Guyana was extremely powerful, and whose reflective piece GuyanaRama is locked in a Transitions edition. The lens through which Guyanese were viewed was one of those 'quaint' or 'absurd' ones and every one's actions seemed judged next to s

Guyana - well the part of Guyana who could be bothered with Parliament - finally exhaled on Thursday when the Speaker and Deputy Speaker of the Parliament were finally confirmed. I am biased bad because I believe that the PPP should go back into opposition, like the PNC, and get some spiritual refreshing and rejuvenation. So, I was glad that their nominee did not get the Speaker position. Many assert that Mr Ramkarran did his duties well.  My experience as a citizen leaves me wondering at these assertions. A lot of us do not understand the power of the Speaker in the parliament and unless we have had to engage with parliament, would not bother. I engaged with the National Assembly through the Clerk as part of professional obligations, and it was good to know that Mr Ramkarran as Speaker was working to improve the operations of the National Assembly. Mr Ramkarran during his tenure had also invited SASOD as part of a group of civil society organisations to one of the

545am cell phone alarm rings and you dont feel like getting up. there are chores to be done laundry and the three rounds of exercise.. thoughts are all over, and i feel more tired than when i went to bed. Dreams which have to be undreamt and then new ones to form but no energy to deal with those. Relationships which no longer nurture and sustain but drain instead and which cannot be broken due to commitments. Other relationships which have been severed and which had a lot of investment.. failure. 600am Church bell is ringing and i feel like i cannot move. i remember this time last year and other years and other things and thinking of the future and the day and the things which failed and wish that I was dead. that i did not have to wake up. Sun is coming up. It is getting later and stirring in the house. I cannot make the three rounds of surya namaskar today .. have to get up. 645am I get up.. sun is in.. and i hear stirrings in the house. I want to lie down back and just lie d

One of the things of being with SASOD has been the questions of "do you know if so and so deh suh". Another thing has been the disclosure of secrets.. of hearing who actually deh suh.. even tho' they play dey is not suh or they in church and so on. And some people nod sagely and say yes.. dey know dey know, or dey hear from solid sources. Others who deh suh avoid me and SASOD because they think I am a flaming homosexual and will out them and not keep their secrets. Outing Outing is this process by which journalists, prostitutes, former sex partners, drug dealers, police will disclose whether a person is gay/homosexual/bisexual/deh suh or not. Or has ever had sex with someone of the same sex/gender while drunk or high on drugs. Scott Long wrote this piece about the ethics of outing people - celebrities, pastors politicians, homophobic people. He looks at recent cases of outing of mostly Republican, conservative, anti-gay marriage people and  questions whether out

A beloved friend gave me one of these Ghiradelli Chocolate squares.. 72% Cacao it says.. and an hour or so my manic thoughts moved from the 23 murders in two months; the mosquitoes from the stagnant drains created by the large concrete structures going up in the prosperous land creating swamps; to thoughts of  thriving in Guyana Thriving without surviving Some of us are lucky.. we have work, we have homes, we have health, we have things. Others do not have these things or only some of them. Many people pay different prices for these things. One of the prices is silence. After voting in November 2011, many people will remain silent, or be selective in where they air their voices and concerns. These silences, to quote Audre Lorde.. immobilize us , the fear of speaking out and identifying on working on the things which will make us Thrive. Guyana has a lot of opportunities for us to overcome our fear f silence. Thriving in Guyana means accepting that we were never meant to survive.