Thoughts of a minibus traveller

A young man who is studying for an Economics degree messaged me on Facebook to ask about consultancy and work in general. I had quickly responded about getting a job and experience and so, but then was thinking more about the work advice I could give . Yeah.. I am at that age where giving advice is the excuse for thinking what I could have done differently if I knew then what I know now and so on.. Dear Youth man... 1.  Don't take my advice I might not be the best example of a successful consultant - in fact I don't like to use the word too much because it has different kinds of implications in terms of the money and so. I like some of the consultancy work which I have been given because there is an opportunity to stretch your boundaries. The difficulty though is when your recommendations are not followed through. Two times this year, I have had to find responses for people who asked me .. "So whatever happened to... ?" and I feel foolish saying "

The man asked on Facebook why I had not rainbowed up my display. He is a nice guy so I did not want to burden him with my politics. I did not want to rainbow because I am suspicious of Facebook's motives and Facebook as corporate entity joining the LGBT equality movement is not free from criticism .   The other thing is that Pride is a kind of foreign thing, and while foreign thing is not bad, it seem kind of like Thanksgiving and Turkey and Halloween and that it must be celebrated in a certain Globalised way with rainbow flag and so on. I mean.. while I have no solutions, it would be nice if Guyanese/Caribbean people could find ways to celebrate progress/mourn lack of progress in LGBT equality which have nothing to do with beer companies and cities making money.  And miserable anti-drinking anti-celebration-without-conscious cynic that I am, I keep thinking of how people who are concerned like #blackoutpride ,  that the thing is not protest any more and that the only pe

by Vidyaratha Kissoon  “Dat man talking stupidness. He is not a real doctor” the man next to me muttered at the National Library. The Working People’s Alliance convened  a Symposium on “The Political And Economic Challenges Ahead For Guyana” on Thursday June 25, 2015. This was to commemorate the 35 th anniversary of the murder of Walter Rodney. There were presentations by Dr Turhane Doerga, Dr. Rishi Thakur,   Dr. Maurice Odle, and Professor Clive Thomas. The National Library was packed out. The average age, according to a former WPA activist, was about the average age of the Cabinet. And like the Cabinet, mostly men. Black men who might have gone to WPA meetings back in the day when Walter Rodney’s books became no longer available in the library even if they were on the catalogue. The young people seemed to be mostly journalists, covering the event. The first presenter, Dr Doerga opened his presentation by saying he had to do some research about Walter Rodney. He m

When it becomes difficult to manage mental health, I go and try to do small tasks like pack up the drawers or the book shelf. Today was to sort out the plastic bag of envelopes which I have to recycle/reuse. I do not know how many people hoard envelopes. I found an envelope with a 2007 post mark.  There are other envelopes , nice Letter size, which had brought the information from Universities way back in 1987. I used one the other day to post stuff. So I go through the pile of envelopes. There are some beautiful ones which had come with wedding invitations and I have no clue what to do with them. Maybe I will use them for my own wedding invitations. So I will plan my wedding just to reuse them. I used to carry the envelopes to the office where I worked where recycling was encouraged. These days a lot of emails and so are used, so I have no need of envelopes as much. So I go through the pile of old envelopes, and the bits of cardboard which I think I could use for somethin

The amazing writer asked so 'what are you up to today' and I couldn't answer properly because the list of tasks which require different kinds of skills make no sense when the overwhelming urge is to lie down and be quiet and try to wait for the moon to change its phased or whatever it is that has the clouds weighing down. I start cutting up the pumpkin to cook but thinking of the two other tasks which have to be done and I want to try new things with the pumpkin so I stop cutting up the pumpkin and then resume the other task while thinking of the third task and waiting on a call about the fourth task and thinking of the pending fifth task which requires some problem solving skills on a project from over a year ago which I have to relearn the details which are not related to new ways of cooking pumpkin. The body feels weird after the sleep with the the nuts/popcorn/cheeze stix induced dream disturbed sleep and I have been wishing for 8 straight hours of dreamless slee

The taxi man said he missed the Guyana elections. He not too bothered with the Government. He seh.. nah man , dem aint gun ban flour again?  Saying this because I have Goodbye to Berlin in my head.  I had bought the book a year ago in a second hand Toronto bookstore and read it on the plane to Toronto on a random trip. And this line, on the first page had me hooked. "“I am a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking. Recording the man shaving at the window opposite and the woman in the kimono washing her hair. Some day, all this will have to be developed, carefully printed, fixed.”  .   This quote is apparently a cliche now. Isherwood is anything but passive, and recording. This is the 1929 to 1933 Germany.. with its happening 'sexual freedoms' and Nazi beginnings. There are six short stories about different characters. The only time Isherwood seems to smile is in this brutal ending paragraph. The sun is shining and it is a day to be h

Five years ago the friendship ended. The intense connection. The love etc. The complications. Three years ago you walked past me straight. A few weeks ago in one of the random messages which you sent that there was a financial loss. I laughed at myself as I sent the piece of paper with a contribution to the recovery which you insisted you did not want. I said , no... please do as you want. There is no obligation. You sighed and said Thanks. I have not heard from you again. I got the piece of paper back with your handwriting at the back which indicates that you accepted the gift. I used to imagine myself making such gifts anonymously.. staying far away as possible but close enough to 'help' if necessary. Because when we used to talk of Love, I made promises which I intend to keep even though there might not be any love anymore. I tore up the piece of paper and threw it away determined to let the past go. I went back into the bin to scan the piece of paper to

The lily turns green as it ages apparently. Even as it ages, it is photogenic.. well anything is photogenic really as it thrives and decays depending on the photographer. Gratitude exists for all the recent opportunities for travel and new connections and for reaffirming existing connections. Linking up with strangers and talking about ways of grinding cane to make juice and adultery and other things. The travel though not necessarily being refreshing and rejuvenating even as all the time thinking of living in the moment. Walking into an unattended exhibition and meeting an artist from Pakistan who said that she does not bother to lock her door where she lives while thinking of the mad violence in Guyana since the elections. The post election civil war did not happen, but people turning on each other still. Guyana being this place where the hysteria of those who won the elections now being replaced either by concern that change taking too long to come, or denial that stu

by Vidyaratha Kissoon  The car man says that he fell in love with Moses the first time he heard him speak at an AFC rally way back. He worked hard for the AFC in the 2011 elections. He asks me if it is okay to smoke and hangs the cigarette out of the window. Another car passes with a young driver. Car man hails him up and the other driver shakes his hand out as well. Car man laughs and says.. that is meh young cousin. Car man is black, the young cousin is coolie. Car man says “he used to haul ganja fuh me and then I find out we is family. He is a good guy”. I ask about the ganja trade. Car man said that was in the old days. He never did cocaine though because it never came to him. Now he is all for peace and love. He is smoking tobacco, not ganja in the car. This is the first trip to Corentyne  since the last one before the elections.  The car man the last time talked about ecstasy. I am getting nervous these days about the number of people who I am meeting

By Vidyaratha Kissoon  The woman in the picture stands elegantly on the old wooden stelling. Her head is thrown back and she smiles confidently at the photographer from GINA .  She holds a teddy bear in her hand. The GINA caption on the picture says “ One of the alleged perpetrators, Maria De Socorro Nascimento Lages and others who will be assisting the police in their investigation” . The GINA story further states that “According to Minister Broomes, one of the alleged perpetrators who was charged with TIP and released on $1M bail, was also held for questioning after she walked into the station with two of the girls’ passports.” At this stage, everything is alleged. The two perpetrators are named are  a woman and a man.  GINA leaves us to assume that the woman moving the teddy bear out of Bartica is Maria. Maria is one of the people swept up by Minister within the Ministry of Social Protection, Simona Broomes and a team in Trafficking in Persons (TIP) raid early

The woman who had a book in her hand said that Rodney was a stupid man to believe that somebody would mek a bomb fuh he. She said she know that everything else was good. Another man said yes, there is jackass and educated jackass. WPA is now in power with PNC and the date of Walter Rodney's death comes at the end of a week in which the Rodney Commission of Inquiry will be closed off, with the nation more amazed at the cost of the Commission than any of its findings. Sherlina and I did the Groundings - remembering one year after the first one . Time flies. The banner is on the fence. The pavement is nice. Place hot and humid. I came with magazines and a few books. First man has two pieces of wood, and a big black sack. Clothes also torn. He looks and looks away . I say come and take. He puts down the sack and the two pieces of wood and stoops down. He handles each book lovingly. Turns the books over, picks them up, puts them down. He spends the longest time before he

The night before.. mentodex, broad leaf thyme wid honey, ginger tea wid honey, peppermint oil and vicks on the foot bottom and socks, a paracetmol in case of headache, castor oil (and blow Karen Hall name because Karen swear by castor oil and nutmeg for everything) and shilling oil pun de chest and eucalyptus oil pun de pillow... Night was a bit fitful.. kept waking up because of the rain and tossing and in my mind all the things that I have to do before the end of August.. 530am and I get up.. rain, place cold, but I say.. right.. time to start cleaning house and so.. the water not in the back yard. .. take off socks and so .. place cold, floor cold.. but some energy from somewhere got me going and I moving fast because the water rising downstairs near the pipe where I have to full the bucket to mop. No coughing. Throat feel a bit funny. chew some thyme. Drink some tumeric and honey and hot coffee.. Drink some coffee wid cinammon. Manage to do all the cleaning. And extra..

The woman, one of bheri's women embraced me warmly. It was easy to embrace her because in the madness of Guyana's political history, her story is one which saw her breaking stereotypes of coolie women . The partisan politics in Guyana which was meant to make people 'independent' and 'liberated' did not work out that way. One of bheri's men,  came up to me and extended his hand. He, like bheri, has a lot of contempt for women. And so I mutter nice things and shake his hand in return .. well I can't spit on it can I ? A woman I  hugged once and who used to hug me.. walks past straight.  A young woman, a student who I met two or three times but who said her work included some personal introspection.. there was this spontaneous hug , but I have finished marking and I wonder what would have happened if before marking.  This lily in the yard which is lasting a long time kind of stands out from the leaves around it. The lily needs the nourishment from

by Vidyaratha Kissoon One man called me a coolie supremacist when I dared to post a comment on Facebook that one day Guyana would advertise for positions in the public sector rather than continue the partisan tradition of appointing, sometimes very qualified, loyal party supporters. Some people are relieved that the PPP is out of office no matter what, others are relieved the PPP is out of office but concerned that some things seem to remain the same while others are not too bothered as long as life goes on. Some people say “give dem time” and the amount of time varies. Dr David Hinds and Ruel Johnson wrote early about criticising the administration even if they supported the change. Some people say stop being so negative all the time about Guyana in general. Instead of boring binaries of good and bad things, there might be a spectrum from Good to Bad which is Good, not so good, mosquito bites (bad but tolerable); bad – but not so bad as before, weird and fa

I in a rush and I swallow me tongue and say, I aint kay how dutty de music or how fast it going.. I have to take de fus bus dat come and I aint gun seh a word because I dont want to have to lef de bus. (Dat is how principles and so does go) Climb in de front seat. Music not too bad and the top of the Windscreen got something followed by a crucifix. Bus fulling up gradually. Bus man had to swerve to avoid a dancing drunk man on de road and de panic was eased by everybody laughing. Bus man, big man, wid tattoo and ting,  open sweetie and throw paper on the road. I think about the conversation with Captain Clean where I said I aint going and pick up after nobody. So I gently say , man.. how you gun mess up yuh house so? Dis area didn't flood? Bus man look at me and say nah nah.. is not sweeti paper dat flood up de place is styrofoam and plastic bottle. Man in de fus row at behind we say.. dis place gotta clean up. People attitude gotta change.  Anodda man say recycle de

Nutmeg and clove are 'good for you' so a nice kind of tea made with the nutmeg, clove and chamomile and pineapple while thinking how to write about flowers coming up after the trees had died. A young man who had a spiritual crisis a few years ago talked about how that was all part of his living because in his struggle out of the crisis he deepened his study of his faith and consolidated his values which he might not have done if he did not have the crisis. Listening to him and thinking that well.. yeah.. bad/good and moving on and perspectives and so. In the neglected yard, where some things run wild and other things flourish , there are some random moments and sparks. The wildness with a lot of plants which no longer bear fruit or flowers is like my head with all kinds of ideas and memories.. and the random flowers which come up, are like those moments where there is lightness and then things can be done, social engagements can be made, work can be output, help can b

A surreal day .. about three requests from men for a 'raise' or to take part in a 'hustle' and then an intense discussion about how to do some discussions and then I end up in the Stabroek Demico to meet someone. Some people sitting down. The staff there, and some customers. Some people sitting down. Elderly woman hails me up. Hello sir, I know you.. do you remember me from before you went away? I go over to her. Bags and so. She looking comfortable. Other lady looking at me and the lady. I shake hands. I say sorry Ma'am I dont remember you. She says.. yes, man.. You were younger. I say, where did you work? She said parliament. Other lady looking at us with a kind of smile on her face. I say no, you have me mix up with somebody.   I say let me go , I have my friend to meet. I ask her.. 'Do you want a coffee'? Other lady looking at me and the lady and shaking her head and smiling. Lady says.. 'Thank you. But not a coffee. I would like a chick

Jacinta and Treadway Blake live in a part of Canada called Labrador and they get a baby they name Wayne. Wayne is born with both male and female reproductive organs (in different stages of development). They decide to raise him as male. Thomasina is a friend of the family who lost her daughter Annabel. She calls the baby Annabel but goes off travelling the world. The word intersex is not used in the book. The word hermaphrodite is used. The book is about how Wayne's family try to bring him up, without causing harm and stress even with their understanding of what male/female could be. Treadway wants  a son and Wayne tries to be a son. Jacinta and Thomasina want Annabel. Jacinta, when visiting the hospital for first time.. "Everyone was trying to define everything so carefully, Jacinta felt; they wanted to annihilate all questions."   The book is set in Canada, telling stories about people who I have not read about. The characters are interesting and could b