Thoughts of a minibus traveller

Microsoft Designer AI Image 'the sea and the jungle'   The Orishas Saturday afternoon and clouds have promise of rain. Minibus man asks if I going right down as he swing on Lamaha Street and I said yes no problem because I getting drop close to Fresh, the 'lil cafe shed place next to the bank ' as the taxi dispatcher later described. The woman in the painting looks at me , I am her equal. There are iron implements around her. She is young, strong and assertive - not fearsome.   I keep coming back to the painting as I am early and I can move around the room.  Later on, I am helping out a bit and in between helping, I feel as though Ogun as woman is looking at me, in a kind way.  Alyce Cameron's Ogun formed part of the Art Exhibition  hosted by the Alliance Française of Guyana and members of the Guyana Women Artists Association. The exhibition was curated by Pekahiah James. The artists who displayed their work are Alyce Cameron, Elodie Cage Smith, Jennifer G...

Translation of Bhartal - Chalo Piya Soyi Rahi from "Chowtal Rang Bahar" done by Ramnarine Sasenarine and Peter Manuel(2010) Sacred and erotic The Pandit shouts at me "Do you know what kind of bollywood song they were dancing Diwali night, don't they read the translations before they decide.. the lyrics are vulgar" .    "Nah we not singing that" one of the devout Hindu men I know says as  we read the translation to my favourite bartaal. I was like what the hell.., somebody planning a night of passion with the 'beloved " and not wanting the husband, elder brother wife to hear anything.. and while beloved means 'Hari, possibly Krishna.. I mean yeah.. we Hindus sing about adultery with God and so as part of the sacred. And when at the end of a chowtaal/Holi programme in the mandir, and the Pandit sings Rang Baarse .. and I think of the context.. I mean is a man singing to he lover while her husband deh bout.. .. and the language is clear.. the...

  Sinking with the Titanic Cool breeze on a hot Sunday afternoon and we listen as a poet near the Berbice River reads a conversation between a writer and the Titanic on the bottom of the sea.  "I am a writer , I said, I can be made of anything"  is one of the lines in the conversation with the Titanic  " On This the 100th Anniversary of the Sinking of the Titanic, We Reconsider the Buoyancy of the Human Heart" by Laura Lamb Brown-Lavolie .  The longish poem was just one though shared among the people gathered to read and share poetry in community together. Same time in other parts of Guyana there were chowtaal samelan, places where people gathered to share the Phagwah songs , written also in poetic forms. Reading and singing in community might seem okay, but in these times when the PPP was actively preventing the freedom of association in Lima Sands. ,  more community gatherings are needed to resist the divisions.  "I will write nonsense. I will writ...

Six candles  There were six candles on the table . Each one had the names of th e women and girls who died after experiencing violence from men who knew them. One candle for each of : 13 year old Millie Miguel 16 year old Janelly David 64 year old Parbhudai Boodram 40 year old Shameeza Mohammed 27 year old Kenesha Vaughn As sun went down, the organisers lit the candles on the table while others who came to keep the vigil used some of the battery operated lights.  I could not hold any more candles or lights. I could not wear the purple ribbon.  Many of the people at the vigil looked young, probably even born when Guyana passed the Domestic Violence Act in 1996. In November 2024, after the Red Shoe event, I had written about not wanting to look at the red shoes thinking of the other shoes which would be ad ded. 13 year old Millie Miguel was supposed to be protected by the Child Protection Act and other mechanisms. Adults made the reports but the State failed her.  Jan...

    Crescent moon    Taxi driver laughed and said "man you gotta come out more often in de night" as we looked in the western sky and saw the yellowish crescent showing partly on the darkened moon whose outline was visible in a clear sky.  The bhajan singing on the ground, close to the earth had mellowed me out after a weird weekend. A wake house, place of loss and I had worried about ending the weekend with more reminders of loss.   But the bottom house singing, when singing on the ground, in open air has this connection with those ancestors who sat outside the logies on the ground and prayed and sang . This time I was on a chair, but in my head , I was also on the ground. So is possible to look outwards a bit, and see the crescent moon rather than dwell on loss. First time I am seeing the moon like this. Taxi driver and I talked about life and death and grief and so. And about night time and day time driving.  Nine cats Come in the yard and to ...

  200 dollar passion fruit  "Why de hell dem aint want buy it if dem asking de price" the market vendor shouted to her neighbour after I asked the price of the passion fruit and she shouted 5 for $1000.. "Write up de price and put pun de basket so nobody aint got fuh ask" the neighbour suggested. Passion fruit more expensive than the imported apples in the 55 year old oil Republic. Nuff oil flowing and being found but only two vendors have the bags of the crushed brownish firmish fruit which I used to eat every day as part of the wellness regime until they were no longer available. I remember a school friend with her land proposal to plant passion fruit on the highway at a time when people were now planting and how she explained you just leave them and they bear , and another friend who had glut and was sharing from her yard, and one time I cooked the leaves as bhajee. Her vine withered up at some point as the seasons changed and like so many other things where pric...