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Showing posts from December, 2015

Cucumber, ginger, carrot , pine and the posts that people read in 2015

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2015 was the year when I discovered that blending cucumber and ginger and anything is also nice and refreshing, and that not many people are bothered when you write about nice things like this. The blog had lots of reads this year, especially after I changed the theme to the 'mobile' friendly one.   Most of the stuff that people read were the writings and laments about the general state of affairs in Guyana. The nice things about food and so didn't draw much attention. People read of the fear after Courtney Crum Ewing's death , and his funeral . No justice yet. Slap-and-strip-Bheri spoke freely to reporters who said nothing at the time and continued as normal.  People read about not voting and making change, but it didn't seem that any body bothered since plenty people voted, including fuh de chatree coolie ,  and as Mark Jacobs experienced , there has been no change. The fantasy piece about interviewing Mrs Harper h ad a lot of people laughing. Th

Kajol, Kajol, Kajol..pointing a gun at Shah Rukh .. Dilwale

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(Picture from Rediff.com ) SPOILER ALERT I fell for the 40 year old woman looking back through the tram window.  Hell, I was Shah Rukh the gangster falling for the woman  I went with all cynical like to see Dilwale but man, Kajol did it again.. with Shah Rukh Khan .. the man is 50 years and he wears a beard to look old and he can move and so on, and she also moving and playing a role which is kind of age less. So yeah, is a love story with all of the coolie pitchuh madness..   cinematography is beautiful. There is all the stylised fighting.. SRK switches easily from comic, lover boy to pscyhopath.. and Kajol does as well. The chemistry is there. The serious moments are broken suddenly with comedy and the comedy switches to violence quickly. One or two moments of irony.. man tiefing because he has to carry his girlfriend to  see a film in the multiplex at a cost 800 rupeees (about GYD2500 -Shoots it cheaper in Guyana.. ; and the three drunk men burning a drug shipment, b

Coil: Going for Tangerines on Christmas Eve

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by Vidyaratha Kissoon “Uncle, 10 ice apple fuh $1,000,” said a man who looked a couple of years younger than me. Apples are all over the market – $100 for one. Despite Burnham’s efforts, the apple-and-grapes-at–Christmas tradition is in full flow. “Ice apple” , like pepperpot is a Guyanese thing – descended probably from when apples were imported in ice boxes or something like that? I bought a pineapple from the man , and tried a ting that I was  buying pineapple and not apple but it fell flat in the frenzy. Christmas Eve day  and the itch to go downtown and finding an excuse in going and look for tangerines. The woman who walks and sells the best citrus had warned me that the tangerines would be gone “soon as the holiday done”.  6 for $200 and 4 for $200 – and working out the golden colour which would show a sweet tangerine. There was a year when tangerines were 10 and 12 for $100 but that was in the past. The tangerine sellers also asked if I wanted apples

Shredding thyme and healing..

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Body in pain as it tenses up in a kind of a struggle to ignore the feelings of what the hell am I doing.. undertaking two things which I never did before, but with anxiety that the results are going to be okay to those they matter most. Days when you think you want to be chilling out and relaxing and not being anxious about tasks .. and then the struggle begins to not be overwhelmed and not be consumed over the what ifs and how ifs... and how things could go wrong and so on.. The bundle of fine leaf thyme   is always too much.. . Not all of it can be used in the cooking. So stripping it.. twig at a time. Nice fragrance.. probably healing. Hands moving over each twig... and the some of the leaves escaping from the place where they have to go to be stored for use. The thyme task is completed, with the potential of flavour and nice tasting food in the future. The nice smell is everywhere. Mind is controlled again and body relaxes a bit. Control like.  Day goes through and thing

Death of the mint plant, thread, custard, life

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The mint plant died before I could transplant it and let it flourish. I had dreams of mint flourishing  - woman who gave me.. said oh oh.. it just runs wild kind of thing.. damn it.. the wrong plants run wild with me..  like all the wrong damned thoughts sometimes and cravings.. why the hell can't I crave lettuce and cucumber instead of the crunchy cheezee and cheez stix and sweet biscuits in small packets.. Small tasks.. and the crystals from the lights are fixed with the thread that the girl selling said is strong strong... they use for hair weaving .. and a sense of accomplishment as it has been a year since the task was postponed while looking for fine wire.. but in the absence of fine wire, thread will do.. and wondering about substitution and replacement and how sometimes things cannot be fixed the same way.. Making custard to eat with cake, and flavouring it with orange zest and looking at the bowl and wondering is how much cake I will eat it with. Nothing else this

Coil : God in Guyana

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by Vidyaratha Kissoon The Jehovah Witness who visited asked if I thought the world would be a better place if everyone worshipped the same God. I said no way, not with the way human beings are and the concentration of power and so as these things go.. kind of like everybody voting for either PPP or for PNC or whatever. I explained that diversity was part of the natural order and some Hindus conceive God as being within even with two dates for Diwali . He did not seem to understand. Then again, there should be no need for him to do so .. or do we need to talk about God in Guyana? A search for God in the Constitution of the Co-operative Republic shows an appeal “May God protect our people” . There is something about this resort to the unknown higher order, whose accountability cannot be defined in the Constitution unlike say the other duty bearers and office holders which are mentioned. We sing the National Anthem and plead “God (not the Army or police or w

Sax in the gardens, acapella and gay rights at the National Park

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"You can tell dem antiman nutting, dey have gay rights now".. a woman sitting behind me told her friend while Woodside Choir was singing The First Noel. "I aint mind dem, but not in my face" Cloudy Sunday evening. Nice chilly breeze.  It was easy to hear the women talk because, well the sound system was a bit mixed up and the choirs could not be heard from the North Eastern corner of the stands where we were seated. The President and Mrs Granger hosted the Christmas Story. An impressive musical programme which featured choirs, the acapella group Circle of Love, solo artistes, and big bands with the narration and acting of the story. The planning and co-ordination must have been enormous. I am sure the President didn't notice the grammatical error on the entrance ticket. "Look, is Mr Bentick come back from New York" . The solo and small groups had good sound and some people around me cheered loudly for Mr Bentick's Go Tell it on the Mou

Carrot cupcakes wid orange icing to lift de mood and de shugah

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The orange icing is green, because oranges are green and yellow skin in Guyana. The original recipe at Epicurious has been modified to :- Ingredients : For cupcakes     2 cups grated carrots, grated on the 'teardrop holes' of the grater     1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour     1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder     1 heaped  teaspoon baking soda     3/4 teaspoon salt     1 teaspoon ground cinnamon     1/2 teaspoon ground ginger (or extra of the other spices)     1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg     3/4 cup vegetable oil (Or i use 1/2 cup oil, and 1/4 cup golden cream margarine)     3/4 cup crushed ripe banana     1 cup packed light brown sugar     1 teaspoon vanilla essence For icing     1 1/4 cups icing  sugar     1/2 teaspoon grated orange zest or more     2 to 3 tablespoons fresh orange juice     Make cupcakes:         Preheat oven to 350°F/180 C with rack in middle. Line muffin cups with paper liners.        Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, an

Grapefruit moon and unknown jazz at midnight..

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It was late.. around or after midnight. Fingersnap was on stage. The jazz festival was ending. Woman next to me was a bit tired, and hungry. She had been cleaning all day. She said "Why dey doan play ting what people know.. ow it late.." I tried to say, sleepy as I was.. something always good to hear new things but I shut up.. earlier in the night the MC was happy that Charmaine Blackman sang Etta James' At Last - he said At Last Georgetown is clean again. The man was singing a song, I caught the words Grapefruit Moon. The closing song more or less , a kind of finale which was.. well sad , and that was perhaps the sadness that the festival was done, the music done, and we had to go home even though the breeze was cool and nice. And well I guess that the woman would have liked some rousing sing along kind of jazz, but not this haunting rendition.. which sounds to me better than the original by Tom Waits. (Here is Fingersnap in 2011 ) Something though, about

Destiny in the broken louvre windows..

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You kind of know that it will be difficult to do the cleaning for many reasons.. dust from the construction and the heat is everywhere and the designs which are not have all kind of dirty crevices which are more visible when dirty. Mind is cool. Trying to think that this could have been quicker if things were different. A lesson from living as a guest in other peoples' space is that things are quickly disposed of and new things are not acquired. Minimalist living as  a kind of lesson in detachment. Desire for cleanliness though.. the last detachment as the dust though is not in your memories, but in the memories of a man whose space you are occupying and who will hold on to things for value.. born of a time where hoarding things which gather dust was a sign of progress. Things which should be disposed of. The guilt at disposing of some things. The dust in the old paper which never goes away and  and feeling angry about feeling angry and not feeling grateful that at least t

Coil: Music Amid the Discord

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by Vidyaratha Kissoon The man next to me said that I should listen to the  Oh Holy Night by Mariah Carey and the one by Lucianno Pavorotti . We were talking while another man was singing Oh Holy Night at a Christmas Concert on the day before President Granger met with Bharat Jagdeo . I followed his advice and listened to both versions while contemplating this Coil and wondering how to write about music without writing about music. The man is a singer. I got a bit nervous, I had to try hard during the sing along at the Concert because I am sure that I sing off key. Fortunately though, there was no indication from the man (well no grimaces or so) that I was off key. There was no invitation either to join the man’s excellent singing four man acapella group. The four man acapella group is reminiscent of this nice picture after the meeting this week between President Granger and Bharat Jagdeo. It seems to be an official picture. I swear I saw  a 42 second vide

Rain and prayers for no rain, sax in a rubber slippers , Shakespeare and feeling good

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Paloma looked at the skies and saw the stars. She said "the rain has finished. I am praying for the clouds to move.. and like my prayers are being answered" It did not rain again. I was soaked because I decided to walk through the heavy 6pm shower to get to the Theatre Guild .. could not think of any jazz music to play in my head though I am sure there is Jazz in the rain. I had been listening to Ruth Osman's Rain .. on Friday a group danced to it, and on Saturday another group did the flowetry performance around it. The Flowetry competition (Flowetry is something about rhyming wid motion or poetry wid music or sumtin.. ) started late. A lot of angst as expected, Guyana birthing six races, some live music and the rock band which did not realise that they had to do a poem but came to play.. and did their rendition of Nina Simone's Feeling Good which they arranged a few minutes before they performed. Blues in the Night Francis Bailey played his sa

Peanut punch and jazz under the eucalyptus trees..

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"So she can play the flute and sing?" the young woman asked in wonder as Ruth Osman started her part of the programme on the opening night. It was late .. way past my bed time.. but time did not matter really under the eucalyptus trees at the back of the Theatre Guild hearing the live music. Two young women said they did not normally listen to jazz, but they were enjoying the music  One young man said the show was good , he never really bothered with jazz either and he was there because of 'Doc'. Peanut punch was on sale and I finished mine some time around when Charmaine Blackman sang At Last Earlier in the afternoon, two men won the Jazz Dance competition, One of their dances was to Guyana born singer Nhojj's Love . I was blown away though by the Hamer family dancing to Ruth Osman's Rain . I heard that Kenrick Cheeks wowed the audience with his kathak/jazz performance. He got second. The music was good. Even if I have no

Madeleines and other lessons as the clouds parted..

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Woke and did not feel so bad and did want to get up to do the chores and so. The body pained but it did not bother too much. Cleaning - wiping over surfaces which had been wiped before as it seemed the clouds were lifting again.. and thinking over the things which got me through the last few days.. 1. Madeleines and other good and bad food Eating and binge eating.. but not over doing it since binge eating on crap makes you feel worse. Having one or two good things around to binge on. Chewing dried pineapple and banana  was not so bad as chips and so. A friend had madeleines "take them the kids wouldn't eat them.." Trying to figure out what is the good food and what is the bad food. Food probably takes awhile to work. Bad food probably counters good food. 2. Spontaneous things Doing things randomly. Like the mundane tasks which had to be done. Small things which did not require energy but which could generate energy. Like going and collect books which I might n

Ignoring bright sparks and doing the mundane..

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Something about the cotton wool.. like this blanket with varying thickness through which there are bright sparks of ideas of things which could be done. A few days of not being able to be productive but doing things at a top-top level, things which could be done without much thinking - trying to do a thing which requires thinking and tuning out after 10 minutes. Some big jobs around to be done which are mundane but which require a kind of consistent energy which is not easy to muster up now. Can't even read because it is difficult to concentrate .. so not quite a holiday. Words have to be woven and one bright spark has an idea of the one thing. Other ideas of folding newspapers and sharing out love in them have to be put on hold. Walking out to take some sun and get a task completed.  Scrolling up and down the Facebook page without even seeing anything and then random reading and listening to a variety of surprisingly good things ..and hoping that things are being stor

Hot sun as calming..

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Start the day of with slight anxiety at an event in which I would be spectator. Also with a kind of manic thing to do a thing so that I could show I could still do new things.  Anxiety abates in a way as I carry on a conversation about plantains .. my ability to talk in depth about things which I do not know covers other inabilities. Then there are conversations which have the head swapping gender, ICT, government and then mental health.. going on the spot and talking with a woman interviewing people about what can be done about suicide in Guyana who said that nobody told her there was a helpline (the numbers are Telephone -223-0001, 223-0009, 223-0818 Cellphone – 600-7896, 623-4444). There is something about the madness around madness and body feels a bit restless. Tried to calm down and carry on conversation. Felt shaky. Come out in the hot sun and feel it. Mind whirling with different things.. things which could be done, things which have not been done, reasons why things

The relief of dusk...

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Something about the end of year dusk.. the sky changes colour as the sun sets. There are some rituals.. well Hindus should do prayers.. eat, bathe.. Dawn is supposed to bring new hope and excitement of a new day and when nights are horrible, day break comes as a relief. Day today started with reading one of the Guyana diaspora experts  - "Wellness is a 'reward for diligent and proactive behaviour'.. I read it as .. you have to get up and get, finish with that depression nonsense. The day though goes through with behaviours, most reactive , with little energy for the proactive. The contemplation of the exercise before dusk.. trying to forget how it used to feel running on the seawall into the dusk and listening to water while cooling down.. and focussing on seeing if the body can stretch and the head can reach the knees and not thinking that .. what the hell anyways, it does not matter anyway. When days  are full of anxiety and moving around and fighting with y

ICT Conversation : Estonia to Guyana..

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The participants at the last Software Freedom Day had agreed to keep the conversation going about Guyana and the use of Information and Communications Technologies. Bhoojnarine Hemchand did not know that Estonians apparently have a " deep abiding love for trees." He had visited as part of an OAS workshop since Estonia has become a benchmark in terms of how it uses IT. Estonia gained independence from the Soviet Union 1994 independence - they realised that using Information Technology was critical to development of the country. Estonia is now one of the most 'wired' countries in the world and is an example to other countries wishing to develop similar infrastructure and services. Some of the lessons for Guyana which I gathered are :- There was a vision - a woman in a forest looking for mushrooms and needing reliable information about the correct mushrooms E-estonia is a national project (non partisan), driven by need to develop their economy and to bui

Coil : Coconut oil, bodyguards and the bus shed

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by Vidyaratha Kissoon It was 930pm and the taxi man grumbled.. “Dis nah nutting like GuyExpo, yuh tink yuh could ah walk hey when was GuyExpo wid all dem people. Nobody aint coming” There were no crowds, no loud music. No traffic jam. Last time I had bothered with GuyExpo was in 2012 when there were lots of crowds and so on. It had moved from Guyana on show to “14 Chinese companies” at one of the more recent ones. According to one of the exhibitors who had also stopped going to GuyExpo “Banks used to mek de money out deh”. A successful GuyExpo was “ 30,000 persons every night” . A friend had posted an appeal on Facebook. Come and buy local. A few other people posted things like ‘go and get your authentic casareep” The ticket booth had no line early in the afternoon. $500 for adults still (since 2009 at least) , $300 for children. An exhibitor said “ow man, dey could ah leh de chirren come in free, tings bad now.. we know it wasn’t supposed to be a p

Reading as love making - Groundings 4 Dec, 2015

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Thandi said she was leaving and had to go home - about four or five times.. but she didn't leave .. she got involved in encouraging passers by to get free books. "Come on teachers.. come on you have to read... " There was a nice young couple holding hands and they blushed when we encouraged them.. 'go on. get some books, you can read to each other".. They picked up a Star Wars book and another book. Another couple which passed - the young woman looked a bit suspiciously but the young man picked up a book A lot of parents wanted their children to 'see what they want'.. and we said to the parents.. you too you have to read. There were three rice bags of books which were to be shared out. Busy people doing groundings which was meant to be about love and sharing love but we forgot all the interactivity and questions and invitations to read poetry aloud. One of the young men we had met doing the Groundings told us his family papers had come throu

Breathing as a pain killer..

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Smart woman who is thinking and has thought of suicide wrote after reading the article about suicide said that "Depression has a way of hiding and just a small word or a little action, a song or a scenery while driving sets it off" Managing depression means managing the responses to the triggers of the events, staying far from places and things and situations I don't go to receptions, weddings, parties, I avoid boards and board meetings, I seek events where I can be active, doing something. After waking up this morning and getting through the surya namaskar, after weeks of not being able and body still feeling tensed up but mood okay. Tasks ahead to be done. Some adhoc interactions set off the feelings and the initial reaction is the despair and crunching up of the body as though to ward off any blow and also to hold back words and thoughts which might create a quarrel. Searing pain throughout the body.. all over, not fire, not muscular or even in the bone.