Coil: Uniquely Guyanese

by Vidyaratha Kissoon

“I know you ask fuh two,” the man said has he handed me the pink saucer with three baiganee with the splash of the mix of “you want lil peppah and lil sour” instead of “ peppa alone” or “sour alone”.
It is a hot afternoon, and the free extra baiganee  goes with a glass of cane juice mixed with ginger juice with ice.

I do not know anywhere else in the world where it would be possible to have three baiganee, one free, with a mix of mango sour and peppa and a glass of mixture of cane juice and ginger juice. There is the odd fly buzzing around, and in typical Guyanese fashion, the fly is brushed away.

This Guyanese identity for many of us across the political and ethnic divide must be this casual approach to the hygiene near our delicious roadside food.

Another day at another stall there was rhythm and  smiles as the seller and the customer tapped a glass case to chase a fly out of it.

In Linden, there were no flies near the neat and tidy roadside booth. Bake and cheese with peppa and coffee in Styrofoam cup for breakfast while standing and chatting. Newspaper on the counter and we do this almost Universal thing, one person goes through the pages and we pick on the stories and headlines. The story of the man who stabbed the woman came up. The man killed the woman, stabbed her daughter and then apparently tried to stab himself. ‘He aint want fuh kill he self fuh real”.. he just had to go round hey and buy lil potash and duh would ah finish he off fuh good”.

More details of the story, the histories, the analysing followed by  “but dat is no reason fuh kill nobody”, the possibilities which come out of living and loving in a small place and which are not in the media because the details  are not in the public interest beyond a conversation over bake and cheese and coffee.

Another story , about the murder of another woman in Mahaica – “dey have nuff murder in Mahaica, dem people not easy.”

Three men in the last few days, killing the women they supposedly loved. Linden, Zeelugt, Mahaica.
I  wonder how many other men and boys thought of killing, or raping or beating the women around – the women who as one man told the women passing him “yall hurting me eye”.

President Granger addressed a seminar on domestic Violence at the Marriott Hotel.. The conference was organised by the acting Chancellor of the Judiciary. He talked about the need for respect for women and children, though it might be now that the elections are over, the men on the road not hearing any of this.

The Marriott Hotel, whose opening was boycotted by some then Opposition supporters was often given as an example of the Jagdeo corruption (“why dem aint build back Wales Estate instead of building Marriott?”)

The President of all Guyana probably does not have the luxury like me of rejecting invitations to the Marriott. The public was promised all kinds of details on the Marriott. The Marriott apparently is here to stay, unlike say President Ramotar who opened it and is now no longer President and the man from NICIL who found the money to build it who has been fired.

The Marriott is truly Guyanese now.

Another roadside, a primary school boy asked me  ‘Mister, Mister , you is American?” I  had shaved that day but I am sure that I did not look like Donald Trump. I said “No, I am Guyanese, what about you “ and he said “I is Guyanese”.

I asked him “What does being Guyanese mean” and he shrugged his shoulders, and another boy said “Don’t ask he sir, he aint know” and a girl said “I know I know it means he is born in Guyana”.

They did not bother with me when I tried to engage further on what else being Guyanese could mean.

A woman visiting Guyana asked ‘Do you like living in Guyana?”It is one of those awkward questions because if you answer ‘No’ – the next thing would be like ‘so why you don’t leave’ and if you say ‘Yes’ it means that something mussee wrong with you. “I make it liveable” is how I answered though it seemed like a cop out, like how say prisoners make their prisons liveable and then when time comes to be liberated from the prison, they go into depression because they cannot imagine alternative realities.

A man who managed to make Guyana liveable has to give up his business which he has had most of his working life since the economy is not doing good, and also “a car was following me again [he had been robbed before at his gate], they parked in my street.. we went to the police.. the stupid questions.. the run around.. they said they had the car, then they did not have the car..no wonder they can say crime down.. people just do not bother to report the crime.. people chain get snatch and all people could cuss and say is dat dey hope dat dey end up [dead ] pun Kaieteur News front page”

One of the Marriott invitations I rejected  was to the opening of a project dealing with crime and security. There is no indication that there is any programme of trying to research and understand the nature of crime and how the Happy Life for some is meant to be the unhappiness of others. And that perhaps, like the Marriott, Guyanese might have different attitudes to what is criminal and what is not criminal and what to do with the fruits of criminal enterprise.

But, rather than focus on the things which divide us, it would be good to think of the things which unite some of us like the ability to shoo flies away while enjoying cane juice and baiganee or eggball or whatever on the roadside.