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Showing posts from May, 2017

51 plus 1 adventurous tings to try in Georgetown if you are feeling bored..

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(Updated for the 52nd Independence... ) Carinya Sharples wrote a blog of 51 things to do in Georgetown and I got to thinking. I thought of all those people who might be stranded in Georgetown when on their way to great big adventure in the hinterland and came up with these tips for the tourism project. This might be useful for locals too who cannot afford to go into the hinterland for the adventure and are looking for things to do.    Build up a collection  religious tracts, literature . Awake/Watchtower/DailyWord/whatever. Go to one of the short time hotels. Tell the receptionist you are waiting on somebody. Everytime a couple comes in, give them a tract and tell them 'God is watching you.' If the receptionist tells you to stop, tell them that you will let everyone know that they have cameras in all the rooms. Join a noisy minibus. Ask the driver to turn the music down.  When the driver looks at you like if you are mad, start singing the National Anthem...

Sipping cold lime water while mixing roti on a rainy day..

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Is a rainy day to do nothing but the Universe dictates otherwise. The doing nothing is more in the mind though even though doing nothing is not the solution. Anxiety deep as mind is fumbling about the other things I said 'yes' to. Thinking of how things could go and mixing up things. But immediate here and now. Roti has to be mixed.  Mind can't focus and the hands can't move to take out the bowl and flours. Step back. Pour a bit of lime juice and cold water in the glass. Just a little. So I could sip because the sour is a kind of reminder of coming back to the present. There are times when I have not felt the sour but thankfully the sour is there. Sip. Mind thinking of the two things to write. Pour the wrong number of cups of flour and have to start over. I know it is stupid and I have a pang that I will throw the lime water in the bowl. I move it one side. I don't know how I can sip while both hands have to be used for kneading. Sip. Wait.. mind flow...

Coil: Gay rights, God, Ganja and Guyana at 51

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(Background logo share via Facebook. Creator Unknown) by Vidyaratha Kissoon “What are Hinduism’s views on the issue ” the young Christian man asked. Independence morning and the issue we were talking about was gay rights. He felt that Christians were under attack on social media. He did not like the ‘cuss outs’ and hoped for civil conversation. He did not understand why people would be upset at the Church. The Government had said that they will hold a referendum on gay right s and that legalizing homosexuality is a ‘sensitive issue’ . Guyana had shamed itself internationally. Guyana voted to stop the funding of an investigator in the United Nations system to report on the abuses of LGBT people around the world. Guyana voted with voted with countries like Indonesia , where gay men are whipped in public, and Saudi Arabia, where public funds are used to pay people to chop of heads and hands of citizens, or to flog those who write blogs against the regime. This i...

Dear phone bill...

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Dear phone bill I feel a kind of sadness as I look through the itemised list of numbers. The number of the loved one who used to call late on the way home and who I used to call back is not there. I remember when the calls had resumed after a period of shunning and I used to look at your predecessors just to know that I was not dreaming and also a reminder that it would have ended sometime as previous periods of calling did. I am glad I was able to call back when asked. Those calls are  further and further away in history. So I look at the bill, in a way it is the acceptance that the period of contact is over. I know I keep tense now.. hoping that there will no confrontation or the looks which will remind me of the shunning. I had a chance of redemption this week when another person who had cried at something I said made contact to request assistance. I know I was nervous in my response, trying long to type the emails so as not to create any problems. I look at the p...

Old ways, new ways, old ways....

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Day dawns with rain and I think right, chill out, do nothing as we have to do every now and then.. but then the Universe sends out its periodic reminder that doing nothing is a luxury and there is a lot to deal with. And find myself resorting to behaviours I thought I could move away from and celebrate.. to be detached and deal with the challenges, to not say anything and to not beg, to not feel the body clench up at the arguments which should not be happening. The promises of "I will stop.. " and "I will start.. " and "I will change.. " fall down like the flowers on the table but the flowers which fall are still beautiful unlike the promises which will no longer hold and I have to keep postponing the deadlines. Early morning phone call reminds you of past failure. Anxiety as a thing which was planned normally is not working out and the tension rises to make sure that the task is delivered. Will they pay me back? Will I deliver on the other thing...

Coil: Lost and found minds in Guyana

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by Vidyaratha Kissoon “Vidya, Granger must have lost his bloody mind.  It would have been better for him to not say anything.” said the young man who had welcomed President Granger and the Coalition Government in May 2015. We were talking about our despair at President Granger endorsement of the refusal of the Attorney General to apologise to Justice Franklin Holder. We had both agreed that President Granger was a nice man. We disagreed on a few other things. Many people had expected that the change in Government would close the period of chatree coolie and slap-and-striip-bheri kinds of issues. Mr Rashleigh Jackson was Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1990 when his son was arrested with marijuana. Desmond Hoyte was President. Minister Jackson resigned. These days, many countries, including Jamaica, have made moves to decriminalise marijuana. There are no memories of any other Minister coming close to being cited for contempt by any court in Guyana. Th...

3 different types of mango and the dying blue flower..

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The deep blue green flower bud was around and I had thoughts of seeing if I could plant its stem and let the roots come out but I know that will not be possible. The blue flower was there on a day when a donation of bottle, julie and turpentine mangoes end up in the house. The flesh of the bottle mango is white, the julie is pale  yellow and the turpentine is deeper yellow.  So I think it is nice to make a picture of all these four nice things and see a way to give words to trying to stay grateful for small nice things. Body is feeling sick as the glut of peanuts and other things is taking its toll.. but the peanuts still making their way into my mouth and crunch crunch. Why the hell can't I get the same relief from running or stretching or walking and walking and walking ..but grateful that it is peanuts and lot liquor or some narcotic ... Trying with words and ensuring connections with people are stable.. seeking humour.. being anxious all the time.. Will i see th...

Three men in love..

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"Uncle B is a loving big man." A said. "I feel bad.. I just had to pick up S and put he in de ambulance.. he drink a whole set of tablets in front of Uncle B." A had moved into the house with his childhood friend S and Uncle B. Uncle B is diabetic and one foot has an amputation. A had problems with his house and is waiting for it be fixed. Uncle B now lives in the family home alone. S used to come and weed the yard and do odd jobs around the neighbourhood.  S also stole from neighbours.  S also has friends who have been in jail. One elderly woman is scared in the night because S, when drunk, has threatened to attack her. He and his friends have stolen from her yard. A might not be one of the friends who steals. Uncle B's relatives have got police to put S out. S was in jail for a month. S moved in back.  Neighbours don't understand. While Uncle B was sick, S used to lift Uncle B up and down the steps and take him to clinic and so. S has been on a ...

Coil: Two years and counting..

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by Vidyaratha Kissoon Apologies and arcches.. 11 May 2017 . Two years after the elections which brought the coalition Government to power. The day was Social Cohesion Day. Citizens travelling on the East Coast were not feeling the social cohesion. They vented about about the traffic jam caused by Ansa McAl and the Ministry of Public Infrastructure. Ansa McAl was giving an arch to Guyana. They had to hurry up with the installation because big ones were going to be in Guyana. According to a Stabroek News article , Ansa Mcal and the Ministry did not ‘expect this”. A lot of coalition supporters have been saying this about many other things that the Government is doing or not doing. And ‘this’ is not about pleasant surprises. Ansa McAl and the Ministry of Public Infrastructure changed their plans and freed up the road. The damage was done already as with so many things which cannot be fixed with apologies. The frightening thing about the episode on...

Woman at the open gate who was not supposed to be there..

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Sun is setting and I am walking and rolling my shoulders trying to relax.  My stomach was queasy. I had walked out of the Indo Caribbean Feminist ThoughtBook launch . "Come and shake meh hand nah".. the woman I call Aunty asked. She was standing at the open gate. Dressed to go out, bright colours. I knew her since I knew myself. We shook hands. And hugged. I saw her earlier in the afternoon. She did not seem to remember. She put her hands on my beard.. 'Why you don't shave?" .. I said no man I like to be free.. I was trembling a bit as I said it as I thought of the oppression I had walked out from. The Vice-Chancellor who was at the podium to make his remarks before the launch of the book had asked people who were sitting in the back rows to move forward. I asked if I could remain as I might have to slip out. He insisted that he would not move unless we moved forward. "No man, you don't look good with that beard" she said.. as ...

passion fruit leaf bhaji?

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Woman wrote a blog about eating passion fruit leaves. Sherlina said she tried in dhal and it wasn't bad. I said alright leh me try a ting The leaves look nice. I taste some raw and it got nice tangy taste like how other raw bhaji types taste.  I cut up the leaves fine fine.  I put a bit of water in the frying pan and heat it. I throw in the leaves and watch as the leaves dry down quick quick.  It is like spinach. I wait for it to cool to taste it. Texture is strange. Chewing it and chewing it and the juices are coming out, but the fibre is still there , unlike spinach.  And the juices not as nice as the passion fruit juice.  I wonder if I had boiled it down with some coconut milk. Apparently, they make sambal with the passion fruit leaf.  Eaten  raw with lime juice and pepper and so.

Coil: Fish glue, kite prices , press freedom…

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by Vidyaratha Kissoon “De glue, de glue.. “ the fish vendor used to tell me as he threw the fish bladder into a bucket. He hinted at ‘runnings’ when I asked what they used it for. I got the impression that Fish glue was used somehow in the cocaine trade. The fish vendor it seemed did not ask any questions and did not challenge my assumptions. The big arrest in 2007 confirmed for me that fish glue to package the cocaine. Or something like that. A student did an online journalism assignment on the fish bladder/glue trade from Guyana. Fish glue is used for looking after the skin and other things. There is an export market to China. The fish glue is really not about cocaine. But the way stories work, the current Google search results for ‘fish glue guyana’ show the cocaine story. There are some generated links to places which might have fish glue from Guyana but they do not seem to lead to any more stories. How much does fish glue export contribute to the...

For women who walk and run and dance and fight barefoot in their saris..

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The programme said 'Sari Parade' by the beauty pageant descendants of the labourers from India. who walked barefoot, sometimes to great mockery of those who wore shoes Earlier in the day, the artist explained that her costumes she designed, simple ones she said imagining what the labourers wore and came with , were due to her memories of the Miss Diwali Sari Parade which she did not think was a beauty pageant like the others with intelligence segment and things like that. So she designed the costumes which she named after the Hindu deities imagining how it must have been for people far from India creating and decorating their own clothing The saris were beautiful.. I have never seen an ugly sari. I don't know if there is a right way and a wrong way to wear a sari . Lots of women wear saris.. though  I know one woman who didn't wear them after her wedding because she said it was uncomfortable and restrictive. She had done many things quietly in her life to chall...

Women who can't wash the lunch bowl for their mother-in-law's only son

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"A gyal nah do wuk.. watch, me son lunch bowl ,, yuh know how i' a smell.. me show how ahm how fuh wash am, couple day she wash am and den same ting. me gah fuh wash am back.." Squeezed up tight in the front row of the minibus as two of Sita's daughters talk about the girls who come in their son's lives to 'tek dem away'.  The woman is talking loud to her friend. They have known each other for years from when they used to take their sons as babies to the clinic. Driver in front and lady in passenger seat looking at each other. The woman conducting the bus looking like she want to talk but she not saying anything. I squeezing my mouth shut tight. "Me tell ahm fuh fin' a wuk so meh son nah gah fuh pay fuh everything , she tell me she a wuk wid she daady. ... me son seh wan rich gal.. me nah wan rich gal" "Yuh right.. rich gal nah do wuk, poor gal a do wuk.. " "A gyal a guh wid am all ova.. he a go cut he hair, she...

Dear guavas..

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Dear guavas You are unexpected since the tree fell down and I thought it would have died. It is nice to see you though of course the birds are getting to you first before I could unless I eat you slightly green rather than that nice sweet juicy ripe to slightly over ripe. It is easy to miss you because in the light, your colour is like the leaves. I know your leaves are also supposed to be good but such a lesson of remembering to be alert in a different ways.. not only in anticipation and in anxiety for the different kinds of things which make the body tense, but also for the small brief moments of nice ness. I found a sweet passion fruit amid the other mundane ones .. passion fruit is so difficult to see through. Pineapples too.. some could be good , some bad and from outside it is difficult to know. But guavas.. you know.. once you get to the colour, and your skin is intact (or even if we cut around the bird pick).. you never fail to satisfy. There is an irony in trying...

Dear wound up spring...

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You are all over my body. I let you in as a way of ducking and avoiding difficult situations and trying to prepare for multiple things. I know there are good ways to release you and let you go , but I am eating all the time and it requires an empty stomach to get rid of you completely. Every single thing now requires a consideration and what if.. and should I. Things which used to be easy take more time and are harder and as a result the nervousness and anxiety about doing them result in you being present all the time.  Simple invitation on Facebook to a nice thing generates the anxiety associated . Would the loved one who used to call on the way home and who expressed fear be there? What would I do when I see the eyes with the contempt/fear in them? What would I do when we pass each other as though we are strangers when we are not strangers ? And you wind up tighter and tighter as a different person a long time ago would just go anywhere and do anything and be able to face al...