I’ve been out of Aishalton for 6 days. We’ve been here in Georgetown, Guyana’s capital city, and only sizable city. It is the polar opposite of Aishalton. It is on the coast, Aishalton is in the Deep South interior. It is a large city, Aishalton is a small village. It has traffic, trash, and rude people, Aishalton has bull carts, farms, and quiet Amerindians. (I kind of want to go back). Aishalton represented what we have lost in most places in the world… simplicity, contentment, and peace. Replaced by complexity, a desire for stuff, and stress.
In a whirlwind, you’re taken from there and placed in Georgetown with a list of things to do. While running around the city, it is a bit too easy to be nostalgic about Aishalton. But the world goes on and we move towards returning home.
What we’ve accomplished so far this week:
ü Written our Official DOS: A two-page Description of Service – all our project goodness condensed into a two page report.
ü Turned in a big cardboard box full of Peace Corps books, papers, CDs, and stuff they told us we’d use in our two years. (We really didn’t).
ü Bought cream cheese and whole wheat crackers to snack on!
ü Called UPS and FEDEX to find out about shipping our stuff home, only to find out they don’t ship crafts… “What about hammocks?” I asked…. They don’t ship cloth…. “What do you ship?” I asked… They ship paper. Documents. Electronics. TIG.
ü Finished final reporting for our work and my grant for the Learning Resource Centre
ü Caught up on US News…. Holy moly! Glad I didn’t get that federal job….
ü Had a physical to make sure I’m healthy enough to go home and nothing ongoing from being in Peace Corps. Everything looked good.
ü Went to the dentist to have my teeth and gums attacked by two dental agents with pricks, sucking machines, and gooey fluoride stuff. I’m not really a believer in fluoride and after they stuck it in my mouth and told me not to eat or drink for 30 minutes, I ran outside and spit it out. I think I must have grown up with the best dentist in the world. I’m going to him when I get back!
ü Planned our trip to Oregon and California. So happy I’m gonna see the west coast! We’re going to ride a train and eat healthy local food and take public transit (we don’t have licenses!). We’ve lived without a car for two years, we can do it for two more weeks!
ü Eaten pizza, Paninis, burgers, and milkshakes (We’re adjusting for our return to the states!)
ü Stalked the internet for design ideas, homes in Asheville, NC, jobs, music, news and of course, Rebecca Black.
ü Done most of it in the confides of sealed-air-conditioned offices and hotel room. Taken hot showers. My soul might be happy, but my skin is itchy and dry.
Getting ready to leave Georgetown (finally!) to go back to where our training was two years ago… The Essequibo coast to visit volunteers and our host family. Then it’s Peace Corps’ 50th anniversary party net week and heading to the land of customer service and efficiency!
We’ve been here two years!
Our two year anniversary of being in Guyana coinciding with Mashramani is pretty awesome! What a celebration. Even in our far-away village, people came out to celebrate the patriotic holiday. We dressed in red, green, yellow, black, and white, danced and marched and sang and ate and played.
Tuesday night was a special concert that featured dances from the Aishalton Culture Group. Also, ladies from my dance group danced “Waka Waka.” It is such a fun song! And a pretty fun dance too, kudos to the choreographer! ;-) Here's Tonica and I dancing.
The next morning was the parade. The clouds blessed us with coverage. Parades in small villages are the best! It is not something to go and see, because there simply aren’t enough people for an audience! So, everyone dresses up, marches and dances down the road to the blasting music coming off the 2 vehicles. A few people have fancy costumes, most wear Guyana’s colors, and wave flags and other homemade decorations.
We couldn’t carry Kanaimuu this year – she walked and marched and danced though. Without planning it, I inevitably ended up wearing the same clothes. (That’s what happens when you only have 2 suitcases worth of clothes, and you just happened to bring yellow pants).
Grannys come out to celebrate to! And they're always prepared - the umbrella just in case!
Aaaaaaaaaand, the village Americans get decked out:
I'm a bit in love with Camille:
Sisters! And their beautiful flowers.
After the parade and celebration at the sports ground, the sun broke through the clouds and the heat bore down. It got HOT. Did I mention it is hot here? So, some crazy people started playing football (soccer) but Chris and I felt the pull of the hammock. We went back home for a nap in the hammock. After I woke up, I decided it was time to celebrate our two years away from home properly.
Something American was needed. Something we had really missed. I remembered we bought a bag of chocolate chips when we were in Georgetown in January. Cookies! How perfect?? Some of you know, my favorite thing in life is chocolate chip cookies. Yum!
So, we made cookies. Not normal Kristin-style where I just shake some baking powder into the bowl, estimate the amount of butter, and throw in some sugar. These were going to be perfect. Never mind that I don’t have measuring spoons and cups. I guessed which of our spoons was a teaspoon, picked a mug to be a ‘cup’ of flour, and used real vanilla that mom had sent. I beat the butter and sugar by hand for a long time, measured and mixed. Then, for the real treat. Since we don’t have an oven, we normally ‘bake’ cookies by cooking then in a shallow fry pan and flip them over halfway through; but this time, we carried our gas bottle to our neighbor’s oven, hooked it up, and baked our cookies in a real oven!
Wowza! They turned out good. They rose and cooked to perfection. They weren’t flat like my cookies normally turn out. They were amazing. We shared a few and ate a few. Well, we ate so many we didn’t end up making dinner. We had cookies for dinner. And it was good. What a perfect day to celebrate two years away and two years here. A parade and cookies.
Two years.
730 days.
24 months.
The amount of time since I’ve seen America.
We left Roanoke last year, February 22nd and flew to Philadelphia to begin our Peace Corps experience. Here we are 2 years ago:
We flew out of New York the night of February 23rd, overnight and landed in Guyana at 7am on February 24th. Funny, we missed Mashramani, Guyana’s biggest and most colorful holiday, which takes place on February 23rd and celebrates the day Guyana became a republic. It is my favorite holiday. We’ll be celebrating tonight and tomorrow, here’s a picture from last year:
As with any overnight flight, we arrived exhausted. As with any time you sign up to leave your home and live in a country you didn’t exactly knew existed a few months ago, we were a bit nervous. We left a bitterly cold winter in New York, frozen on an air-conditioned flight, and stepped off the plane in a tropical paradise. Well, the paved parking lot of the airport in tropical paradise. It was HOT. 7am, and it was HOT. We stripped off layers. We were given coconuts to drink, and Guyana necklaces to wear. Peace Corps staff looked confident and in charge. We were hot, but we felt alright. We took out our very expensive camera to take pictures. The lens fogged up bad. We wiped it off. It fogged up. We wiped it off. It fogged up. (It was HOT). Shoot! We thought, all this money and this place is too dang hot and humid to use it! (Turns out the camera was just cold from the plane. Later it warmed up and all was fine.)
The next few days and months are a blur of Peace Corps training, wilting in the heat, celebrating new holidays, trying to learn Creoles, living on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, and eating strange food. It was all very Caribbean –the people were descendents of Africans and Indians, loud Soca music, cricket, and colorful homes (Guyana is much more a part of the Caribbean than South America – especially since they speak English). Suddenly, we found out we were going to spend the next two years in a small Amerindian village at the other end of the country. A few miles from Brazil, traditional people, grassy plains, rainforest, mud-and-thatch homes, and football (soccer).
Aishalton feels like South America. Sometimes like Africa. Our training didn’t much prepare us for our site. We didn’t know much about Toshaos (chiefs), Village Councils, traditional law, indigenous people’s rights and land titles. I’ve learned so much! We are further away from the coast than any other volunteers. Peace Corps wanted a married couple to go the most remote village, so we could support each other. Well, we were here. And it didn’t feel like home, not for months.
When we tried to leave Aishalton to pick up our paycheck, we were shocked by the effort and time it took to get transportation. We bounced along unpaved roads on the top of a load of goods. We crossed right through flowing rivers. Over broken bridges. Through puddles as deep as rivers.
When we tried to buy greens to cook for dinner, everyone told us there were none. We scrounged and scavenged, and found greens only a couple times a week. When we suggested new ideas at work, people passed right over them.
Volunteers love giving other volunteers advice. Some said ‘give it 4 months to see if you like it’ others said after 6 months it would feel home-y. Yes, 4-6 months seemed to be how long it took everyone to settle in. I remember Christmas 2009, we were 8 months in, and I didn’t feel settled. What was wrong?
Then January and February 2010. I developed stronger friendships, we found a place in the village to watch movies at night, and people started sharing their farm produce with us. Something clicked. I felt much more comfortable. I found more freedom in my job. It started to feel ‘right.’
Now, we are two years in. We still have 2 more months. I’m trying to stay focused. I’m thankful the grant came though so I’ve been crazy busy working on the Learning Resource Centre. Which is functioning! I’m a librarian! People are reading! Who doesn’t love accomplishment?
When I thought about a ‘we haven’t been in America in two years’ blog, I thought I’d write about all the things I hadn’t had, hadn’t done, hadn’t eaten, and hadn’t seen in two years. But, honestly, I can’t think of very many things. And the few I could think of, I didn’t really want to have them again anyway.
Most volunteers go home once or twice during their service. They go to see friends’ weddings, family births, or for the Christmas feast. We haven’t been home. Mainly for the money – who can afford it?!?! But, also it’s been a fun challenge to go two years without the comforts of America. It has absolutely sucked to miss Lindsay’s wedding, several babies’ births, and especially Christmases, not to mention all the birthdays, holidays, and totally normal days with friends and family. But, hopefully we’ll have long and happy lives to make up for time missed.
So, two years. Have you missed me?
