I miss the cold. Sure, the rain makes it chilly here, and we really rejoice if we are cold enough to put on long sleeves or get a second sheet for the bed. But, I miss the COLD. Needing a scarf, wearing cute coats, socks and shoes, eating soup to warm up, wanting hot chocolate, not to satisfy your choco-addiction, but because it’s cold! Needing your husband to keep you warm….
My friend had a picture up on Facebook of a snow hike. The same time, last weekend, we hiked. We don’t often ‘hike’, because hiking isn’t like back home. Hiking in the savannah is like wandering in the dessert. The savannahs are open grassy plains, and under the Guyana sun (we’re 4 degrees from the Equator, if I guess from the map) it is HOT. So, hiking is more like baking. But, we did it Saturday. That was all I did for the whole weekend – Saturday night and Sunday I just rested to recover from my exhaustion. We climbed the Aishalton mountain, or hill as it should rightly be called. It does give you a nice view, of the Savannahs, the village, and the Kanuku mountains in the distance. We went up with our neighbors and friends. Suffice to say, the 7 year olds fared better than the 18 year olds, and the 18 year olds fared better than us 26 year olds. And, the 26 year olds barely fared better than the old mamas. We ate a full breakfast, and started off with the clouds as our friends. We reached to top, had a full lunch – rice, beans, fahrine (local staple made from cassava), beef, and limeade. It was on the way back down, after noon, that the clouds broke and the sun started to bear down. I had sweat trickling in all kinds of new places. The water bottles finished, some people’s sandals broke, and our clothes started to soak in our sweat. We made it home, went promptly to the creek, and bathed. Lovely cool, creek water. We are recovered now, with the help of some foot massages, more limeade and water, and hammock naps on Sunday.
It is so hot here. I have no weather channel and no thermometer. When I talk to people back home, they ask how hot it is here. They’re wondering if it is 85 or 95. If I had to guess, upper 90s most days, but it doesn’t seem to matter to me anymore. I used to check weather.com every morning before school or work. I loved planning a cute rainstorm outfit with my rain boots or planning to wear my scarf or a short sleeve shirt with a cardigan. Now, you just wear your high-tech performance clothing or linen. Everyday. I can't wait for a real winter....
We understood that by signing up for Peace Corps, we might be living a rural, electricity-less village life. And, thankfully, that’s what we got. (Plenty volunteers have electricity, refrigerators, fans, lights, TVs, running water, the whole 9 yards…) We, however, are one of a handful of volunteers in Guyana who are living in very remote villages, complete with difficult transportation, no phone service, and no electricity. So, that leaves us relying on kerosene lanterns and flashlights after 6pm. It hasn’t been bad… It feels a bit natural and woodsy to be in sync with the spinning of the world and the cycles of the moon.
Back in March, our building was finally wired to be powered by the generator that was running from 6pm-9pm each evening. That felt like a blessing, because that huge generator is right across the street from our home and was spewing it’s loud rumbles AND diesel pollution right into our house, but we hadn’t been getting any of the benefits. So, for a blissful week and a half, we were wired. We plugged in our computers, charged our rechargeable AA batteries, and played music. We sat in the lights, with the newfound freedom to cook after 6pm! Then, a week and a half later, the loud, stinky generator quit. And, for the last 9 months, various parts have been brought in attempts to fix it.
The part is coming…
The part is being calibrated…
A back up is on the way…
Various excuses we heard for 9 months while the hospital, school dorms (100 children, no lights), police station, and we sat in the dark.
Then, last week, a glorious new generator showed up. And, hallelujah, it’s being housed in a different location. So, we get all the benefits – lights and electricity – and none of the stinky pollution. We are in our second and a half week of having electricity here in Aishalton. Only 4 hours, 5pm-9pm, but it is amazing. We no longer have to beg shop owners and others to charge our things. We can watch movies! (Only in May did we attain a laptop that shows movies – thanks Parents-in-law!) We can cook dinner in the light! Such a nice surprise to come along, we had pretty much given up on it.
Now, I hate TV. I hate television shows, I hate the way people latch on to television shows. I think it is just a massive conspiracy to keep us all stupid and shopping. Now, I make my one exception for The Office, which my mom has been so sweet to send us seasons 5 and 6 that we’ve missed, Congrats Jim and Pam! We just saw the wedding…..
Mostly, we were watching movies, as they are quite cheap here in Guyana. But then somehow we picked up the first season of show from several years back – Prison Break.
Oh
My
Gosh.
I can’t sleep. I dream Prison Break. Sleep Prison Break. Think Prison Break. I love it. It’s a pretty terrible show – the acting weak, the plot line unbelievable. But, it is incredibly addicting. The drama is through the roof. I got hooked. Never heard of it? It’s about a man wrongly accused of murder and sitting on death row in a max security prison. His brother, a genius architect, gets himself thrown into prison just to Break His Brother OUT. It’s crazy. Anyway, we’re addicted. Like hopeless television addicts. Ugh…. No more TV shows for this girl.
Lord help me if I ever become like this over The Bachelor, Lost, or Grey’s. No, no, no.
Curt and Silvio working together:
Joanna is a bit shy, here she's hiding behind the ite palm: (The thatched roof you see in the background is also made from the same ite palm, it's just been dried).
James advices Elenie:
And it was full of hard little bits, we couldn't use it :(After an intensive few days from Roanoke > New York > Georgetown > Iwokrama > Lethem > Road to Aishalton, we finally reached around 10pm Friday. That left us with only 4 days in Aishalton. Chris and I felt really good about sharing where we live, our work, and our experiences with family. It was nice to have someone see the well where we pull our water from, to eat the pizza we made in our little brick oven, and to meet our neighbors, coworkers, and friends. It was funny to watch them washing their clothes in the creek and see mom teaching 10 kids how to play Spoons, the card game. Honestly, we just had a good time together and completely forgot to take out the camera. I realize now that was a mistake. How nice it would have been to have a momento – a snapshot of mom in the creek, or Stephen with his new friend, Dell, or all of us eating dinner for our neighbor’s birthday. Whoops.
On the other hand, I have been thinking about cameras and photographs. And, I think they can really remove you a layer from a situation. A camera keeps you (on some level) from experiencing the moment and puts into documenting mode. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, but it can be. So, I am sorry I don’t have more pictures to share. But, I am a little glad I just enjoyed my time with mom and Stephen without being too worried about documenting it for all to see.
When it was time to leave Aishalton, there was more disaster. As I’ve said, transportation here is… Awful. Terrible. No good. Very bad. All I’ll say is that mom and I were sitting inside an old vehicle that no longer worked, which was being taken back to Lethem inside of a gigantic Bedford. So, we faced out the back in old vehicle seats. And then the rain started. Our little old vehicle offered some protection, but there was no back window, so we got wet. Bless Stephen, who was standing in the back of the Bedford, and got soaked. Then, the river was high and we couldn’t cross. It was a long day and a long night. It was expensive and uncomfortable, but we got ourselves back to Georgetown in time for mom and Stephen to make their flight.
Did they have a ‘good’ time? I think you’ll have to ask them. Are they glad they came? I’m sure of it. They saw a part of the world few Americans see. They got see their amazing daughter and son in law. They also go a bit more of an adventure than we had planned on. When I tell people how crazy the trip went they say “Oh, but look at all the stories they can tell.” Ugh…. A bit like telling someone who’s been through a horrible experience that “It all works out for the best.” Not exactly untruth, but not exactly the most relevant response. All I can say is, Thanks to mom and Stephen for coming. Thanks for putting up with all the mishaps and not once complaining and not once getting stressed out. It was great to have you here. Excited to see you when we get home. J
