The Two Week Warning

I am leaving in about two weeks’ time, yet it doesn’t feel like it.  I am busy as always, finishing things up, making the most of my time.  Sleep is starting to become optional.  I’d rather spend as much time with people as I can.  I walk the streets here comfortable, like I’ve been here for a while; I have been here a good while but only a blip in the terms of my life.  I watch people, the woman at the shop tending to customers, children making fun of each other on their bikes; it will all go on when I am gone.  People will continue to do the same things they have always done.  The only difference is that I will no longer be here.  At this moment, I can’t imagine what it will be like to not be coming back here, it hasn’t sunk in yet and I’m not sure when it will.  Actually, I’m a little frightened of that moment to be honest.  I’m at a point where I know it is coming, I know it is going to hurt, there is nothing that makes me want to leave, but still my next adventure is calling me so it is time to go.

I think your eyes are open widest when you are seeing a place for the first time and then for the last time.  When I first got here I was making observations, trying to figure out what it all meant, what people were doing, learning what sights and sounds should be familiar.  Now it makes sense.  I have to keep myself from laughing sometimes because I recognize certain things as “so Guyanese,” things that only really happen when you live here.   Yet I’m still meeting new people and every time I do new doors open to things I haven’t seen before.  And I thought two years was a long time.   We had our Close of Service Conference at the end of January, which was supposed to be a reflective, emotional time to say good bye to each other and hang out. Unfortunately, a crazy stomach bug struck, reminding us that even after two years, life in Guyana is still unpredictable and it still can be tough to get by sometimes.  I think that is another reason why leaving doesn’t quite seem real.  Our COS didn’t really seem like a COS.  I also have been working like normal.  I’m finishing up my courses at school, and will probably work until the last week I’m here.  I am not one to sit around and take a long time to pack.  If I sit alone for too long you might as well buy me boxes of tissues because all I will do is cry for a good portion of the time.  I really don’t like doing that so I try to remain busy and if I don’t acknowledge things too much, it isn’t really happening.  IGNOREance is bliss right?

I was away from site for a bit with a whole set of doctors and dentist appoints you have to go through with COS stuff.  Goodness!  I was pretty ready to get back after my medical appointments and follow-ups kept me out of my site for 6 days.  I ended up getting 8 moles removed, which I would have thought to be a minor procedure, but I was admitted to the hospital for the day.  I went to the OR (Operation Theatre here), got stiches for the first time, and everything.  It did make me very excited that I will be doing nursing in the fall, so I will actually know what things are and proper procedures for things.  It definitely was an interesting experience and I have realized that I will never make a good patient.  It was really hard to let a nurse walk me to a place or listen to her when I should have been lying down in bed.  Normally, I like to take care of people, so it was really weird to have someone assisting me.

Despite trying to wind things down, I feel like they are winding up in a way. I attended a mini-BRO (Brothers Reaching Others) a boy’s leadership camp in Linden.  I was very excited to be a part of this because it symbolizes the start of a next venture for the Gender and Development Taskforce.  We have put on girl’s camps and a large boy’s camp is our next step.  It is just really cool to see something you have thought about and planned for become a reality.  It shows me that we have made some amazing strides in this area.    I also got the GLOW girls from my area together for a little party.  We made pizzas, cookies, and watched movies.  It was just a fun day to hang out, relax, and reminisce a bit about camp.  It also helps to keep our network of girl strong and encourages them to support one another, plus I love hanging out with them and seeing what they are up to.   

One of my most recent moments that really just astounded me (in a good way) was the training I led for the Cancer Society.  We all recognized that the members wanted training so that they too could give health talks about cancer and improve their own knowledge; we just never found a good time to do it.  Since I am leaving so soon, we finally arranged a date.  I asked the President to call the members and tell them I would bring a snack as a somewhat motivator for them to come out.  Normally, we get a handful of members at our meetings and I really expected the same amount.  When I arrive at the meeting, there were over 15 members there ready for the training.  I couldn’t believe it!  I am not sure if it was because I am leaving, because they were threatened (a joke), or what, but I was impressed.   Even more encouraging, all members listened and interacted for over two hours!  I made macaroni and cheese, hot dogs, and cookies as a dinner / reward for the hard work they put into the session.  They were all so excited about the information and I think about having the tools now to go help others.  These women are simply community members that care about raising awareness about cancer and their willingness to learn simply humbled me in an inexplicable way.  I had to hide the tears that came to my eyes when we were closing our meeting because I was so proud and touched by each and every member.  One older woman came up and gave me a hug, a kiss on the cheek and dashed away in smiles. 

I never intended to make great waves being here, to build anything great, or to be rewarded and praised for doing a whole set of things.  I only brought some knowledge that I learned through my studies and was willing to put the time and energy into working with who ever wanted to learn.  I always remember a slide in one of my lectures that says “health promotion is not done to, on or at people, but rather by working with people.”  This might have been one of my top moments here, working with these women so that they can do something big. 

Two weeks and I will no longer be a PCV, I will embark on a next journey that will surely include finding ways to keep these moments I’ve had in Guyana alive. 

I think I will have one last post before I head out.    Spring better don come out der up North cuz me not able wit all dem snow storms up der budday… :-)

-KB

Walking

I need to walk; walking is what I need to do.

So I am walking there, not catching a ride.

Walking is what I need to do because I need to catch the sun; I need those rays to warm my bones because they have become far too cold and brittle.

If I don’t walk, I won’t catch this sun and I’m afraid I will crumble into the very dust I am trying to walk on. 

I need to walk; walking is what I need to do.

So I am walking there, not catching a ride.

I have grown stiff and numb, passive in an active environment.  Walking will warm my muscles, so that every sinew sparks with heat, so that I can ignite a fire. 

If I don’t walk, my fire will not blaze; I will not emanate light and warmth, but sit cool and rigid, becoming an object that is affected.

I need to walk; walking is what I need to do.

So I am walking there, not catching a ride.

I need to feel my feet tap the pavement, each piece of gravel pressing itself into my foot.  I need to hear the rhythm of my steps to move my brain and awaken my mind.

If I don’t walk, my mind will remain stale, holding on to every sight or sound, letting them sit and  ferment until my brain is inebriated simply by being.

I need to walk; walking is what I need to do.

So I am walking there, not catching a ride.

I need my pores to open wide and release the things they've been holding on to, to feel sweat trickle down my face, its salinity reminding me of my thirst.

If I don't walk, my soul will not breathe, it will remain trapped by burdens, likely to succumb to the growing weight.

I need to walk; walking is what I need to do.

So I am walking there, not catching a ride, so that I can feel alive again.

To Suriname and Back

  

As I mentioned before, I took a very short trip to Suriname for New Years.  We took a ferry across the Coretyne River and found ourselves in a completely different country.  The landscape looked pretty much the same, but language, supermarkets, cars, houses were pretty different.  When the boat reached Suriname, there was a mad sprint to get off the boat.  I had never seen Guyanese move with such speed!  All of a sudden I heard something that sounded like gunshots and saw uniformed officers up ahead.  I froze and tried to make sense of what was going on.  Then I heard cheering and realized the Surinamese border patrol lit off fireworks to celebrate New Year’s and to play a prank on the normal passengers who sprint to get a good spot in the customs line. 

Of course we thought we outsmarted everyone.  We took our time coming off the boat and went directly into the duty free shop to view some of the very inexpensive spirits for purchase.  We were amazed by small cups of wine and meandered around the selection for a while.  We probably entertained ourselves for a good 30 minutes and then decided to go through customs.  Much to our dismay, the line was still incredibly long!  It barely moved and it seemed like our plan completely backfired.  The only good thing is that we did have our mini solo wine cups, so we, being the very end of the line decided to have a seat and enjoy a glass of wine.  Only in Suriname would this be possible.  An hour and a half later, we were officially cleared to enter the country. 

We hopped on a bus and spent 4 hours viewing the scenery or catching a nap while the bus zoomed along towards the capital city, Paramaribo.  We were completely amazed when we reached.  The city was very organized, clean, and reflected its colonial past.  It seemed like we had teleported to one of the historic districts in Boston.  Our hotel was also super nice.  We were dressed for travel, with large packs and t-shirts, not like the swanky patrons of the hotel.  A few of us tried to blend in / disappear because we were cramming about 6 into our two person room, PC style.  We were excited to take a hot shower, check out the hotel casino, and ring in the New Year.  A few volunteers and I decided to forage for some food out in the city.  This is when danger struck.  Normally, I don’t carry much with me walking around in Guyana, or anywhere if I don’t have to.  Since we had just arrived, I had yet to empty my wallet of important items, such as my passport or camera.  We got some chicken and chips and I was on a busy, fairly well lit road a few steps from the entrance of our hotel. 

I feel like I was a bystander witnessing the whole thing, if only that were the case.  Some teenage boy yanked my purse off of my wrist and took off running. I was really angry but decided it was a lost cause.  My fellow volunteer on the other hand took off running, so I followed the pursuit.  When I caught up to him, he had a boy by the arm, but he was not the one with my things.  Luckily there was a police station nearby so I went in and filed a report.  I was more annoyed than anything else, but was determined not to let it get me down.  We joined everyone else back at the hotel and relayed the story to them.   My friends pointed out that I still had the box of chicken and chips I had purchased.  I hadn't even realize that I had been chasing bandits with one hand holding up my tube dress and the other clutching a bag of chicken and chips!  Clearly I have my priorities straight. 

We ended up ringing in the New Year on the roof top of our hotel watching the whole city erupt in colorful fireworks.  One display was right in front of us so the fireworks were bursting at our eye level.  It was really just mesmerizing.  After we went out and danced til 5am.  Overall, it was a fun night and a perfect way to ring in the New Year.  We slept until almost 2pm and then were craving food.  Unfortunately, being a holiday NOTHING was open!  This was also bad for me because I was looking into getting a replacement passport so I could go back to Guyana the next morning.  Somehow we found out McDonalds was the only food place opening at 4pm.  I haven’t been to a McDonalds since High School, but we were SO hungry, anything would do at that point.  It was like a scene out of a zombie horror film.  Hoards of hungry tourists were descending upon the only open food place in the city.  We happily ate our food and I was quickly reminded why I've stayed away from the place for so long, but at least we were full.

 When I got back to the hotel, I witnessed a New Year’s miracle.  An officer was there with ALL of my things!  Camera, passport, phone, everything!  I couldn’t believe it.  I had to go down to the station to make a statement that my stuff had returned but it was all there.  I could have hugged all the officers at the station.  We spent the rest of the night watching movies and drank wine in our comfy hotel room and then headed out the next morning for the bus and ferry back to Guyana.  It was a short trip, a very eventful one at that, but thankfully it all ended well.

I now have about a week until our Close of Service conference (COS), seven weeks left in Guyana, and 3 months until I return to the U.S.  I am going crazy figuring out everything for this move while still trying to enjoy and do work like normal.  It isn’t easy!  I also accidentally spent out most of my money in Suriname so have about $10 to live on for the next 10 days.  That is about $1 a day, which is about the world poverty level.  $1 a day can go pretty far here in Guyana, but only in terms of feeding one person.  Bills, rent, gas, traveling would never allow you to make it on that.  I think it is good that Peace Corps tries to get you as close to what it is really like to be an average host country national but it will never be the real thing.  I can live on $1 a day and say I’m doing an experiment, but that is all it is.  I can maybe “feel” what it is like to live on that level, it can be a “challenge” for me but the key word is experiment.  It is much different to know you have nothing, no one is coming to save you, and you can’t just go back somewhere and work or ask a friend of family member for an extra few dollars.    When you are living in poverty, these options have already been exhausted and you are where you are.  Sure you can try to understand, but you will never really know unless you are in that situation.  In Peace Corps, we might complain about things, how hard it is to get things done, whatever whatever, but at the end of the day, we are going back to a very different place.  Sure we have to deal with things for the two years we are here, but people that live here have to deal with these things their whole lives. 

Alright probably only a few more updates left from Guyana.   I’ll keep you posted!

-KB

The Year of Transition

I’m a planner.  I might not look like it, I might be a hot mess sometimes, but somewhere at the heart of it all, there is a method to the madness.  In fact, I can be absolutely meticulous, as long as I have the time to sit down and focus on things for a while. Unfortunately, in Guyana and most of my life, having extensive time to sit down seems to evade me for the most part.  I like to be busy, to be out there.  If I wake up early, it means I can run or exercise a bit longer.  If my schedule is looking a little thin, I will ask for more to do or plan some sort of activity.  Even if I turn up, sweating, out of breath, with a whirlwind of bags, papers, or food, swirling in the midst, I don’t mind.  It’s pretty typical actually. 

I had gone home to recharge and I certainly needed it.  Especially because this last leg of my journey here is going to require a lot of me to get through to the end.  Two months, that is all.  All I have to finish my projects, to plan my backpacking trip, to finish my Master’s work, to complete forms to finish my service and to enroll in nursing school.  Not to mention grappling with good bye.  I am starting to feel like I am bi-polar.  Some moments I get so excited about my next set of plans and then the next moment I’m almost in tears thinking about all the things I am going to miss.  I want to stand still, just for a moment and find some way to figure out the meaning of this whole experience.  However, I am on slippery footing, likely to wash away at any moment as the tides turn.  My calendar said two years just a minute ago but it seems the words fell off the page and now reads: “months.” 

But alas, I am a planner and somehow things seem to be going on as planned.  In fact, I think I have every week pretty much planned out until the end of next year.  It seems amazing, to know what I will be doing and I have some pretty great adventures planned for next year.  It’s also completely opposite as to how I’ve been living the past two years.  I’ve enjoyed the spontaneity of things here, how every week is different.  The other week I was mashed up in a hammock for 6 hours on an overnight boat ride to help with a camp in a remote village.  I met adorable, curious children, played sports with them, bathed in black water to wash off the day’s work, bonded with the other volunteers at night, entertaining ourselves with the lack of current.  It hasn’t all been like that, but there is always the possibility, which definitely keeps you going.  

I went on speedboats, buses, and cars to go celebrate Christmas with other volunteers and then with my host family after that.  I always feel at home with my host family and it is so nice to stay by them.  We just relax, my host mom is an AMAZING cook, so I end up eating a lot of good food, and we gaff.  

I also visited Suriname for New Years with some other volunteers, which was another great adventure.  I got to know the police there quite well, restored my faith in humanity, and was reminded that even if you have it all planned out, there is always the unexpected.  But that is a story for another day.

2012 was certainly the year of new adventures and change.  2013 I already knew would be the year to set up plans for the future and 2014 seems to be shaping up to a busy year of transition.  I will be leaving Guyana, traveling around South America and parts of the U.S., doing pre-req classes, finding a summer job, then moving to Baltimore and starting a rigorous nursing program at Johns Hopkins.  Who knew moving back home after two years would be so complex!   I am extremely excited for every bit of it and also think I might be a bit mad for piling on so many things.  I know nursing will allow me to do so much in the future, traveling is one of my favorite things, and seeing friends and family again will be nice.  The plan is in place and I am sure I will show up to things as my typical whirlwind self.  The only thing that does scare me is that everything seems so planned compared to this spontaneous life I’ve been living.  I’m worried that when I finally have a moment to realize what has happened, I will find myself in the middle of a road, cars swerving around me, zooming towards where ever it is they are going.  It is a road that I used to look at from a far, with inner conflict as to whether I should be on it too.  Ultimately, I won’t know how I’ll feel about it until I get there.  I have planned a whole set of things before and have somehow made an adventure out of everything, so I think I will be okay.

I hope everyone has had a VERY Happy New Year!  Well wishes for 2014 and I will be seeing you all on a more regular basis in just a short amount of time!

Lots of Love from Guyana,

-KB

P.S. If you are looking to travel in South America, especially the week of March 20-April 5, let me know! :-D