It’s been six months since I’ve arrived in Guyana, and I’m not even close to running out of shampoo. Thanks Costco! There have been many ups and downs during the past few months. There has been much adjustment. Some on my part, and some from those I work with adjusting to me. There have been good days and bad days. Some of the good days have been really good, and some of the bad really bad. I feel accomplished to have persevered this long, especially when I know that I’m about a quarter of the way through my time here. That seems crazy to me, but there it is.
I’ll be home to visit in a year, so please plan your lives accordingly if you require your own personal excursion into whimsy. Life in Linden is amusing and a far cry from the life I grew up with. The other night, I had to shepherd a frog out of my apartment. After living here long enough, I’ve gotten accustomed to having uninvited visitors both in my home and on my person. The mosquitoes fight dirty, biting tops of feet and around the ankles. You know how difficult it is to scratch your ankle?! But I digress.
Tim, Sara, Chelsea and I recently got our bicycles. Linden isn’t that big of a place, especially compared to the cities we’re used to. I mean, Guyana’s entire population is about the same as Portland. Excited for my new ease of transportation, I took my brand spanking new mountain bike down to the market to get a few things. I named it Black Mamba due to its grey and black color scheme. Anyway, it would seem that I have an inability to behave properly or follow regulations on anything with two wheels. My first time out on the bike, I got stopped by the police. I’m not kidding. My crime? Going the wrong way down a one-way street. For the record, there is no sign indicating the direction of traffic flow. So, as I was cruising along, giggling to myself at my new found expediency, when a small man in a black beret and a tan trenchcoat got out of a police pickup and said with unimpeded disdain, “Sir! This is a one way. You’ll have to turn around.” I briefly sized him up, guessing that I could probably outrun him, and finish my errands as quickly as I had originally anticipated. I felt especially confident in my escapist abilities due to the fact that this guy was wearing a long coat…in the tropics. Honestly, who wears a coat down here? Windows don’t even close all the way, no matter what time of year! Oh well. Then, I realized that I’m one of like, 4 white guys in the whole city. It wouldn’t exactly be hard to track me down and give me my rightfully deserved citation. Especially since I can see the police station from my house. Plus, he had a serious case of small man syndrome, and would have likely found my attempted escape a worthy reason to thump my skull with whatever blunt instrument his embarrassingly small-fingered hands could procure. I had to turn around, ride back to the street I had just turned from, then continue on to the next block before I could continue in the desired direction. As it turns out, due to the large number of one way streets I can only bike on uni-directionally, the bicycle really makes no difference to my errand running time. Instead of the shortest route, I have to pedal my cracker ass all the way down to the main road to even get where I need to in the market. Egg on my face.
Work has slowed down slightly, as I just gave the final for my class last week. Now the students have a few weeks off before the next semester starts. I’ll still be working with the faculty to modify the existing curriculum both in content and structure. Next semester, the most time-consuming class is pathophysiology which I will be teaching only about one day a week. The nursing school is a three year program, and several of the second and third year students have approached me to ask if I’d be available to teach some refresher courses for their groups. Looks like the nursing school will have their own token white guy for the next couple of years! Maybe by then the questions will cease. But that’s doubtful. Back at the clinic, my boss and I have started a club for the elderly that will meet once a month. We’re planning on doing some cooking demonstrations, exercise regiments, and some open discussion on the two prevalent diseases: hypertension and diabetes. The cooking demonstrations will attempt to show people how to make the foods they love without the huge amount of salt they typically add for flavor. Many people here use MSG, salt, and buillon cubes for flavor. Some will even put all three in the same dish. Most are floored when I tell them that all three are just variations of salt. So if they can use natural flavorings to still get a meal they find appetizing, then I’ll be pleased.
Oh, and tomorrow is my dad’s birthday. Be sure and call him and yell “Happy Birthday you Heifer!”
Because I feel he deserves the attention.
