January 2015
I'm pacing in Cheddi
Jagan international airport. It's kind of hard because within about 40 seconds
of pacing I can walk in and out of the airport. Despite the obvious challenge,
I've been pacing for about 20 minutes since being dropped off by the fantastic
and fast talking taxi driver, Andrew. He's ambling about peaceably, talking to
other taxi drivers, either meeting old friends or making new ones. It's no
wonder he knows everyone. I walk upstairs, leaning over the railing to watch
the runway. No airplane. I walk downstairs. No people unloading. Andrew waves
me over. He tells me I should go upstairs and watch for incoming airplanes.
Alright. Done. I check my watch. Their flight should be here. Now. But, I know
how airports and airplanes work. If a flight gets where it's supposed to be,
when it's supposed to be there, that definitely counts as some kind of miracle.
I try to make some last minute vacation plans on my smartphone. The Guyana
tourism page is about as helpful as dirt. I look up and realize the plane is
here, with people already strolling down the outdoor landing. People unloading.
Still unloading. I wait and make sure that was really the last person. But I
didn't see them. Maybe this isn't their plane. Except the airport really isn't
big enough to have 2 airplanes at one time. I run downstairs. Andrew is still
ambling. No one ambles like Andrew. I ask him to hold a "Welcome to
Guyana" sign I made just for this occasion. He agrees and takes the other
drivers teases in stride. I try to pace but I know I need to stand right here
and watch. Some people start walking down the walkway from security clearance.
I try to glue myself to the floor. It is not effective. I keep pacing and
swaying from side to side. Standing still is not in my skill set. I keep
looking. Maybe I missed them.
There they are! I can't
control my legs. I charge toward them. I don't care that they have to drop
their luggage to hug me. My family. They are finally here with me. If having a
happy heart could cause explosions, Cheddi Jagan would be a blur of dust and a
memory. I hug them until my arms are tired. I can't get tired of seeing them. I
stare at them the whole way to the taxi. In the taxi. Still staring. It had
been a long time since I was so ridiculously excited. And so happy. We didn't
need to say anything. My heart was happy. I was home. Home is where the heart
is, and my heart was in that taxi traveling toward Wakapoa.
My family made it, safe
and sound to visit me. We lounged around Guyana, visiting my site(Wakapoa), my
training site(Laluni), a resort, and Georgetown. We didn't see many of the big
touristy things to see because, let's be real, the whole reason they came to
Guyana was to see me. Super modest, I know. But it's true. If I weren't here,
they would have never found their way down to Guyana. Never would they know the
joy of cassava bread and fish, of buns and water coconuts, of channa and cheese
rolls.
I'm glad they did. This
experience is comprised of so many things, but it was amazing for them to see
parts of it. They saw the ants. The mosquitos. The smiles of the children.
(Have I mentioned how much they loved Dad's beard?)
I am endlessly amused by
how much the children love my family. I love my family. I love the children.
How could they not be perfectly suited to adore each other?
It was really wonderful for me because the
family saw everything instead of hearing it. It's so different in person than
it is when you hear stories and tales about it. It's reality, when you actually
live it for a little while. At first I was terrified my children would be too
shy around the family because I remember how shy they used to be around me.
Lucky for me, that was not a problem. They welcomed my family right in after a
little while of being quiet and terrified. I think they were shocked how much
paler my family was than me. I have developed a pretty sweet tan(I almost look
brazilian or portuguese) but my family does not. As the children like to
describe them: they are white, white, white. It's always nice to see two worlds
meeting, and coexisting so harmoniously. My family really enjoyed being in
Wakapoa and Laluni, despite the heat.
When we went to
Laluni, my host mom Gaitree was joking that I had to cook chicken for my
family. Turns out she wasn't really joking.
If you think I actually chopped off
the head of this poor chicken, you are wrong. I did however, help with the
plucking process. It wasn't as gross as I thought it would be. I mean, it's
kinda gross. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't. The whole, "it used to be a
living creature and is now a dead piece of meat" thing is very odd to me
and I don't think I'll ever actually get used to it. However, plucking it was
quite the experience. I enjoyed seeing how it transforms from being el chicken
you see running around on the ground, to chicken meat, to meat you cook in the
kitchen. It's funny, because in America I always feel very distant from my
food. I never actually know where it comes from. Here, though, it's quite the
opposite. We know the meat is fresh because we just killed it. We know who we
bought it from because it's the family down the road. These are some of the
joys of living in Guyana, and I'm glad I got to share the whole picture with my
family.
The hardest part of
their visit was saying goodbye. And hearing how proud they are of me. That was
simply too many feelings for me.
The rest of this month
has been birthdays, lost umbrellas, root canals, training, ice cream, colored
pencils and other volunteers. Found out a couple of the other volunteers will
be leaving pretty soon here. I'm happy for them because I know they'll be super
happy at home, but I still selfishly wish they could stay. Also, we had a big
holiday get together at Linda's house which was super awesome!
I'm kind of sorry I'm
mostly just posting pictures this go round, but at the same time I'm really
not.
Embarrassing Moment
Freaking out and
screaming as the chicken was dying. My host sister Serina laughed at me so
hard. For real, though, it was flapping a lot.
Also freaked out when my
umbrella fell into the bottom of the creek and spent about 20 minutes searching
for it with my friends Dello, Jamal, and Tash. It was Tash's birthday and I
made her look for my umbrella after accidentally tipping over the canoe.
#iamsuchagoodfriend
Quote:
"You're a work of
art. Not everyone will understand you, but the ones who do, will never forget
about you."
Shout Out:
I don't know what I
would do without you guys. You give me the support I need in a million
different ways(obviously cookies and sea stars are among those ranks.) You are
truly the best to me, and I am so grateful to have you in my life. I can't even
say how much I love you and miss you. Seeing you was the best thing I could
have asked for. I may or may not show your pictures to everyone and brag about
how you came down here. I am going to remember this forever, and ever, and
ever.
Also thanks to friends
near and far who were there when I really needed you recently. I've already
said thanks every two words, but I appreciate it. You're awesome.
Also, also, congrats Mel
on the engagement! I cannot wait to go back to the states in the fall to make
stupid comments at you as you do super serious wedding things<3
Love all of you profoundly!
Hope everything is great because all of you are, in fact, the best of the rest.
