Riding the roads between Karanambu and Yupukari
May 17, 2011, on a Honda 125cc FAN
Friday, May 27, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Symphonies with Words
I started a Reading Club for grades 6-8, once a week, at my house, for this term, where we get together and read a chapter book. I’ve wanted to do this here since I came, and I guess it’s with the end in sight that I actually made it happen. Mom has always said when things get too difficult here, go back to the kids, and interact with the kids. It feels like things are at the point now where I have done all I can in the long run (more or less) and so now – to the kids!
With this reading club, I envisioned a small group of kids, sitting in a circle, reading, understanding, enjoying and discussing an entire chapter book, collectively revelling in the joys of novels. Though these may be too lofty of expectations, we do have a good amount of kids borrowing chapter books, though I am unable to assess their completion or comprehension levels on them. I wanted the kids to get a sense of pride in accomplishment at soaking up an entire novel, so I picked James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl and Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt for them to choose from. I chose those for two reasons: because they ARE a great example of how fun and easy reading/writing can be. That and - there were three copies of each of these books in the village and it just made sense.
Roald Dahl is a literary hero of mine, and I’ve had the kids read a lot of his books, including The Fantastic Mr. Fox, George’s Marvelous Medicine and Esio Trot. Tuck Everlasting… I read this novel when I was in gr. 6, in the Accelerated Readers Club that met after school. We read novels together in the afternoons, while drinking a can of pop and eating a little bag of chips with our English teachers; it felt very intellectual. I re-read the book as an adult and fell in love with it, as Babbitt writes so descriptively beautiful and the events that transpire around Winnie (main character) that force her to begin to see the world in new ways are so perceptively written. It is such a wonderful example of how words can be turned into written symphonies… If I can get the kids to only see how the same words they learn to spell by rote memorization can be used in context...
On the first day, three girls showed up, and they selected Tuck Everlasting to read, and so we began, each with her own book, taking turns to read a page or two. Merisa read with such intonation, Helen stumbled a bit but remembered all the details with great clarity. The second meeting, 6 came, and we got into a routine, sharing the reading, speaking up when they didn’t understand and helping each other pronounce words. We’ve had three meetings now, and none of the kids have openly declared a new love affair for novels, but neither have they shown a disinterest in the plot or in taking turns reading. We’ve discussed the book a bit: the positives and negatives of immortality, the grey area of kidnapping for a good reason, and what some of those eloquently described sceneries are trying to tell us.
I think the kids enjoy hanging out at my house; they’ll go through my collection of books and pictures, and will linger after the afternoon finishes. I reflect on the fact that it’s not as structured as my reading club when I was a kid (and the fact that they may not get as much out of the book as I’d fantasize them to), but I realized that I may not ever have a chance to have such an exceptional time with the kids if we were back home, either, as in having kids over to my house, having the floor open to any kind of candid discussion.
With this reading club and in other instances, these kids, with their direct openness in topics, have brought up many different subjects of delicate natures or personal natures with me, and it is difficult to shy away from then. I prefer to be quite frank with kids, of any age, in general. (I wonder how that would fit in with education systems back in the States? Teachers must restrict the topics they discuss with their students, must be politically correct... certain things should be left for the parents.) But here, it can be assumed that topics of a mature nature are not necessarily being discussed between parents and children, and so the need for open disclosure from any role model form overrides the sense of scholastic propriety.
I’ve loved having kids come over to my house; there’s a set who’ve become quite comfortable spending time with me – a quartet of boys: Jason, Ronson, Brendon and Savio. Jason and Ronson, especially, will come by themselves, and spend a couple hours with me. We will talk about any variety of things, they will ask me questions about the States, we will read a book together or they will read on their own as I clean or do whatever task I was doing when they stopped by. It is a relaxed quiet time where I believe they feel comfortable and safe, and I feel happy and content to be one to provide that for them. And it is an added bonus, that I am friends with their parents.
Here in the village, you basically live with who you work with, you live with who you teach. Professional life, school life and home life are all intimately intertwined. There are positives and negatives to this, but one of the positives is that I feel I’ve been able to be a considerable mentor, to put it technically, to so many of the kids. And on the flip side – I’ve had a considerable set of buddies around to have fun learning together and gain life lessons from. I just love the kids, them and their individual personalities, their potential.
Books have become one medium of connection between us, one way for any student to come into the library or my house and get individual attention. As I look around as the pre-teens in my house every Wednesday afternoon, for example, I see a substantial moment; not one with pressure to fill up the time with substance, but one with the grounds for a spark to ignite a richer future – for all of us.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Rups Rodeo 2011
The Rupunnuni Rodeo, an annual Region 9 extravaganza, has come again. It falls over Easter weekend each year, and attracts people from all over the country and Caribbean. Lethem is packed with people, the GT road has traffic, there are strange, fair-like attractions like ferris wheels and trampolines at the Rodeo grounds. The Rodeo is on Saturday and Sunday, but that doesn't include the Miss Rupununi pageant on Friday night at the Takutu Hotel, or the send off parties on Monday, as everyone (or most) pack up and leave for home. Then there are those diehard Rodeo-goers, some whom I was destined to be affiliated with, who use Monday as a trip-to-the-falls day, and Tuesday a day of recovery before heading back home.
Mom was visiting my first year here and as much as she was a trooper during the weekend, I learned a lesson - do not bring your mom to rodeo weekend. I was discovering the pleasure of staying out until the sun came up, when I had mom back at her hotel room, not complaining when I walked in the room at 6 a.m.
Last year, I didn't attend, partially due to aversion to a 5 day weekend, partially due to transp conflicts. This year, my last year, it seemed like I should make a point to be there, plus I thought I should really take a break from the village. So, the convoy headed out Friday afternoon, Chris, Mike, myself and three new volunteers for the year - Matt, my roomie; Robin, a PCV Response at K/bu, and Evi, associated with Panthera, also at K/bu. We rode into Lethem, using 4 headlights to shine the way and caught the pageant at the Takutu. Krista and Mina, two friends of ours, were in the competition. I met up with people I haven't seen in a long time, glorified in strangers and attractive men older than me and spent some quality time with past and current roomates.
Rachel, the PCV Response from Katoka, and I enjoyed the variety of snacks and finger foods as we perused the grounds over the weekend, watched some bucking broncos and bought a few pieces of jewlery during the day, then beers and rum and dancing at night. I was fortunate to catch rides back to the house a lot of us were crashing at in Culvert City, right past the airstrip, fairly early each night.... 5 a.m., 1:30 a.m. and 3 a.m.
We stayed at the Li's family house. There's a big porch there where hammocks by the dozens could be hung up, not to mention hammocks under the mango trees, and there are many open bedrooms where you can throw a mattress down - or just your hammock down, in Matt's case. Some of the Li's family were visiting from the States, and then a friend, Navin, who rents the house with his wife and daughter, had his in-laws visiting, too. All the ladies and Kavita, the lady of the house, cooked up lunches and got the rest of us to help clean. The late morning might include a bath at the local creek, or lounging in a hammock or a nap or a short walk, then it was a leisure trek to the rodeo grounds.
Sunday night, I actually dressed up for the dancing, and then a group of people had this huge dance train that will go down in history. I was squeezed between Chris and Robin. I danced with all the gals and with some different guys, but I never really got into the groove this time around. As I waited for something to happen on Monday, Chris tied me up a hammock under the mango tree and I swung there, napping and thinking; a very contented moment. Tuesday was waiting to get ready to go, talking about getting ready to go, getting ready to go, talking about going, going, going, going and finally gone, around 10:30 p.m. A full 5 days, But I am glad to say I went. It's part of the culture.
On the road to the Rodeo! Stopping between Quatata and Markanta. Sarah and Robin
Rodeo Grounds. Rodeo sponsored by El Dorado, voted world's best rum, and Digicel, the main cell phone service in the Caribbean.
Dance train!!!!
Mom was visiting my first year here and as much as she was a trooper during the weekend, I learned a lesson - do not bring your mom to rodeo weekend. I was discovering the pleasure of staying out until the sun came up, when I had mom back at her hotel room, not complaining when I walked in the room at 6 a.m.
Last year, I didn't attend, partially due to aversion to a 5 day weekend, partially due to transp conflicts. This year, my last year, it seemed like I should make a point to be there, plus I thought I should really take a break from the village. So, the convoy headed out Friday afternoon, Chris, Mike, myself and three new volunteers for the year - Matt, my roomie; Robin, a PCV Response at K/bu, and Evi, associated with Panthera, also at K/bu. We rode into Lethem, using 4 headlights to shine the way and caught the pageant at the Takutu. Krista and Mina, two friends of ours, were in the competition. I met up with people I haven't seen in a long time, glorified in strangers and attractive men older than me and spent some quality time with past and current roomates.
Rachel, the PCV Response from Katoka, and I enjoyed the variety of snacks and finger foods as we perused the grounds over the weekend, watched some bucking broncos and bought a few pieces of jewlery during the day, then beers and rum and dancing at night. I was fortunate to catch rides back to the house a lot of us were crashing at in Culvert City, right past the airstrip, fairly early each night.... 5 a.m., 1:30 a.m. and 3 a.m.
We stayed at the Li's family house. There's a big porch there where hammocks by the dozens could be hung up, not to mention hammocks under the mango trees, and there are many open bedrooms where you can throw a mattress down - or just your hammock down, in Matt's case. Some of the Li's family were visiting from the States, and then a friend, Navin, who rents the house with his wife and daughter, had his in-laws visiting, too. All the ladies and Kavita, the lady of the house, cooked up lunches and got the rest of us to help clean. The late morning might include a bath at the local creek, or lounging in a hammock or a nap or a short walk, then it was a leisure trek to the rodeo grounds.
Sunday night, I actually dressed up for the dancing, and then a group of people had this huge dance train that will go down in history. I was squeezed between Chris and Robin. I danced with all the gals and with some different guys, but I never really got into the groove this time around. As I waited for something to happen on Monday, Chris tied me up a hammock under the mango tree and I swung there, napping and thinking; a very contented moment. Tuesday was waiting to get ready to go, talking about getting ready to go, getting ready to go, talking about going, going, going, going and finally gone, around 10:30 p.m. A full 5 days, But I am glad to say I went. It's part of the culture.
On the road to the Rodeo! Stopping between Quatata and Markanta. Sarah and Robin
Rodeo Grounds. Rodeo sponsored by El Dorado, voted world's best rum, and Digicel, the main cell phone service in the Caribbean.
Dance train!!!!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Cinco de Mayo, oh SI!!!!
Cinco de Mayo, celebrated in Yupukari. No joke! Mexican food and music HERE! In the Rupununi! Trying new recipes! Trying family recipes!
It started with making salsa with Dad back in August. I posted pictures and Mike mentioned wanting to make it here. Cinco de Mayo finally seemed to be a good time, especially after we found dried cilantro at the supermarket in Lethem (I swear, Lethem is turning into a huge metropolis; Savannah Inn, the supermarket, really has all you need). And THEN, I found my beloved Mexican agua fresca drink, Horchata, in a Tang flavor in GT! I brought some down and we all enjoyed it here immensely, and I found a recipe to try it from scratch. So that got added to the list.
Mike found a recipe for a lime mango grilled chicken sandwich, chipotle style, and we had ourselves a menu! Mike and I planned the grocery list which I bought in Lethem on Wednesday, we started preparations for the meal around noon Thursday (it was conveniently a Guyanese holiday - Arrival Day, which you can learn about in my post from a year ago), and spent the day working on it - so fun.
We had to borrow a blender from Maisie and then we had to use it at CH for the horchata and salsa, but the rest was done at K. House. The salsa was done from memory of how I cooked it with Dad, but I realized you gotta think about what you are doing if you want it to be the carefully orchestrated and flavorful salsa of the Ambriz Clan. It was a mix of orchestratedness and my flighty hand when it comes to cooking, and I think the product was a good compromise of the Ambriz style with a Rupununi setting influence. (The native peppers we used were enough to make your sphincter double-take).
I soaked and cooked black eyed peas to be mashed and become refried beans. The guys got firewood and grilled the chicken outside as I mashed our lone pear (avocado) and turned it into guacamole, as close to mom's style as possible, though I had to substitute paprika as the brown flecks instead of chili powder. Mike downloaded mariachi music, which played in the background and I thought of Papa. As the chicken finished grilling, I retrieved the horchata drink from the fridge at CH (a milky rice sweet taste that goes amazingly lovely with rum) and we gorged. Promptly fell into a food coma after.
Another amazing meal/journey.
The all-sensical flavors of Mexico captured right here in Y seemed to be a wild dream come true. It felt like KC home.
Salsa!!!
Mr. Lime/Mango Mike Himself
Cinco de Mayo!!!!!
It started with making salsa with Dad back in August. I posted pictures and Mike mentioned wanting to make it here. Cinco de Mayo finally seemed to be a good time, especially after we found dried cilantro at the supermarket in Lethem (I swear, Lethem is turning into a huge metropolis; Savannah Inn, the supermarket, really has all you need). And THEN, I found my beloved Mexican agua fresca drink, Horchata, in a Tang flavor in GT! I brought some down and we all enjoyed it here immensely, and I found a recipe to try it from scratch. So that got added to the list.
Mike found a recipe for a lime mango grilled chicken sandwich, chipotle style, and we had ourselves a menu! Mike and I planned the grocery list which I bought in Lethem on Wednesday, we started preparations for the meal around noon Thursday (it was conveniently a Guyanese holiday - Arrival Day, which you can learn about in my post from a year ago), and spent the day working on it - so fun.
We had to borrow a blender from Maisie and then we had to use it at CH for the horchata and salsa, but the rest was done at K. House. The salsa was done from memory of how I cooked it with Dad, but I realized you gotta think about what you are doing if you want it to be the carefully orchestrated and flavorful salsa of the Ambriz Clan. It was a mix of orchestratedness and my flighty hand when it comes to cooking, and I think the product was a good compromise of the Ambriz style with a Rupununi setting influence. (The native peppers we used were enough to make your sphincter double-take).
I soaked and cooked black eyed peas to be mashed and become refried beans. The guys got firewood and grilled the chicken outside as I mashed our lone pear (avocado) and turned it into guacamole, as close to mom's style as possible, though I had to substitute paprika as the brown flecks instead of chili powder. Mike downloaded mariachi music, which played in the background and I thought of Papa. As the chicken finished grilling, I retrieved the horchata drink from the fridge at CH (a milky rice sweet taste that goes amazingly lovely with rum) and we gorged. Promptly fell into a food coma after.
Another amazing meal/journey.
The all-sensical flavors of Mexico captured right here in Y seemed to be a wild dream come true. It felt like KC home.
Salsa!!!
Mr. Lime/Mango Mike Himself
Cinco de Mayo!!!!!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Pearls Before Swine
You know that one scene in Independence Day, where the president stands up and gives an impromptu speech to the people at the army base?
"Good morning. In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind. "Mankind." That word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps it's fate that today is the Fourth of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom... Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution... but from annihilation. We are fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day the world declared in one voice: "We will not go quietly into the night!" We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence Day!"
That one. And then, they get inspired and come together go and kick the aliens' asses?
What if inspirational and logical words such as these are spoken, but the asses AREN'T kicked? Or worse yet, what if everyone just sits there little crickets chirping? ---
"Yes, behold my lord Ulrich, the rock, the hard place, like a wind from Guilderland he sweeps by blown far from his homeland in search of glory and honor, we walk... in the garden... of his turbulence!"
chirp, chirp, chirp
Are these words worth less? Less possible or valid?
Does the response determine the worth of the words?
Does the anticipated response determine the actual delivery of the words?
Does the belief that what you are saying is pretty damn inspiring, whether or not it actually is, determine it's reception or significance? ---
"You cannot learn from books. *tears out pages from a textbook*
Replace these pages with life lessons.
And then you will have a book that is worth its weight in gold.
I know these are expensive. But the lesson is priceless." - Michael Scott, Dunder Mifflin Regional Manager
Just a little word-wondering.
"Good morning. In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind. "Mankind." That word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps it's fate that today is the Fourth of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom... Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution... but from annihilation. We are fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day the world declared in one voice: "We will not go quietly into the night!" We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence Day!"
That one. And then, they get inspired and come together go and kick the aliens' asses?
What if inspirational and logical words such as these are spoken, but the asses AREN'T kicked? Or worse yet, what if everyone just sits there little crickets chirping? ---
"Yes, behold my lord Ulrich, the rock, the hard place, like a wind from Guilderland he sweeps by blown far from his homeland in search of glory and honor, we walk... in the garden... of his turbulence!"
chirp, chirp, chirp
Are these words worth less? Less possible or valid?
Does the response determine the worth of the words?
Does the anticipated response determine the actual delivery of the words?
Does the belief that what you are saying is pretty damn inspiring, whether or not it actually is, determine it's reception or significance? ---
"You cannot learn from books. *tears out pages from a textbook*
Replace these pages with life lessons.
And then you will have a book that is worth its weight in gold.
I know these are expensive. But the lesson is priceless." - Michael Scott, Dunder Mifflin Regional Manager
Just a little word-wondering.
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