Footsteps into Guyana...again

As we stepped off the plane into the blackness of the night, I could smell the familiar scent of rain hanging in the air around me. The wet pavement glistened with water in the light escaping from the plane behind me. As I breathed in the clean smell of the air, while feeling exhausted from little sleep and travel, I couldn't help but also feel entirely happy to be back in this country, that in three short months has stolen my heart.

Behind me, my sister struggled with her heavy backpack, and I wondered what she would think of this country with all its varied people, landscapes, and nuances. I thought about how this arrival was so different than my first introduction to Guyana. Rather than watch from the windows as we passed green fields, local houses, emense rivers, and richly green trees, all we could see out of our windows was blackness until suddenly the lights of the runway appeared beneath us. I was happy that she was here with me, and I hoped that she would enjoy her experience.

We quickly passed through customs, collected our bags, and found a taxi. As we hurdled down the road toward Georgetown, and the mission house where we would spend the night, I couldn't help but recall my first encounter with driving here. Now, nothing usually phased me, as we drove in the darkness toward our destination. The spedomitor on the car hung at zero, so I had no idea how fast we were driving as we whipped around curves, and drove mostly in the middle of the road since there was little traffic at 3am.

Finally we arrived at the mission house. I was praying that someone was staying there, and that the door would be left open since I hadn't had the chance to make a copy of the key for myself before leaving in December. My prayer was abundantly answered, not only were people staying at the mission house, but both rooms were full, and someone was asleep in the larger living/dining room/kitchen area. I managed to quietly procure the last matress from one of the rooms along with a mosquito net (which we quickly decided against using since it was so hot) without waking the slumbering occupants. So my sister and I both crowded onto a single mattress for what remained of the night.

The next morning she was introduced to the fun of the market place as we bought some fruit for breakfast, and I suggested some delicious roti and channa (seasoned chick peas in a tortilla-like fried bread) she was immediatly hooked. Another hit was the cold coconut water that can be purchased on street corners. All-in-all we had a delicious breakfast, then it was time to head out to the school.

A bumpy mini bus ride, followed by an even more bumpy river crossing brought us to the village of Supenaam where we met some staff and students from the school. Then we proceded, in perfect Guyanese fashion, to wait the rest of the afternoon and into the hours of darkness for the rest of our enturage to arrive before we could head up the remaining river to the school. It seems to be a trend to make this journey in the pitch black of night for all new individuals traveling to these parts for the first time, and this time proved no different. After we arrived at the dock, we discovered that the tide was too high so our tractor would not be able to make it over the bridge for several more hours so either we would have to wait, or we would have to walk the 2 miles to school. Since it was already nearly 9pm we decided to walk, so after leaving our suitcases at some church members house in the village, we set out with our backpacks. It appears that my sister would get an even more thourough initiation into jungle living that even I did on my first day arriving.