Is this the shoe of one of those poisoned in Jonestown (Guyana) in 1978? It could be. I took this picture on the exact spot where, on 18 November that year, over 900 people took (or were forced to take cyanide). Few women will have lost their shoes in this bit of jungle since then, so it could well be the wreckage of that terrible day.
But what has Jonestown meant to modern Guyana? Despite an energetic case of amnesia, it's proved difficult to bury. Every year, the newspapers unearthsthe facts, and parade them over their pages. It's almost as if readers need reminding that the Temple was part of their story. Some joked that it was the only part. I once spotted a t-shirt in Stabroek market that depicted a map of Guyana under the heading ‘Sights of interest’. All it featured was Jonestown, marked with skull and crossbones.
I sometimes wondered if the government had taken this taunt to heart. Only a few years earlier, the Minister of Tourism had suggested that Jonestown be re-opened, to promote ‘dark tourism’. In fairness, every other scheme had failed (including a refugee camp for the Indochinese). But tourism? I remember asking my driver about this, soon after my return to Georgetown. Was it his cup of tea, a resort for the chronically morbid? Would he be booking his grand-children in, and his wife?
‘Don’t shit me, man,’ he laughed, ‘You been too long in the bush ...’