Forbes Burnham planted a thirty-year-old mystery in my nine-ten-year-old head, a true anecdote about how he changed my identity of myself
Some Guyanese are difficult subjects to write on. Forbes Burnham is certainly one of them. We Guyanese all know he is either admired or despised… and we all know that he made it hard for us. My LFB anecdote, I hope, is not about politics, but about a mystery this man left in my nine-ten-year- old head and some other unintended lessons about family bloodlines and racism.
Who the F**k is Andrew Pay
While not faithfully mirroring true events, the idea came for this story is inspired by certain character moulds that can still be found in Guyana. The characters and events are invented and placed against the backdrop of Guyana’s as yet untamed hinterland. I hope most readers take the intersection between fiction and fact for granted. For those who do not, be warned.
Snake Cut
"Snake! Snake!” - The children scattered. The high octave warning would do that. It caused our eyes to dart left and right, hearts pumping loudly against eardrums as the adrenalin surged. That startling call was able to interrupt us even when we were making much louder noises with our calcium carbide-mixed-with-spittle and shaken-in-an Ovaltine tin bombs.
Henry Fitt. The last time I flew with him
Most of this is from an entry in a diary I kept when I was 17 - 19 in Guyana.
Sunday 1st Feb. 1981, Moblissa Dairy Farm, Soesdyke - Linden Highway. - I arrived at Moblissa Dairy Farm last Wednesday from Ebini Ranch via Georgetown. The 'Milk Truck', a monster tanker lorry that transports the farm’s milk to Georgetown was quite a ride. I’d left my previous training assignment at Ebini Ranch in the Intermediate Savannahs for Moblissa to continue training for management at the Livestock Development Company. My dream job, an entry level management position as a LIDCO Ranch Supervisor (assistant ranch manager).
Guyanese Easter in Washington, DC
The gods were smiling yesterday as the first, and hopefully annual, Guyanese Kite Flying Picnic event got underway at the Centennial Park in Columbia, Maryland. The picnic saw hundreds of people over the course of several hours flying kites, eating good food and just enjoying a beautiful day.
Stan Brock, Amazon bush pilot – My candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize.
This story is based on an entry I made in a journal in 1978. Hugh Allan Yearwood
Stan Brock, was my number one hero when I was a teenager and I’m sorry I never met him. When I first heard of him British Guiana was now Guyana and he was the long gone ex-manager of one of the most remote and largest cattle ranches in the world. During his time as a cowboy in the Amazon 4,000 of British Guiana’s 83,000 sq. miles were Dadanawa cattle range.
Guyana from the perspective of an American visitor
From his conversation, he entered Guyana from the southern border, possibly Lethem and then travelled to Georgetown. It is indeed a rare insight and candid conversation from an outside observer who had the opportunity to visit Guyana.
Laid bare, our merry monarch: Queen gets the giggles as she hands poetry medal to John Agard
One was clearly most amused.
Her Majesty saw the funny side yesterday as she presented a poetry award - which has an image of a naked woman on the back.
The monarch shared a laugh with John Agard, winner of the Queen’s Gold Medal for Poetry, as she presented him with the honour at Buckingham Palace.
The slaves' first sight of South America
This is the back of the Stabroek Market, Georgetown (Guyana), which, in the late 18th century, had been a slave market. Here, after many days at sea, the African captives got their first sight of the then-Dutch colony of Demerara.
The Polish in South America
In a few weeks time, I'll be heading out to Poland to launch 'Wild Coast', the book of my travels in Guyana, Suriname and French Guiana. There were several points in my journey where my path crossed with Poles.... Here are three of them. Can you think of other Polish-Guianese connections?