As I sit down to write this, my final newsletter for the year, it is hard to commit words to paper. It is not that I have nothing to say, for believe me I could talk about Orealla forever. It is just that at the time of writing this I have just two days left in Orealla and I guess writing this makes leaving more real.
When I left the UK, I was cool as a cucumber right up until the day I left. Then I started to wobble a bit and the reality of what I was about to do hit me. It is the same now I am leaving my new home. I have been trying blissfully to pretend that my time in Orealla is not coming to an end by going about my life normally, but it is pointless to pretend any longer as I start to say goodbye to all my friends and pack my whole life into a bag once again.
I’m not really sure where to start, but I guess the beginning is as good a place as any. I am honest enough to admit that when I first arrived in Orealla, I didn’t really enjoy myself. However, I’m pretty sure that’s a normal reaction to being plucked out of your nice, comfortable, familiar life and being plonked in the middle of nowhere with little more than your wits and those of a virtual stranger to rely on. I’m sure you will remember the challenges I faced at the start of the year – the seemingly impenetrable “language barrier”, the sweltering heat on top of the humidity, the frustrations of the Guyanese education system and my own inexperience.
Time passed slowly at first and every day brought a new problem. Should I ignore animal conservation laws and eat this turtle? How many mangoes can I eat without making myself sick? Will any students ever turn up to school? How best to make school engaging for those who do bother? Again I think it was natural to question whether I had bitten off more than I could chew. I stuck with my oversized mouthful though and I look back on my first fully positive day in Orealla as an achievement to be proud of. I love to laugh at stories of foreigners who reach Guyana, find out that they won’t be staying in a five-star hotel and turn around and head straight home. At the very least I can say that I was willing to take on the challenges that I was faced with.
After the much-needed Christmas holidays, time began to speed up and whole weeks were virtually over before I knew they had even begun. The main thing that made life easier was learning to speak Creolese. As with learning all new languages, I started with being able to understand other people, then learnt little phrases like “me no know” and eventually became fluent (more of that later). I say learnt a “new language” because I think that Creolese is significantly different from “deep English” to be able to be classed as a separate language. If you don’t agree with me then tell me what “de disc a freak out” or “de rain a hambug we” really mean. Once I had learnt to talk the talk, I could gaff with people (chat, make jokes etc.) and I made friends. Amerindian are notoriously shy and every time I got another person to open up to me, they confessed that they had been shame (embarrassed) to talk to me because they worried that I wouldn’t be interested in what they were saying.
Everyone was genuinely surprised that I was desperate to talk to them. Even though I became physically fitter from walking everywhere (no buses, trains etc. in Orealla), it began to take me longer to go everywhere, as I would stop to catch up with people. I have also become accustomed to saying “Good morning / afternoon” when I pass someone on the street (like my grandfather). Much of the UK will seem very hostile in comparison. Woe betide me if I make eye contact with anyone on the tube. People in Orealla love it when I shock them by saying that when you travel on public transport in London, you should pretend that you are the only person on the bus/train carriage. Unless, like the Good Samaritan, you are offering your seat to an elderly/disabled/pregnant person, I guess.
Another thing that surprised people about me was that I was more than willing to try new things. Again people were shame. This time they were shame to give me traditional things to eat like cassava bread and fish stew made with cassava water or take me to a pine farm. I had a hard time explaining that doing all these different things was the very reason I came to Orealla. If I wanted to bathe in a shower and watch TV all day I need never have left the UK. People who didn’t know me so well kept their stereotype of the “precious white girl” with her “soft hands” but people who were brave enough to get to know me and vice versa came to understand my motivation for spending a year in such an isolated community. I am always flattered by the mixture of surprise and disgust that foreigners who visit Orealla express when they find out that I have lived in Orealla for so long. They never believe that I bathe riverside everyday and can’t understand why I would politely decline chow mien in favour of cassava bread. They don’t know that back in the day when Amerindians ate sheer traditional food, they stayed healthy and strong well into their old age. Even today the Captain of the village can keep up with any young person climbing the hill in the village, and he is 70+.
After my partner left in February, I had no choice but to speak Creolese all the time. The head teacher at school quarrelled with me for not “speaking properly” and I probably drove my mother crazy as I tried to translate from Creolese inside my head to normal English out loud when I rang her occasionally. On the other hand, I was a source of endless fascination to visitors who would question me for hours just to hear how I talk. You would imagine that that would get annoying, but I learnt to laugh at myself along with them (which I was never capable of doing before). I was always offered lifts and free lunches too, which no gap year student ever turns their nose up at. Another bonus was that the students at school and I could relate to each other. In the first school term we may as well have been speaking different languages, but my speaking Creolese made the lessons more accessible. Plus, making the children laugh at my Creolese made them more engaged in the lesson.
As I mentioned earlier, very few students turned up for school at the beginning of the academic year. They began to filter in after a month or so, and even in the second term I would arrive in class to find a new student who had just come back to school. Needless to say they were hopelessly behind and my “education is important” talks probably fell on deaf ears. Teaching is not an easy job anywhere, but a remote Amerindian village is probably one of the most challenging places to teach. Orealla School has virtually no resources other than an endless supply of chalk. Whilst that frustrated me, it didn’t really bother most of the Guyanese teachers with their ‘chalk and talk’ style.
Another issue with the school is the Headmaster. At first glance he looks like a genuinely good guy. He makes long speeches about the need for interactive lessons which cater for “all learning styles”, he talks about including all students in lessons and treating them equally, he doesn’t “drop lashes” even though he is allowed to, he fabricates elaborate “maths month” plans and plans inter-class quizzes. This all sounds great but… a 3 hour talk on special needs is too long. He never follows through on plans he makes, he doesn’t lead by example or follow his own advice by teaching and he is overly obsessed with the records that the Ministry demands. This last fault is not his alone but a problem with the whole Guyanese education system. If only they could realise that it is more important to impart knowledge and enthuse students about the subject rather than make sure that records are complete. I guess also I can’t totally put the blame upon the HM. He isn’t supported by the staff for petty political issues that makes it difficult to work together towards the goals he sets. Yet he doesn’t do himself any favours or endear himself to people though. He doesn’t know how to talk to people as a leader. He doesn’t give praise when you do something good or give constructive criticism only shouts and complains when you do something wrong. Just like the students, the teachers eventually become disheartened and stop making an effort. The HM has just one year left until retirement and I will be excited to hear what happens when someone new takes over.
This term I started a remedial program with a group of grade 7 boys who can’t read or write. They desperately needed help, as the lessons they are taught in normal school are useless to them. I was pleasantly surprised by how enthusiastic they were and I was over the moon when some of them even came and asked for extra lessons. The teaching was fun actually as we played games and ate fruit. I am only sorry that I won’t be able to finish the program as my time is up. Someone wrote me that a two-year commitment would be more beneficial to everyone (including myself). I totally agree with them. Now that I have settled in I know how to go about sorting out problems and on whom I can rely. On the other hand though, I am still young, and going to University and learning more skills will enable me to help more in the future. Besides no one will even let me defer an offer for medicine twice. I’m excited about the opportunities I have ahead of me and know that I will appreciate them all the more knowing that few people in Orealla ever have the same chances in life.
I came to Orealla to teach but I have actually enjoyed my time outside the classroom more. It’s depressing but true that I have probably learnt more than I have taught. But than again, I have made more effort than the majority of the students. As I said before, people were shocked by how willing I was to experience new things. Even more than last term, this term I made an effort to find out something new or try something different everyday. I couldn’t wait to reach back home (Orealla!) after Easter. The Easter holiday was enjoyable, it was nice to relax a little and see a different part of Guyana, but I was desperately excited to come home.
Hammocks are a large part of Guyanese culture and I have become a little obsessed with them. I will probably be seen as an eccentric hippie when I return to the UK but here I am totally normal. I had decided to try to make my own hammock as a souvenir and my friend Auntie Esther showed me how. Technically it’s not that difficult and Auntie Esther patiently explained each step and then I set about the actual work. It is back breaking work. It takes hours (even for an Amerindian who works much faster than me) and you have to sit hunched up on the floor.
My hammock-making antics only gave people in the village another reason to laugh at (with?) the crazy white girl. I am sure though that they were impressed by what I was doing and I appreciated being told that I am the only volunteer so far who has made such an effort to learn a craft like that. My hammock took a long time to finish but one of my best moments from this year was the first time I sat in it. I would be hard pressed to find anything more comfortable or satisfying. A hammock is not the only thing I learnt to make though. Initially I ended up spending a lot of time with Auntie Esther to work on my hammock but I persuaded her to show me other things as well. By the end of the year I can now bake competently in an oil drum oven and make almost any Guyanese snack/dish. Another of my best moments in Orealla is the day I made a cake all by myself for Esther’s father for father’s day because everyone else was too busy. I have also collected up various seeds from plants and my favourite fruits in Orealla and have made necklaces and earrings that will do nothing but encourage that hippie label.
In the first term I felt like life was passing in slow motion, in the second term I was jogging through life, but now in the final term I am sprinting along like an Olympic athlete. I can’t really get my head round the fact that my time is coming to an end. It’s difficult to explain how I really feel. I am excited about going home to the UK and seeing my family again but I love living here. There is always more to learn and see and it will be very difficult to say goodbye to all the friends I have made. Also, to be honest, I am anxious about living in the UK again. I am worried that no one will understand what I am saying and will get bored of my endless stories and anecdotes about Orealla. The UK will seem outrageously expensive too and I will have trouble keeping up with the fast pace of life. I will have to adapt all over again like I had to when I moved here.
People ask me if this year has been worth it. If I had to go back and choose what I wanted to do in my Gap Year again I would always choose the same thing. This year I have spent in Orealla has been one of the best years of my life. I have learnt so much – about myself and the way that other people work as well as how to make things like hammocks and cassava bread. I feel like I have matured as a person too. I mentioned that I know how to laugh at myself, I have become less selfish, I am now willing to help other people and have become more tolerant of others (and maybe more tolerable as a result?). I am sure that some things in life will seem easier now that I have had these experiences. I will be able to relate to other people who I have nothing in common with and I am more self-reliant. I will no longer need to ring my Dad up at 4am screaming that there is a mouse in my bedroom, and I am sure that will be a relief for him. I always knew that I wouldn’t be able to change the whole world, I was never that naive, but I will leave with the satisfaction or knowing that I have helped a few people – even if it is just encouraging Auntie Esther to bake bread everyday to sell, or enthusing a few students about learning to read.
Whilst some memories will inevitably fade and become more distant I know that I will always carry a little part of Orealla with me. The experiences that I have had here are incorporated into myself as they have helped shape what I am today. I will also never forget the kindness and hospitality that I was treated with by the locals. I only wish that everyone had the same opportunities that I have had. I realise that a year in Orealla isn’t right for everyone but lots of people could benefit from something similar. This year has definitely made me want to travel more. I have learnt that there is more than one way of doing something and they are all good, just different. There is plenty more to see out there. Hopefully in the future, when I have more skills, I will get the chance to do something similar and make more of an impact by spending longer.
Once again I cannot thank the people who helped me realise this opportunity enough. I can’t imagine what I would have done had I not come to Guyana, but I’m sure it would have been less exciting, less fulfilling and I probably wouldn’t have learnt so much. As I said at the beginning, I could talk about Orealla forever. If you are interested in hearing more please “don’t shame for contact me”. I will probably be desperate for a willing audience, as after a few days I’m sure my family will have had their “belly full” of my stories.
Once again thank you,
Amy Foster
