August 5, 2018
We have been in Guyana a little less than 48 hours. Here are some observations:
Things I have learned:
Our backyard is filled with toads at dusk and dark. I adore them, but the morning after my discovery a local friend informed me that I should stay away from them. She said "we have been told that they are poisonous and will cause severe swelling in humans and are potentially toxic for dogs." Fortunately, I hadn't kissed any toads this time, I have been known to do so in the past. I had touched one and my hand was fine. My worry bucket had been free of Lucille (my beloved poodle) worry for about 20 hours. At this point I re-filled the bucket by pouring in “what if she eats a toad?” But when I announced said worry to my family, my husband Jeff reminded me that the night before, while in my drunk on Toad Love state, I had slurred, “if Lucille eats a toad, I may have to off her.” Right. Turns out I had been lying, I was worried. So, I started asking everyone we came into contact with. The guard said they are fine, not poisonous. The gardener said they are bad news and could kill Lucille. He also asked me if she was a "slut or a boy." I was astounded and could not bring myself to confirm the term. I proudly announced that she was "a girl." (Jeff later told me that the man had said "slut or bull" which is only slightly better). The contractor for the house said don't let her bite the toads, he had a dog who got really sick with them. The driver said, they are just common toads, no worries. Then, by stroke of luck, we ran into a biologist who contracts to ExxonMobil and knows Jeff. He said, with expert confidence, that they pose no threat to humans, but that they can make dogs very sick if a dog actually eats one. But he also said not to worry, most dogs bite one once, learn and never bite one again. Fingers crossed. He also said that there have been several reports of monkeys catching and licking the toads just for fun, of the extracurricular variety of fun.
Firsts:
Last night we ate beer battered shark and fried plantains for dinner at a local restaurant. The shark was delicious and blew any fish and chips that I have ever eaten out of the water. The restaurant has three offerings Banga Mary and plantains or (when available) shark and plantains, and beer.
https://www.stabroeknews.com/2013/the-scene/02/16/beer-battered-banga-mary/
http://guyana-seafoods.com/wp/portfolio/banga-mary/
When we asked what kind of shark it was, we were told, "oh, just regular shark." I would have taken a photo of the place, but I'm fairly certain that we were the spectacle of the moment, not the other way around. When I thought of pulling my phone out I had a sudden image of a bunch of zoo patrons looking in on a caged gorilla while she looked back at them through the lens of her camera.
Also, I was the only woman at the restaurant not drinking my beer through a straw (inserted directly into the bottle). Men drink from the bottle, women through a straw. I can't imagine myself conforming.
I have learned how to choose a ripe papaya and that all the fruit here is delicious, although admittedly there is no surprise in that discovery. So far we have eaten mangos, pineapple, papaya and bananas. We haven't yet gotten any fresh coconut milk. Maybe today.
Confession:
I confess to having some trouble telling some people apart. Two of our guards look so much alike that I have committed to learning their schedules for assistance in knowing who is who. There are three guards. Their rotating schedule goes like this: 2 twelve hour days, 2 twelve hour nights, 2 days off. Our house feels like grand central station. Gardeners come and go as they please, the guards come and go, and apparently, the car that we have been assigned does park here at night. Whoever is driving it last drops it off here when he goes off duty on his way home for the night. So, last night Jeff and I were playing cribbage and Lucille suddenly barked for the first time since we got here. I looked out the window and sure enough: there is the driver in the driveway, chatting with the security guard after parking the car. Grand Central Station: privacy need not apply.
Adjustments are in order, but overall, we love it here thus far. The house and yard are lovely. The back yard gives me a sense of well being, a place I can run to where the guards aren't looking (when they aren't doing their regular rounds behind the house, that is, but whatever...just looking at it makes me happy). The yard is a place for me to exhale. The girls seem happy with their spaces, excited about school and visiting with the people that we know here. Jeff is exuding relief that we got here, all in one piece, and he is excited about the work. Lucille has been the perfect dog, so much so that the landlord waived the US$1000 security deposit that he was going to charge ExxonMobil for us to have her here. After spending an hour with her he decided the deposit was unnecessary.
Beware of moving things: we have found frogs, lizards, geckos, ants and bugs behind many a bag, chair, drain, etc. Remember your sunglasses, sunscreen and bug dope at all times. But mostly, breathe in the sounds of tropical birds, trilling bugs and AC motors. It's magical here, in a dysfunctional way. You have to absorb it or let it absorb you. Either way, my heart is open to the experience.