I love my colour. It is absolutely wonderful being black.
Why am I off on this tangent today? Because every time I travel, it feels so wonderful to be able to blend in with the rest of the population so no one notices you or worse harasses you. (Well that's not quite true for in Negril they are such professional harassers that everytime I lie down on the beach, some asshole appears putting on a fake American accent and which forces me to have to tell him a bunch of badwords!)
Anyway, even when travelling in white countries, being black is an asset, for if anyone looks at you too hard, you can always scream racism at the top of your voice! Lol.
Anyway, here I was in Guyana marveling at how I go everywhere and see no sign of crime (apart from the domestic murders you read about in the papers), not even someone bawling tief in the crowded Stabroek market (a Trinidadian I met agreed with me that downtown Georgetown has to be the busiest city in Caricom, far busier than downtown Kingston or downtown Port of Spain) or women hugging up their handbags under their arms as we do at home. (I was once in Grenada and a man said to me "You are from Jamaica". When I asked him how he could tell he told me it was because I was hugging my handbag tightly!
Anyway, back to Guyana. On the trip to Kaieteur falls, I met this poor American white guy and guess what? He was robbed twice in two days. poor guy. Here he is sailing around the world in his 39 foot sailboat for the past 3 years and when he gets to Georgetown, as he disembarks in the night at the wharf behind the market, he is robbed by a machete wielding man. Then the next day, they steal the dingy tied on to his yacht. Tough luck foon him but i have not been having anyn problems.
Anyway, I have been seeing these boats coming and going behind the market and decided to see where they were going, for they operate in a really orderly and efficient manner and are safety consciousness is the order of the day.
After about a five minute ride across the huge Demerrara river, I discovered that they end up at a small town full of vendors and shoppers called Dreev-en-Hoop. (The Dutch were the colonial masters before the British, hence the large number of foreign sounding names.)
Anyway, it was just like Georgetown except that whereas there you hear reggae and dancehall music every where you go, here its popular Indian music.
So I did not tarry long. but boy, I had no idea a river could get so rough. It was as rough going back as I have ever seen an ocean and I was wondering if we were going to end up overboard!! However, I noticed that apart from one lady who screamed out, everyone else appeared calm, so I assumed that was normal since that section of the huge Demerrara river is almost at the mouth of the fierce Atlantic Ocean.
Thank heavens it did not end up being a case of curiosity killing the cat!
Why am I off on this tangent today? Because every time I travel, it feels so wonderful to be able to blend in with the rest of the population so no one notices you or worse harasses you. (Well that's not quite true for in Negril they are such professional harassers that everytime I lie down on the beach, some asshole appears putting on a fake American accent and which forces me to have to tell him a bunch of badwords!)
Anyway, even when travelling in white countries, being black is an asset, for if anyone looks at you too hard, you can always scream racism at the top of your voice! Lol.
Anyway, here I was in Guyana marveling at how I go everywhere and see no sign of crime (apart from the domestic murders you read about in the papers), not even someone bawling tief in the crowded Stabroek market (a Trinidadian I met agreed with me that downtown Georgetown has to be the busiest city in Caricom, far busier than downtown Kingston or downtown Port of Spain) or women hugging up their handbags under their arms as we do at home. (I was once in Grenada and a man said to me "You are from Jamaica". When I asked him how he could tell he told me it was because I was hugging my handbag tightly!
Anyway, back to Guyana. On the trip to Kaieteur falls, I met this poor American white guy and guess what? He was robbed twice in two days. poor guy. Here he is sailing around the world in his 39 foot sailboat for the past 3 years and when he gets to Georgetown, as he disembarks in the night at the wharf behind the market, he is robbed by a machete wielding man. Then the next day, they steal the dingy tied on to his yacht. Tough luck foon him but i have not been having anyn problems.
After about a five minute ride across the huge Demerrara river, I discovered that they end up at a small town full of vendors and shoppers called Dreev-en-Hoop. (The Dutch were the colonial masters before the British, hence the large number of foreign sounding names.)
Anyway, it was just like Georgetown except that whereas there you hear reggae and dancehall music every where you go, here its popular Indian music.
So I did not tarry long. but boy, I had no idea a river could get so rough. It was as rough going back as I have ever seen an ocean and I was wondering if we were going to end up overboard!! However, I noticed that apart from one lady who screamed out, everyone else appeared calm, so I assumed that was normal since that section of the huge Demerrara river is almost at the mouth of the fierce Atlantic Ocean.
Thank heavens it did not end up being a case of curiosity killing the cat!
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| No one is allowed to be on the boat without a life jacket. |
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