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A person can go through an array of emotions when they are finally presented with something they have been anticipating. Especially something that they have been anticipating for months. The very accommodating government official who has been assisting WorldTeach found a house very close to the school (I can take a nap here for lunch if I so choose, Alex T style). They are renting the first floor of this house for me. The place is great, I have more furnishings here than I did back in * and some might even say that I am living a little better here (though an AC would be nice…)

Sounds great so far right? Well, this is probably the biggest shock that I have had so far here in Guyana. I went through days, maybe even weeks, preparing myself for the worst living conditions. I read about bird eating spiders, and snakes that could wrap themselves around me twice. I was gladly met with some fairly unaccommodating quarters during the orientation in the capital. Yet, here I am in a place that is a little bit bigger than the place I lived in *. I am even getting a couch and dining set. Honestly, I am a little disappointed. Of course, my reason for coming to teach wasn’t to get some badge of courage for living out in the “bush.” (How Guyanese seem to describe their lush forested interior.)

The secondary school that I am assigned to had orientation and registration for new students this past Friday. The head teacher asked me to come and meet my colleagues and see the school. At the time, I was still staying near the capital. I woke up bright and early, got dressed like I was important and went off on my first minibus adventure. Minibuses are Guyana’s public transportation. I am sure many of you have heard about the horrors of the red buses in India. Well imagine that with a family van (Old Chevy style with the three rows of seats). I am not sure if there are supporting companies for these minibuses or if they are independent but you basically crowd sixteen people (including the driver) into the family van. I don’t mind the crowds, everyone has to get around. The reckless abandon that these minibuses travel with though is very exciting. They rarely stay in one lane, they are always overtaking traffic. This is not all. At random times animals will be crossings the street. Things like cows, dogs, and horses on at various times. Finally, you have people riding their bike on roads where cars are traveling up to 60 km/hr (I have yet to see a speed limit sign in Guyana though.) There were times I would look out the front and fear for my life.

I chose the transportation of death and got to my school 30 minutes early. Now my school is located on a single road that comes off the main highway from the capital. It takes a good fifteen minutes to walk from the main highway (where you catch the bus) to the school. There were some parents waiting outside to get in and register their children. I didn’t know what was going on, so I joined them. Eventually I thought, I should probably try to get inside and see if they are having a special meeting before they herd the folks in. So I talk to the guard in what probably sounds like a foreign language and she lets me in. Unfortunately, the headmaster wasn’t their yet. So I sit in the guard house and begin to g’aff (small conversations, just being friendly). All of a sudden this minibus with four Americans drive into the main school grounds. Some of them were dressed in camouflage. The last thing I expected to see was Americans, especially not soldiers. Initially, I tried walking up to them and starting a conversation but they were ignoring me. I finally one of them that responded back, and started telling them that I am from *, *. One of the guys smiles and says that he thought I was Guyanese. The soldiers were here to give out free medical and dental examinations at the school the week before. They were there to just pick up their supplies. So I let them go about their work and I continue to wait in the guard house.

An hour passes and I am still waiting in the guard house. I’ve run out of things to talk about, and I was really hungry. A teacher finally came fifteen minutes later and started letting the students into the prison, I mean school grounds. What I thought were just a few parents and kids seemed hundreds. I patiently sit in the guard house while the endless array of children and parents form a single line and file in. Finally, I was told by the guard to go to the main office. I went to the office and sat down. Some of the parents thought I was another parent and followed me. Some of them asked me what was going on, I didn’t know how to respond so I just shook my head. After another ten minutes had passed by, a petite woman with very elaborate sunglasses walks in. One of the other women point to me and she begins to walk my way. I guess this was the headmaster.

The headmaster welcomes me, asks me how I am doing and then tells me to follow her. By this time, I stopped counting the amount of people coming into the school. I follow the headmaster up some stairs and we walked into a room. The room was huge and with people packed like sardines. The headmaster motions me to go to the back and sit. She begins to introduce herself and go over things that I couldn’t particularly understand. All of a sudden I hear WorldTeach and she starts pointing at me. I am not sure how many people were in this room but I would of guessed maybe 800. She motions for me to come over and asks me to say something. Now what exactly do I say to a group of kids and parents, who are probably tired for waiting on the orientation to start and who also probably have this wide array of perceptions about Americans. “Good Afternoon, my name is Abel *. I am from the *. My background is in *. I am here to teach Physics, and Mathematics.” Now I should of stopped there, but why quit when you have so many people’s attention. I then said “Kids, as long as you stay quiet and behave, I’ll teach you.” Why would I say that? Not really sure.

Anyway, the headmaster continues on and tells the crowd that I will be teaching mathematics, integrated science (kinda like IPC in Public Schools), and that I will be helping with the computer lab.I didn’t expect the school to have a computer lab. After the conference was over, I walked back to administrative offices where there were a ton of people waiting to ask the headmaster something. I saw an article on the wall and it says that Microsoft and Intel apparently donated some computers to this school only a year ago. It also mentioned that this school was built as a joint development program between the US government and Guyana. After my greatest public speaking endeavor, I decided it was time to head back to the orientation grounds. An hour of fearing for my life later, I am back just in time to hear the ministry of education talk to our group of volunteers.

There is one more interesting thing that happened over this past weekend. For our stay, I guess that there were some hired guards. The guards were supposed to get payed that afternoon, but unfortunately they didn’t received their money. So these guards, in their various ways, started soliciting for money because we were Americans. This was a fairly sound business model seeing that they are asking a group of compassionate volunteers for money. They would say things like “You are American, so you should give us money.” It really put me in an awkward situation. I knew that if I gave one guard some money, others would begin to ask. At the same time, we all have a heart and we don’t like seeing other humans suffering. This one guard kept trying to get money though. I had met this guard before, and he usually smelled like alcohol. So I asked the guy how he could expect me to give him money when he would just spend it on rum. He just says “that was only a couple of times,” and just walked away. Later that night, he again started asking me and other people for money. I finally gave in and gave the guy some money. Like I said before, it must suck being poor in a developing country. Until next time.

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