Beach Walks: Not All That They're "Chalk"ed Up To Be

An open question to my readers: If and when you travel, do you ever get tired of people asking about your trip or having to repeat stories and experiences?
 

As I sit here in the oddly warm clime that is upstate New York currently, I can't help but ponder on how many times Ribz and I have collectively recounted our adventurous adventures to others. We've been able to enjoy in times recent quite a few visitors from out of state who have come to visit Bethel. Personally I have absolutely no problem sounding like a broken record player, telling friends what we got to do in Guyana time and time again. I fell in love with the country and the yearbook-like experiences, and when I share them, I hope that my listeners enjoy and maybe fall in love a little too.
 

Well, you didn't come here to listen to me ramble, right?  Story time, folks! Today's tale will take you to a perilous and dangerous expedition through...a beach!
 

A beach? Perilous? Dangerous?  Nonsense! How is that even possible?
 

It started out innocently enough. Ribz and I had each respectively enjoyed our service days out in the village territory. Considering the heat and humidity, I had made tentative plans to meet up with some of the young local sisters to a swimming hot-spot known as Johnson Beach. This beach, located in front of the house of one of the Orealla Congregation's elders, caresses the crescent-shaped edge of the village's riverside boundary. The golden stretch of sandy goodness extends to one of the area's loveliest sights: Chalk Hill Beach. Our game plan was to start at Johnson and, by walking alongside the water, ultimately make it to Chalk Hill.
 

Hindsight is a devious little thing. It makes you realize all the signs you probably were not keen to at the moment....such as no one showing up at the beach after service. Maybe the friends knew sonething would happen, but I found myself at Johnson Beach alone save for Ribz and Charlie (to read a full informative of Mr. Charlie Brohard's previous Guyana experience,  check out Josh Westfall's interview on his blog nutso42.blogspot.com). Us three Americanos decided to take the trek ourselves, enjoying the golden sand beneath our inexperienced feet.
 

The circumstance we did not consider ended up being our near-downfall: the tide. At that moment, the ground was fairly dry,  but the river water started eagerly licking at our toes and retreating back just as swiftly. We attempted not noticing, but the inevitable was certain. The boys and I had been walking a few minutes already when we felt the water inching its way up our legs. I was wearing a long black skirt over my swimsuit, and let me tell you: BAD IDEA.  It served as a wick, sopping up liquid faster than I could squeeze it out.
 

I could wax poetic and describe how lovely the currents of the Correntyne River appear from an aerial point of view, swirling in Van Gogh-esque designs past the land mass....but not now. In that moment, the pulsating ferocity of the current clutching our rapidly submerging bodies was anything but artistic or romantic. We were neck deep and nowhere near our destination. We'd reached past the point where we could exit the shoreline via the neighboring hills, so we shouldered on bravely. Charlie and I were both treading water cautiously while Ribz kept his backpack barely aloft in one solitary hand, each of us clutching helplessly to the conveniently close-growing mangrove trees for dear life.
 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we MADE IT. We plopped our weary selves on the beautiful white sand of Chalk Hill, the tide thankfully receding to a normal state. Our legs were scratched and bruised, our clothing wet beyond all reason, but we crowed with victory and triumph.  Could we have died? Possibly. Was it totally worth the incredible story? Well....
 

*innocent smile*

WE MADE IT!!!!!!

Next time I will attempt to not be so foolhardy on my Adventurous Adventures, but what a story!!!

Well, dear readers, that's it for today. Hope you enjoyed!  Stay tuned for the next post, whenever it shall be. The posting will be much less frequent due to my schedule and whatnot, but thank you for reading!!!

 

Love,

The Adventurous A.

Q & A!!! Featuring Blog Guest Jonatan "Ribz" Camacho

We asked, you responded. My travel partner and I now happily present the Guyana Adventure Q &A!!! We shall designate specific text colors by whoever is responding: green for Ribz, purple for yours truly, and orange for joint answers.

 

On to the questions, folks!

QUESTION 1: WHY GUYANA? HOW DID YOU MAKE THAT THE COUNTRY OF CHOICE?

Plenty have asked if Guyana was the first choice. Frankly, it was not. I personally had not even paid any sort of attention to it until the summer of 2014. I was working at Wallkill in the blueberry harvest when I came across a very odd fellow named Josh Westfall. Interestingly, he, my brother and I got along great and became friends during the 6 weeks he served there. He had just recently come back from serving in Guyana and was after Bethel going to work and save up to return there. His stories of the country were intriguing, but at the time we didn't have any ideas of visiting...

Fast forward to February of 2015. I was making very early idea plans to travel to Ecuador with someone but the plans fell through. I felt down about it, but Ribz stepped up and volunteered to be my travel buddy! He had saved up enough vacation days at Bethel to take a whole month off. Now the question remained, where to go? Ecuador? Somewhere else? We had kept in contact with Josh the whole time and when informed about our predicament, he immediately invited us to go to where he was(and still is) serving in Orealla. He came back to the States that July for a work trip and we got together and got the necessary arrangements. That's how we got to here!

Needless to say, we fell in love with it and now cannot stop talking about Guyana!

QUESTION 2: HOW MANY TIMES DID YOU TWO ARGUE?

Ummm, I'm trying to remember....hey sis did we? (pause for thought) If we did, it was with such scarcity that I don't recall. We don't argue when we're home as it is.

Sorry everyone, but it's true: we don't argue. We just get along famously!

QUESTION 3: WHAT WAS THE BIGGEST UNEXPECTED LIFE LESSON LEARNED FROM YOUR TIME THERE?

I guess one of the biggest things I learned personally was that when you stop doubting, there is SO much to experience. Serving in Orealla helped me have now a better attitude towards my home territory. I never thought I'd enjoy the kind of experiences you would only read about in our Yearbooks.

I am tougher than I thought. I thank Jehovah that He allowed me the opportunity to stretch myself out and extend my previous limits. Eat iguana? DONE. Wake up daily at 5? DONE. Walk a village in the dark with no flashlight? DONE. I have been able to grow and now await with anticipation my next adventurous adventure.


QUESTION 4: WHAT WAS SOMETHING YOU WERE SURPRISED TO LEARN THAT YOU COULD LIVE WITHOUT?

This may be a very typical response, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that I could live without the common American commodities (electricity, running water, flush toilets, etc.). This was my, well our, first time out of the country (no Ribz, Canada does not count...), and being such I thought it would not be a smooth transition. However, it went well and I found myself adjusted within a couple of days in the village.

FOOD. Not that we were lacking, but I had to adjust into eating way less than I would in the States. I have an appetite! It was a lesson in modesty and took some getting used to. Hey, I lost 15 lbs down there, so THAT'S good!!!

I think we could agree that we both had the same attitude going there: become like the locals. Do as they do, live like they do. We didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable with us foreigners, so we strove to integrate into the culture as much as we could.

QUESTION 5: HOW WAS THE SPIRITUAL CLIMATE OF THE PEOPLE AND THE CONGREGATION?

The general attitude is one of interest. The people are very attentive and spiritually inclined. We left behind 10 Bible studies, if that tells you anything of the preaching! Preaching to the kids was always a joy. Sharing the Caleb and Sophia videos were quite the hit, attracting the miniatures by the crowd!

The congregation in Orealla is like an Altoid: small but curiously strong! They have only 5 pioneers, but the love of the ministry can be seen definitely. One outstanding experience that was relayed to me recently of my beloved hostess Sherine. She was auxiliary pioneering in December, when she got a REALLY bad stomach flu. She, her daughter Phoebe, and little sister Joanne all caught the nasty bug. They were determined to finish their time, sickness notwithstanding, and they DID!! Their example, along with many others from the friends there, really were faith-strengthening.

QUESTION 6: HOW EXTENSIVE WAS THE CONGREGATION'S TERRITORY?

Seeing that Orealla has only about 2000 people living there, it is fairly easy to cover the whole territory within a short amount of time. For more details regarding the particulars of Orealla, you should check out nutso42.blogspot.com

QUESTION 7: DO YOU MISS IT?

YES, YES, AND YES!!!!!!

I feel like those incredibly proud new parents who show off their kid's photos to EVERYBODY. Guyana in general, Orealla, and the brothers and sisters there are all my babies now. Anytime someone asks me "How was your trip?", I feel kind of bad for them because I immediately begin talking a mile a minute about all things Guyana. A piece of my heart got left behind there. 

Absolutely! That is all I ever (ahem) dreeeeeeeeeam, dreeeam dreeeeeam dreeeeeeam of. (obviously sung to the tune of "Dream" by the Everly Brothers")

QUESTION 8: WOULD YOU GO BACK?


OF COURSE!!!

 There you have it, friends and readers! Thank you all who submitted questions, this was very fun to talk about. I hope you have enjoyed getting some more background and getting to know more of the inner workings of our trip.


Stay tuned for the next post!

Love,

The Adventurous A.

Cassa(va) Blanca Part 2

Of  all the blogs, in all the towns, in all the world, you walk into mine...

Hello again readers! The last post left off with the conclusion of our first day of cassava bread making. Now it's time to hop into the second half!

CASSAVA ADVENTURES PART 2

I awoke much earlier than usual, already mentally geared to arrive at Sis Hendricks' house bright eyed and bushy-tailed. My normal time to leave Sherine's house each morning was 5 am, but I set out to meet up with the boys at 4:40 ish. What I did NOT foresee happening was another incident (yes yes ANOTHER one)...

Before my tale of early morning woe, I would like to share with you all a scripture. Why,  you ask? This scripture (unintentionally discovered by Senior Camacho,  thanks dad) perfectly describes the situation I found myself in.
Psalm 22:16 reads "For dogs surround me; They close in on me like a pack of evildoers, Like a lion they are at my hands and feet." Got the clue?

That's right, I was rushed by a gang of unhappy canines. I was not ready whatsoever when the first two pooches showed up on my route. Apparently they did not recognize me in the weak dawn light. At the sound of their growls, I sidestepped gingerly out of their way while they glared at me.  I thought I was doing pretty well when doggy #3 charged from my left. Like the first two, this one did not go past its designated yard area. I was completely unarmed, praying aloud in hopes of calming my raging  heart. #4 was the boldest, actively running in my direction until it forced me to walk into the ditch right alongside the road.

If you read the first half of the Cassava Adventures, you'll remember  that it ended on the wrong foot (PUN INTENDED), with a bloody toe injury. The endeavor to avoid the mangy furballs caused my wound to start bleeding and hurting again. *sigh* After a few minutes of walking away with my arms extended high above my head "menacingly", they left me alone to hobble the rest of the way to Josh's in pain.

Upon my arrival, a sleepy-eyed Charlie informed me of an unfortunate turn of circumstances: Josh could not join us for the day's cassava duties due to getting violently ill in the night. Apparently, the smoke of cooking casareep contains just enough cyanide that if exposed for long enough, can make one sick. He'd taken too much in while hanging out at the Hendricks' bottom house, and was finally sleeping it off. Charlie opted to stay and make sure he was ok,  leaving us Camachos to handle the job.

Ribz and I made great time and arrived at 5:00 sharp! Tete was already wide awake prepping the dried cassava blocks. Jonatán was put onto lumber chopping, and I was taken to the mother of all mortar and pestles I've ever seen in my life.  I kid you not, this thing is HUGE! Made of solid wood, it is most definitely an arm workout.

My job was to pound the cassava to the consistency of flour. I was taken off this duty within a half hour when sharp-eyed Tete observed the newbie blisters on my softened foreigner hands. The assignment switched to sifting the ground flour into a large basket, the fine powder drifting like snow. In the meantime,  Tete lit the fire and prepared her giant flat pan. It's essentially one large flat skillet balanced on 3 low burning stumps. She then would take the sifted flour and spread it across the pan, forming a large round flatbread. Watching her bread  carefully, she employed the use of a straw fan-like tool  to flip the bread when golden and toasty. She then proceeded to take it off and let it finish drying in the sun.

The whole thing took us from 5 am to maybe 12 noon. Tete rewarded us with breakfast and a nap in her homemade hammock. Along with this, she sweetly said that we were becoming more Amer-Indian, the best kind of compliment!

That's it for the Cassava Adventures. Stay tuned for the next post!

Love,

The Adventurous A.