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.

Cassa(va) Blanca Part 1

As time goes by and the regular routine sets in, I find myself reminiscing on not just the incredible theocratic activities but also the day by day activities of Orealla. My personal goal (which I plan on applying wherever my adventurous adventures take me) was and is still to integrate into the cultures of my current location. Anyone who knows me knows how much I LOVE hands-on kind of work. It'll come as no surprise, then, that one of my favorite moments experiencing Guyana culture was making cassava bread. The entire process takes approximately 3 days but seeing as I only got to participate in only 2 of said days, this will ergo be a two-part blog post. Fortunately they weren't easy days to forget, I remember every detail...

CASSAVA ADVENTURES DAY 1 (technically day 2 but eh)

November 16

The previous day (Sunday the 15), our adopted Amer-Indian grandmother, Janet Hendricks (otherwise known as Tete*), had approached our little gang and had offered us a chance to help with this quintessential task of making said bread. Naturally, we jumped at the opportunity to help! The beginning process would have been walking to her cassava farm uphill to gather the needed tubers. Sadly, it rained on what would have been our first work day and we ended up missing Tete going to harvest. She's a spunky granny, and quite the hard worker! She did not give up on us pitiful foreigners and told us to come back Monday at 3 to continue helping.

The four of us (Ribz, Charlie Brohard, Josh Westfall, and yours truly) prepped ourselves in the frumpiest work clothes, ready to tackle the work! We walked the 5 minute distance to the Hendricks house and found Tete and her friend Claudia already busy. We were put to our respective tasks: Charlie, Josh and I got put into scraping and peeling duty, while Ribz oversaw cleaning the cassava. The particular batch of cassava they had harvested was bitter cassava, a main staple but potentially deadly. Why, you ask? If not peeled and cooked correctly, bitter cassava gives off cyanide. You can imagine that we took our cleaning process VERY seriously. The Hendricks had the assembly line figured out to a T: grab a cassava root, chop off the end, scrape off all the brown bark-like skin, drop it in a quake or basket, wash it thoroughly, grate it, repeat. The locals do this quite regularly, so it was highly amusing to watch us amateurs going at it.

Here's looking at you, kid

Once the cassava was grated into a wooden trough and the juices ran off into a bucket, we were introduced to a most important tool of the trade: the matapee.

Shaped like the body of an anaconda, this cylindrical strainer is woven from reeds traditionally. There are two loops attached; one is on top where the opening is, whilst the other hangs below the sealed end. It is meant to hang from the top loop high enough above the ground to allow a bowl or bucket to be placed underneath. A large stick is then put through the bottom loop, and that's where it gets interesting. The grated cassava gets placed inside the matapee until almost full, and one person sits on the stick below to pull and drain out all the liquid from the cassava mush. This has to be done carefully so as to not force the mush to pop out into the liquid below, which is highly valued as a cooked sauce called cassareep. The trick is to SIT VERY STILL. Since the heaviest person there gets the privilege of stick-sitting, obviously to our delight we watched poor Jonatán try to converse and get the job done without moving. If you know my brother, I will leave how that went to your imagination...

Tete showing us how the pros do it

Two of us equaled one Jonatan #heftybai

After the cassava was squeezed of its poisonous liquid twice, it was popped out of the matapee to dry outside the rest of the night. This was the final bit to remove the cyanide prior to being turned into bread. At this point (between 5-6 pm) Tete informs us that the first part of the process was finished. We would be more than welcome to help with the actual bread making if we would arrive there the next day at 5 am. Here are the responses from each of us:

Adventurous A: Of course! We'd love to!!! *bounces excitedly*
Charlie: Mmmm sure. Ok *blinks twice* I'll come. *scrunches face thoughtfully*
Josh: *laughs maniacally* great, I'll see you at 9 then.
Ribz: *also laughing* you're joking, right Tete?

Tete: *eyes widen* I AM NOT JOKING. *sighs* You are not Amer-Indian...

That did it for me. As soon as this adorably feisty little lady said that, I knew that I HAD to be there at 5 am sharp. I was determined to become an honorary Amer-Indian and not wimp out on her. The opportunity to prove my willingness to integrate was too good to miss.

We gathered all the cassava juice and rolled it back to the main house, where it would cook for several hours in a GIGOSMIC pot on a rapid fire. In the meantime, in typical hospitable Guyanese style, Tete invited us sweaty young folk to eat dinner with the whole Hendricks clan. While Ribz stayed upstairs with Tete's gregarious grandson Matthäus, the rest of us stayed downstairs at the bottom watching the future cassareep bubble and brew furiously. As we settled into the calm lull of conversation, I inwardly rejoiced at the feeling of home that Sis. Hendricks and her family had extended towards us. Jonatán and I were taken in and treated so very kindly, a true example of the worldwide brotherhood. These friends, as honest as the day was long, were becoming family...

Future Cassareep

In process Cassareep

 I would like to say that the adventures of the day ended on that high note, but alas, that would not be the case for us. Josh took his leave first, feeling very tired, leaving Charlie, Ribz and myself to head back to the boys' house before dropping me off at Sherine's. After our goodbyes and promises to return early the next morning, we started walking in the dark. Ribz took the front with his head torch, as I tried to put on the flashlight app on my ever-present tablet. As I turned it on, all I felt was my entire left side collapse and fall straight down. Unbeknownst to me, the little wooden bridge right outside of the Hendricks house was rotting away on one side and I'd made the terrible mistake of stepping on that spot carelessly. It was only about a 2 foot drop into a ditch, but I could feel pain radiating from my entire leg. Holding back tears, I got out onto stable ground, only to see my left foot soaked in blood. I could see that my big toe was the culprit, a large ugly gash angrily gushing red liquid all over my flip-flop. The boys helped me steady myself and lit the way back while I limped along. Every step only exacerbated the wound. Ribz, being the gentleman he is, offered to give me a piggyback ride, but I didn't want to get him all stained. With wounded toe and pride, we made it back with no other incidents. After a thorough cleaning with some vodka at hand (and a couple of swigs for pains sake haha), I got the toe wrapped up and ready to go. Fortunately no stitches were needed, much to my mother's relief. I now bear it as a trophy from that day.

Whew, well that's it for the first half! Hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed penning it. By the way, if you want to see my scar, just ask next time you see me. Just kidding, just kidding.... or am I?!? Hmm maybe instead of your last thought being a bloody toe, here's the gorgeous sunset prior to my injury!

"This scene could TOTALLY be in Vietnam. Except with more rice patties. And Asians." - Joshua Westfall

That's better.

Stay tuned for the next post!

Love,

The Adventurous A.

*Tete is the local Arawak word for grandmother

Nom-Noms of Guyana: Orealla Edition

Hello lovely readers! I apologize for the long periods between posts. I am recently back in the States (two weeks at the time of this post), and am falling back into my regular home/service/work pattern. Your patience and audience is much appreciated! I have my photos downloaded and will attempt to post more of our fun adventures in the days to come.

 Now then, are you feeling hungry? I know I am!! I think it's high time for yet another food-related post.

BRING ON THE NOM-NOMS!!!!!!!!!!

Before we begin, I will note that it is very interesting the noticeable differences of cooking between Skeldon and Orealla. Culturally, there is a strong Indian/East Indie influence in Skeldon, proven by the frequency of roti, curry, and turmeric. How would I describe Orealla's cuisine? Hmmm. I just consulted my partner in crime and travel and he captured it well: totally dependent on what is available, but still outstanding. Due to the fact that Orealla relies heavily on either home-grown crops or the twice-a-week boat arrivals from the coast, the food supplies can vary from day to day. This, however, does little to impede the generous hospitable personality of her residents. Put simply, whatever the people have, they will share. Their palms stay open and their hearts are even more so.

Now that I have boasted sufficiently about my dear lovely little Orealla, ONTO THE FOOD!!!!

Cashew: (the sound of a nut sneezing)
For future reference, Orealla is PACKED with fruit trees. EVERYWHERE. This ended up being a refreshing blessing, especially for hot service days when your water bottle would run dry. This happy-colored fruit grows plentifully and is delicious. The cashew fruit is an extremely juicy fruit, commonly harvested for the popular nut-seed hanging from the bottom. One bite and immediately juice begins squirting out. Be warned, though! This very juice can stain like nothing else, leaving unpalatable yellow and brown streaks that take plenty of washes to remove.

Padoo: The ice-cream fruit! A favorite among Orealla's tiny tykes (or as I affectionately refer to as "miniature humans"), the padoo resembles a pea pod at first glance. Inside lies the REAL treasure. Hidden within are usually 3 dark brown seeds enveloped in a white soft pulp. THAT. IS. DELICIOUS. No wonder children and adult alike adore it. We caught the very tail-end of its growing season, but at least we got to savor the flavor. This was high up on my favorite fruit list, most definitely.

 

 

 

Guinep: Now this fruit I was already somewhat familiar with prior to our trip. Latin Caribbean markets carry this tiny gem, usually under the name mamoncillo or quenepa. Reminiscent of a tiny lime, it is as well a seed fruit encased in a bright light-orange pulp. A bite into the skin bursts it and reveals the goodness inside, mmmmmm.

 



 

 

 As a quick side note, just last week out in service, a young lady from El Salvador offered us guineps as a snack during her study. One taste took me straight back into my beloved village. *insert dramatic sigh* Meeeeeeeemoriiiiies....

 

 

ANYWAYS.

 

 Butterflop and Bake: These ALMOST deserve a post of their own. Both breads are staples of the greatest kind. If you love bread(goodness knows Ribz and I do!), you would definitely enjoy them. Bake is a treat you'll find pretty much all over Guyana, so it seems. Vendors on the street, gramophone-bearing taxis, and restaurants alike sell them inexpensively. It's a triangular fried bread, simple in itself but tasty. It can be stuffed with anything from saltfish to potato to coconut shreds, very versatile.

 

  

Bake and Cart-Witnessing, perfect combo!

 

Butterflop is the perfect marriage of LOTS AND LOTS OF BUTTER, fresh bread and MORE BUTTER. There is one man in Orealla that, despite knowing his actual name, we would refer to as "Butterflop Man" due to his buttery prowess. If and when you can make it to Orealla someday, look for Winston on a Wednesday or Friday. For $1,000 Guyanese (or $5 US) you can get 10 hot butterflops and have a yummy companion for your morning coffee.

 

The secret to life is.....butter. (read with a French accent)



We tried an assortment of meats down there as well; bush cow, jungle deer, even paca (labba in the local Arawak language. It's an ROUS. If you understand this reference, you get a virtual hug). Not as many pictures of said meat, but still tasty!

 

Mouth watering yet? If you travel to Guyana, you will have a culinary experience for sure!

 

Thanks a lot and stay tuned for the next post!

 

Love,

 

The Adventurous A.

Whoa, Big Momma!!!! (Days #5 & #6, November 3 & 4)

In honor of what went down Tuesday of our arrival, I have composed a haiku dedicated to my Burgundy wine/chocolate colored hammock.

Oh hammock my dear
Swinging lightly in the breeze
Makes me so lazy

In a nutshell, this is how the rest of the day was.

After the terrible spider incident (see Day #4 for details), we awoke very early in order to take our possessions back to Josh's place. I do not remember if I've mentioned this before, but Guyana does not observe Daylights Saving. Ergo, at this time of year, the sun is coming up easily between 4:50-5:00 am. For extremely happy earlybirds such as myself (no seriously, I'm SUCH a morning person. No sarcasm.), this would be most excellent.

If you have never spent the day in a hammock...you have to. You MUST. There is nothing more relaxing than rocking gently in sublime warm sunny weather, the air sweet with purity and light, as comfy and snug as lint in a belly button. The only responsibilities we had for that day were to unpack and do laundry.

Laundry? But Alyssa, if there's scarce electricity in Orealla, WHERE would you do laundry?
Why, in the same place you would do your bathing: THE RIVER. The Correntyne River, that is, the very heart and core of this humble village. If you have never done your laundry in the middle of a hot afternoon while submerged in a cool river, I HIGHLY recommend it. Your tan will inevitably darken plus you get some swim time in! Just mind the water at night, there may be unwelcome critters lurking....

I ended up meeting my gracious hostess that very evening. Sherine Patterson and her rambunctious daughter Phoebe (who will be referenced PLENTY in the course of my Guyana blogs) lovingly opened up their home for me to stay in. Our first evening together consisted of singing Kingdom Melodies together in preparation for the meeting the next day. Solid evidence of the worldwide brotherhood!

Day #6 commenced the first of MANY enjoyable service days involving cart witnessing. Orealla was the first congregation to receive this gift in the entire country, and the friends have made very good use of it. This morning saw us hauling it up a hill aptly named Big Momma Hill, enough potholes and rough edges to make your legs wobble a tad. It was a productive couple of hours, most of the response happening within a half hour of us packing away our trusty wheels/racks/books/tracts buddy.

Fast forward to the meeting now. The Orealla congregation has about 31 publishers, an absolute delight! The thing about small congregations, however,  is that you're likely to be used for a part on VERY short notice. As in 20 minutes before the meeting begins.  Which is exactly what happened. Sherine was the one who approached me and asked me to be her householder that night for the #3. Nervous does NOT capture the feeling! Nevertheless,  it's the PERFECT way to quickly introduce yourself into a new congregation! EVERYONE can learn your name fast right off the bat. Mwahaha.

That is all for now,  stay tuned for the next post!

Love,

The Adventurous A.

Wem Bai? Wem Gyal? (Blog Nugget #2)

In the month we've been living in Guyana, it has exposed us to quite a different style of speech. Guyanese Creolese (a pidgin/creole English) at first can be difficult to understand. Once you surround yourself and delve into the pattern, you will find yourself not only understanding but even speaking it! This may be either a post of educating my beloved readers, or more as a pre-return warning if suddenly you can't understand what I'm saying.

Let the reader use discernment....

Without further ado, the Dictionary!


Gyal: Girl
Bai: Boy
Teefing: Stealing
Gaffing: Chatting, talking, social visit
Liming: Hanging out
Horning: Cheating
Wem Bai/Gyal?: What's happening, what's up?
De: The
She: Her
He: Him
Me: My
Dey, Abi Dey: Them
"Tr" sound: replaces "thr" sound,  Eg tree instead of three
"T" sound: replaces "th" (ending sound), Eg eart instead of earth
Contractions are pretty much nonexistent. Possessives are also not used frequently.

There are plenty of other terms and phrases and words that I cannot remember off the top of my head. If anyone has more to add, feel free to leave a comment below!

Stay tuned for the next post!

Love,

The Adventurous A.

STOP! HAMMOCK TIME! (Day #4, November 2)

The long-awaited Monday arrived. Only a few hours away from making it to our new home for the next month. The atmosphere was quite abuzz, given the last minute preparations that needed to be done prior to our boat ride. Ribz and I were introduced to a Skeldon staple:

THE MARKET.

Only in videos and pictures of other countries had I ever witnessed the systematic chaos of an outdoor town market. The cacophony completely encased all your senses. The pungent scents of freshly caught fish,  ground spices, and sweaty humanity stewed in the air. Creolese flowed as freely as the multitudes, greetings and  sales pitches blended in the mix. We knew what we came for, but in all truth and honesty, market on an empty stomach is probably not your best bet. We made our way out of the market to grab a bite.

After indulging in some fish curry, roti, and mauby (very refreshing drink made from buckthorn bark, even better with rum in it 😉), we returned to market with the goal of buying hammocks. In the case of Guyana, hammocks are as much a social necessity as they are a comfort. Gaffing and liming (see "Wem Bai? Wem Gyal?" post for definitions) would be terribly impeded without hammocks. Hammocks are the very breeding grounds of fine conversation, hours of peaceful studying or book reading, and plenty of laughs. With the purchase of said hammocks, this would be somewhat a rite of passage into the very lifestyle of the Guyanese.

Ok MAYBE I'm exaggerating, but still! You get the point.

Post hammock buying, we walked out to the dock to set up our luggage in the Orealla boat. Generally, the boats stay at dock enough time for all passengers to put their belongings in safely. Our ride wouldn't be leaving till around 7 ish, so we had time to kill.

Gaffing, or epic beatbox competition? You decide...

The time period between is a blur in my brain, just due to all the excitement. So much excitement, in fact, that when it came time for the boat to leave, I didn't even bother with laying down in the hammock. Josh,  Charlie and I scrambled to the roof of the boat and laid our heads back for an epic night of star-gazing while Jonatán stayed inside chatting away.

(Check an upcoming post for more details regarding that gorgeous night.)

5-6 hours simultaneously felt stretched out and quick as we traversed the Correntyne River past Suriname. Sleep escaped the 4 of us as we beheld the beauty and serenity of the best boat ride I've been in yet. We finally made it around 1 AM to the Stelling (Orealla dock). There, a couple named the Frances awaited our arrival and patiently assisted us with moving our stuff to our accommodations. Whilst Josh and Charlie would be retiring to their usual home, Ribz and I would be staying the night at the house behind the Kingdom Hall. The coordinator of the congregation and his wife (Sigmund and Amanda Mckenzie) generously opened their downstairs apartment for us to bed in.

What, you think that's it? WRONG! In typical Camacho fashion, some sort of odd adventure was bound to crop up, right?

After the couple went back to bed, Ribz and I made the bed and got ready to finally go to sleep. Except.....there was a third party present in the room. A good-sized  spider decided it would be nice to have a sleepover in the corner. Naturally, my initial reaction was pull out Ki-Ki (my constant companion camera) & immediately start taking pictures of it. My brother's reaction? Not so gracious. 😂 in an attempt to rid the room of the unwelcome roommate, Jonatán struck valiantly with a flip flop, but alas it dashed away into the night. This rendered me in tears of laughter and my brother quite awake for next 3 hours or so.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNN!!!!!!

No worries, the spider reappeared and was promptly "taken care of."

So much for a calm first night in Orealla!

Stay tuned for the next post!

Love,

The Adventurous A.

Tenisha and the Tablet (Blog Nugget #1)

Do you remember a moment in this life where everything you have ever worked for, everything you have ever worked for, everything you've tried and fought for and reached out for, culminates into a single event that validates all your efforts? I have lived a very satisfying life, it's been truly my privilege that I live for Jehovah. I had a moment while in Skeldon that captures this exact sentiment. Let's go back to this important Sunday (November 1, Day #3)

Or rather, let's start with an email, dated October 8, 2015.

In preparation for this trip, we had sent emails to both Josh and Kayla asking if there was anything either them or anyone else in their area needed or wanted from the States. In the reply message from Kayla, one point stood out: she asked for nothing for herself. Here's the excerpt from that particular email:


            As for me, I'd like to inquire of something,  do you know of any brother or sister near you who has an older electronic device that you can put the jw app on that they don't use anymore and are willing to part with. I have a diligent and studious bible student, who just joined the school and became a publisher.  I would love for her to have something she could do more research on. If not that's ok, but if you ask around and it's available,  that would be so awesome






Unselfishly, Kayla requested this tablet for the lovely Tenisha. Seeing that her home circumstances are not particularly favorable to her studying and progressing, the fact that she continues to grow spiritually is beautiful to behold. My family and I were determined to see to it that she somehow got her tablet. But how? So the search began!

I started by asking some of my fellow Bethelites if they might keep their eyes peeled for said tablet in the hoppers or donated. A few days turned up no results, much to our dismay. With the leave date approaching, the Camacho clan brainstormed. Collaborative efforts bred this idea: use social media to ask around. I took to my Instagram account and posted a request for any of my followers to please help in the search.

A day after posting, a reply came! A brother from New Mexico messaged me and informed me that he happened to have a tablet in excellent working condition that had the JW Library app and other apps installed already. He promptly mailed it and within 5 days it was in New York. Jehovah truly answered prayers there!!!!

Fast forward to November 1, at Lena's house.

The majority of the guests had left us, leaving only Kayla, Tenisha and myself. We had finished the study, nearly complete with the Bible Teach book. For some odd reason, I truly did not expect to be present for whenever Kayla decided to gift Tenisha with the tablet. The next several minutes were heart-warming.

Kayla casually mentioned how proud she was of her progress, and how Jehovah was even more proud of her. She reassured Tenisha of His approval and that no matter what, He would make sure to bless her for all her efforts and perseverance. She then proceeded to pull the tablet out of her purse and give it to Tenisha.

The poor girl began to weep profusely.

This in turn made ME start crying.

The appreciation that poured out of her was so very genuine, one couldn't help but be swept in that precious and perfect moment. THIS was all worth it. In that small time period, all of OUR efforts to get to Guyana were completely worth it. The happiness overflowed massively. She gave me the biggest hug and couldn't say thanks enough.

I promised I wouldn't post a picture of that moment, but if you ever want to see either the brief video or pictures I took, feel free to ask to see them next time we hang out.

That's all for now, hope you enjoyed the first Blog Nibblet!

Stay tuned for the next post!

Love,


The Adventurous A.

Day #3 (November 1)

Feelin' kinda Sunday!

Yet another beautiful hot hot day, naturally, as we headed out to the Brighton Congregation's meeting. Caught a ride with Kayla to pick up her student, Ria (see Day #2 for details). So young but so eager to go! This put us all in quite a good mood. It took about 40 minutes to reach the Kingdom Hall via car, which with the general hilarity of the car group went by very quickly.

The public talk ended up being VERY well timed. It was given by an elder from the Mahaicony congregation named Steve Booth, geared specifically to the youth. I could see Ria paying full attention, eyes never leaving the speaker except to find the scriptures. She even got to comment a couple of times!

Privileged to have been present for Ria's first meeting

The Chans

Brighton Kingdom Hall

Don't worry, didn't forget Mark!!!

After associating with the congregation a tad, Kayla and I took Ria back home. No plans? No problem! We set out for Lena's house to hang out. Transportation, however, would prove to be...interesting. You see, the cars and busses do not run with any kind of regularity on Sundays. The two of us ended up finally catching a typical  overstuffed minibus to Lena's.

When we arrived, we found her and her daughter Nadia busy at work seeding baigan (see Nom-Noms of Guyana post for details). The process of seeding is a fascinating one. You take the veggie and roll it back and forth either with your shoe or bare foot (I opted for shoe because, well, shoe). This loosens the seeds inside, making it easier to start the next step. The baigan is then submerged in a large bucket of water and burst, releasing the seeds. The bad seeds, full of air and rot, will immediately rise to the surface, whereas the good seed will sink to the bottom. After bursting and seeding all the baigan, the top layer of bad seed gets skimmed and the rest of the water gets strained to catch the good seed. The remaining seed is then left out in the sun to dry and be used for the next planting season.

BAIGAN!!!

Naturally, upon seeing the process, Kayla and I set out to help them along. It was soooooooo fun. Our hard work was rewarded with more iguana, plantain chips, a bunch of local fruit and ice cream. This branched off into gaffing with the family and visiting friends who swung by. Among this group was a very progressive study named Tenisha. I will go into more details regarding her in the next post.

After spending a few good hours at Lena's, we headed back to Kayla's to meet up the boys. An extremely welcome gift in the form of our missing Guyana guy awaited there. Charlie Brohard, the second brother whom we had dropped off at the airport earlier in the month with Josh, had fallen ill and had to receive medical attention in Skeldon. Personally, I hadn't thought he'd been able to join us to go back to Orealla, but he recovered enough! The Guyana team was reunited! The night concluded with a rather engaging Skype call with one of the main contacts and helpers to our trip, Tom and Michelle Sanchez (see nutso42.blogspot.com post for the picture evidence).

Stay tuned for the next post!

Love,

The Adventurous A.

Nom-Noms of Guyana: Georgetown/Skeldon Edition

If I have anything to say regarding the food here in Guyana so far, it's DELICIOUS! The Guyanese have a penchant for having savory hearty meals for every time of day. Snacks? Hearty. Breakfast? Hearty. Lunch? Hearty? Dinner? Hearty.

Hearty Har Har.

Here's a run-down on the yummy tummy treats Ribz and I have enjoyed in the small period of time in Georgetown/ Skeldon.

Baigan: eggplant. The way I enjoyed it at Kayla's house was roasted directly on the gas stove. It's cut open and stuffed with chopped onion and garlic. After that, the flesh is scooped out of its skin and smooshed together and eaten with crackers.

Channa: garbanzo beans fried in coconut milk and various spices. Common street snack. Basically whatever you want to season it with is fair game.

Chow Mein: Apparently there's a large Chinese influence in Guyana, so you'll find quite a number of Chinese restaurants scattered through Skeldon. Personally, the place I went was not impressive at all, in my opinion. Here's hoping that the next time I'm in Skeldon I'll find a better experience than the first time.

Curry: GAAAAAAAH. The staple!! I can't even begin to describe the deliciousness of curry. Saucy, spicy, flavorful, I only have good things to say. It's a culinary chimera chameleon. Fish curry, chicken curry, you name it they've got it! Paired with white rice, it's used for whatever meal you so desire.

Eddo: The edible corm of the taro root. Boiled into the consistency of mashed potatoes, if seasoned correctly it is very "crave-worthy".

Icee: You remember the frozen juice/syrup/chemical liquid sticks that haunt every single summer, cutting the  edge of your mouth but taste AMAZING? Well here in Guyana they take the same liquid but use it to make soda. Excellent idea, Guyana, good job.

Iguana: yes yes I did it. I ate it. I ate iguana. Sorry Sandy, you were an awesome pet but my goodness, your kind make a great lunch. This is what Lena (Day #2) made us. Believe me, I had quite the mental debate prior to consumption. Refuse to eat and save face, or have bragging rights FOREVER....tough no? Sure, when it's cooked it still has very dark green skin attached to all the ligaments but still! If you ever get the opportunity to try iguana, I highly recommend it.

Pepsi: But wait, there's Pepsi in the States! Why is THIS here?!? The one-up Guyana gets in the soda department is that instead of high fructose corn syrup, they use real sugar (FROM REAL SUGARCANE GROWN HERE). So yes I believe I may never enjoy a soda (or "pop" as my brother's Midwestern roomies may vouch for) in the U.S. ever again...

Pilao: white rice and beans cooked together.  Same principle as Cuban congrí but different flavor. Guyanese food favors Indian spices generally.

Roti: the Indian bread of goodness. Perfect for sopping up curry sauce, it's a delectable finger food. It's soft and chewy at the same time, a most excellent accompaniment.

Tart: A sweet pastry that you fill with the jelly of your choice. The one I tried was pineapple.

Water Lily Seeds: I've seen these plenty of times before, but never assumed they were edible. Arranged very prettily in the pod, there are about 10 spaces where the seeds nestle in. You pop the pod off the plant and start shaking the seeds out and eat them straight. They have a hard nutty quality that'll jar your jaw but still taste great.

And there you have it folks! The first leg of the food posts! Stay tuned for more of the blogs!

Love,

The Adventurous A.

Day #2 (October 31) or The Best non-Halloween EVER

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh  no trick or treaters this particular Halloween. Our very first official day in Guyana began with a hearty breakfast courtesy of my hostess for the next couple of days: Kayla Seebaran.

This fiery young need greater heralding from Trinidad had been one of my main contacts in the whole planning process. She, along with a few other like-minded single girls, lived right behind the Skeldon Kingdom Hall. Her other two roommates, Amy and Michaela, were up and around when she and I prepared for the field ministry. Josh and Ribz then met up with us at the house and we made our way to go to the service meeting.

Extremely excited for our first service day....some more than others...

Now, you'll have to know,  many of the friends in this area of Skeldon/Corriverton do not own vehicles. Wherever you need to get to,  there are plenty of taxis and minibusses all vying loudly to get your patronage, or you could just walk. This morning, we had a ride from one of Kayla's elders in the Brighton Congregation, "Uncle" Richard Joseph.

(As a note, in Guyana a term of respect for those your senior is calling them either uncle or aunty. It reflects the same code of familial respect prevalent among the Indians. Also, many people you meet in the ministry refer to anyone they view as religious as "brother" or "sister".)

A short ride later, we arrived at a shaded area in front of one of the houses in the territory. We had a nice size field service meeting, after which we divided and made our way to go witnessing. My partner for the rest of the day was Kayla, while Jonatán stayed with Josh and another brother named Michael Somwaru.

To get a good idea of how preaching is done down here in this part of Guyana, picture the scene: the extremely happy-colored houses are all right by the road. Bright,  lush gardens decorate the front yards, peppered by the occasional fruit tree. There's then what is called the "bottom house", the lower open level of a home set for the sheer purpose of hanging hammocks, cooling down and "gaffing". Gaffing is a cultural staple, a lively conversation between host and guest, shooting the breeze in a most neighborly fashion. You stand outside the front gate, call out loudly "INSIDE?" and await an invite to enter their bottom house. Once inside, you can comfortably begin talking and getting to know your host.

Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I do not regularly raise my voice very loudly. The whole aspect of having to call out "INSIDE" made me feel quite a bit nervous. After a couple of practice rounds with the ever helpful Kayla, I attempted my first door in Guyana. A middle-aged mother named Sonia called us into her bottom house and invited us immediately to talk. She then proceeded to call her daughter and husband (Trisha and Junior, respectively) to join the conversation. I began a study with Sonia and Trisha from the Good News brochure right from the get go.

After that amazing first experience, we continued out in service down the territory. Kayla and I then made our way to some of her return visits. This led us to one of her studies named Lena. She is a former Hindu  who has since been progressively studying for about two or three years. She and her daughters are attending meetings regularly and associating with the congregation. A warm and loveable person, she immediately opened her home to us and fed us lunch. (See next post Nom-Noms of Guyana: Georgetown/Skeldon Edition for more details on our exotic meal).

Such a hospitable host, very typical quality of the Guyanese

To wrap up our service day, we called on two of Kayla's highly intelligent young girl studies, Elizabeth and Ria. Listening to these small children (11 and 9 respectively) made me feel the first pang for my own Bible studies back at home. Few things are as theocratically endearing as hearing a young person declare their faith and learn about Jehovah. It truly is beautiful.

A rousing yet hilarious game of Bananagrams (aka Scrabble on speed) finished this very fulfilling day. If Skeldon is THIS good, imagine Orealla.....

Word

Stay tuned for Day 3!

Love, The Adventurous A.

Day #1 (October 30)

I think that today can be summed up into "why, I never!"

Why, I never had less nervousness on a takeoff.

Why, I never have seen so many bright, delicious-looking Carib/European houses.

Why, I never...But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me do as my mother so lovingly says whenever I relate a tale, "start at the beginning, and when you get to the end, STOP."

Day #1: 10/30/15

Our flight was at 7:40am. JFK is a cool 2 hour drive from our home in Wallkill. This would entail arriving at the airport at 4ish, THEREFORE leaving at 2ish. NOT WORTH SLEEPING! The whole clan stayed up, to quote Mr. Lionel Richie, "ALL NIGHT LONG!" Between the last minute suitcase checking, blanket hauling and transportation finalization, we kept ourselves quite busy!

The drive was relaxing, quietly savoring the final moments with the family. Two hours flew by in no time. My tummy was jumpy in excitement. Jonatan (who will now be referred to as Ribz for the rest of this adventure) was equally as antsy in anticipation.

Off to a happy, sleep-deprived start!

Upon  arrival, after hauling off our luggage and saying the final goodbyes,we were off! If it isn't obvious already, my brother and I are quite the novice travelers, so all the minor details are made to be a big deal. Extremely nice check-in lady? WONDERFUL! Easy breeze through security? AWESOME! Granted, we had to wait a tad to get on board, but this mattered not considering the trip that lay ahead of us.

We were in the air about a good 5-6 hours or so (JFK to Trinidad). In that time period, Ribz and I (mostly Ribz, because I was asleep during parts of that flight) got to witness to our seatmate. Marvis, a resident of Linden, was a very sweet-natured quiet young man. He works and lives in New Jersey, but was heading home to visit family. Apparently, during the flight, he mentioned to my brother that his grandfather was/is a Witness, which sprung a long and productive conversation which included sharing the Why Study the Bible video.

At 12:30 on the dot, we landed in Trinidad. Unfortunately, we never got to explore the Trinny airport, due to the fact that the plane would be the same aircraft taking us to Cheddi Jagan Airport in Guyana. At least we got free in-flight breakfast (spinach frittata, sausage, potatoes, wheat roll, fruit cup and orange juice) to keep us satisfied. The remainder of our travel was very pleasant, only a few jolts in the air and upon landing in Guyana.

WELCOME TO GUYANA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We arrived in one piece, overjoyed to have made it! After the usual formalities (passport stamping and customs and luggage retrieval), we met up with our fantastical host Josh Westfall (for more incredible Guyana adventures, check out his blog at nutso42.blogspot.com ) and our ride, Daniel Adams. Daniel is a brother who also is a taxi driver by trade and was willing to take us the 3 hour drive from Georgetown to Corriverton/Skeldon (where we would be staying a few days until our boat to Orealla). Instead of just merely taking us from point A to point B, however, they showed us a few local sights and made the ride extremely pleasant.

Example of the lovely architecture of Georgetown

Gorgeous seawall at Georgetown

We got our first taste of typical Guyanese food in the form of chicken and potato curry with white rice. Absolutely delicious! The drive consisted of plenty of conversation, singing, laughing, star-gazing, picture-taking and general happiness. By the time we arrived, we were wired and tired. Great end to a most exciting day.

Stay tuned for Day #2!

Love,

The Adventurous A.