By: Ewalt Ainsworth

Renowned Christian psychologist Carl Jung must have been the one that pedaled the idea that alcohol was a low level search for spirituality. Guyanese are manufacturing new and creative ways to drink daily…bash-bash and if is foreign or authored by a foreigner, the more the merrier.  There is always a reason to drink but at the same time so many are experiencing declining health and do not live long enough to get their NIS.  No effort is paid to exercise and good nutrition but everybody has a sad story to tell as if the grass is greener on the other side.   

There is no method to the madness and robust drinking from sun-up to sun-down.  There may be a shortage of eggs, beef and chicken but Gt consumes 4,000 cases of Heineken daily in addition to all the other local BANKS beer  RED STRIPE,  PARBO, CORONA and  CARIB  among others emerge as doorbusters.  At some parties this Christmas any three name brand lagers is retailed for USD 20.00.

It is so much fun to see men and women who cannot afford the market prices and visiting GT for the holidays arriving in-cognito.  Some stooping and padooping and drinking and spitting back in the bottle under the pretext that they under doctor’s orders.  Truth be told COL  too expensive.  The foreign beer is smuggled in and wayside shops do not pay their fair share of taxes.  Guyana really needs a wider tax bracket rather than higher taxes.  But then the people like it so.

A patriotic one who rode a bicycle is not happy as values and virtues are eroded. The patriot moved from his homestead in the Bronx and rode to La Guardia airport where he picked up a Delta flight to Georgia and then headed to a port near Bom Finn and Brazil.

And from then onwards, his disappointment started.  He was detained in Lethem for having a 2-way radio, two digital cameras and a professional video camera.

The long and short of the matter is that they suspected he was some type of CIA operative. But is cheap he cheap; he cutting costs and at the same time getting a chance to see the countryside and the corrupt drug dealers he interfaces with in the Bronx as a prison officer.   He also was asking too many questions about maps and coordinates to get to the Pomeroon and Orealla.  Guyanese do not know enough about their own country.  The government does not encourage inter and intra-district tourism and as a black man, he was supposed to come to Gt on a red-eye flight and get stuck in the unkept city…;laying around with little girls.  The new slogan in GT is  AFTER 12 IS LUNCH.

The new ‘iq-592’ Guyana has wall-to-wall brainics.  Everything is a hustle and once you from foreign, the misconception is that you dotish.  Translated, you have lost the ability to haggle but the visitor with cameras and audio equipment strapped all over his body including a miniature camera inserted a t the back of his head, proceeded with caution.  His first discovery is that the individual is king.  …short hand for puri-king.  Indian men and women elbow you out of the way and you have 14 seconds to state your business.  Tolerance is a bad word these days.  And all the cinemas are shuttered and folks communicate on expensive hand-held sets.  It is only at the water coconut stand do Guyanese of all ethnic strands interface and interact.

The mini buses to Plaisance have one set of people while the buses heading for  Better Hope have a totally different set of people.

The bus to La Grange come and stop at a particular point while those going a bit further to Canal play Rajiv Sankar as if is a code.  At the nearby water coconut stands, this be verge is cheaper than bottled water and folks deliberately put aside their petty grievances to rub shoulders and stand belly-to-belly…a don’t care a damn, we done dead already.

It is only at the water coconut stand too that separate races, classes, sexual preference, religion, gender and age people lend a hand or point out that your fly open  or tell you ‘nek-case and collect your chante.  Guyanese businessmen know you from a distance and smell you from afar.  The language too has changed.  A water coconut is sometimes referred to as a ‘bulb’ and your elbow is ‘hand-knee.’ An old mini-bus or car is referred to as a ‘cork-ball’ and a person who works for the government but of a different ancestry is referred to as a cayman;  caymans exist in both water and on land.  Lumumba is a cayman.  So too is Robeson Benn and Dr Roger Luncheon.  Sometimes these gentle men are referred to as ‘coolie-cayman” but that is if none of their watchdogs around.  Trust and faith has also been deleted from the Guyana lexicon:  TRUST NO MAN AND LET NO MAN TRUST YOU.

Everything is transactional and rude bordering on crude.  He did not hear hello and how-dee-do but was thrilled with the vagaries of horns bunga cows…cows without horns.

Tis the season once more again for Guyanese especially to turn the other cheek and move away from the rum…not even in cake.  The politicians chucking it rude and with each cork-full, each noggin, they wee that as a signal to do more stupidness.  Silence seems to give them consent but once the festive season is over, the APNU, THE AFC and all other civic and civil unions will be more vigilant and demand good and genuine governance.

This is what I believe cause the bible tells me so.  Guyanese of every ethnic strain and (red) stripe will start a dialogue about race, race relations, migration patterns, domestic priorities and the wicked idea of knocking down a school to construct a hotel in the capital.

A former co-worker at NIS sent a text overnight outlining that  in less than 140 words that Assistant General Manager Derek Rodney was fired because he questioned President Donald Ramotar’s request for pension.  Ramotar became 62, October 22nd but does not have that many …22 contributions on file.  Thus he does not qualify.  The NIS folks wanted to work along with him and asked him to submit a resume outlining where and where he worked.  Rodney cleared his desk and the big-stick was pulled out.

Rodney retired recently and was re-hired.  His contract comes to an end in 22 days but the Jagabats simply could not wait; they took the low road.

Rodney did not sweat their decision.  He bought himself a cool-down water coconut as an elixir and returned to his bernabu, found a good book to read and taking care of his family.  Now and then he would take a constitutional walk but is avoiding the bottle at all costs.  ASOMELYKAM.


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