So It Go
From the time I launched Tradewinds in Trinidad in 1967, I have been to Guyana almost every year, sometimes twice a year .
In the building of reputations, be it in tourism attractions, or in a doctor’s practice, even for the best laundry soap, nothing is as immediately effective as the power of word-of-mouth .
Frankly speaking, as my columnist friend Alan Fenty would say, I have mixed feelings about the English .
I’m not big on “long time” – I remember it as a lot of hard time – but there are instances where I suddenly regret some aspect of life from that era that’s no longer around .
Two things you should know about me: one is that I’m Guyanese from head to toe .
Given the aggravations of daily life in Guyana, citizens are in need of some occasional light-heartedness to restore the human spirit, and this week, with the politics at full boil, one came for me via an email to his friends from Alex Neptune, who lives in New York with long roots reaching back here .
There can no longer be any serious debate about it: wherever we aim our gaze, the evidence is clearly before us now that Guyana must find a way to get off this fractured political path that has bedevilled us since independence .
Guyana is awash, virtually daily, with an array of ‘bad news’ stories .
You can identify change in the world by reading lengthy polemics, or by examining complex data, or by attending scientific forums .
Stabroek News this week carried a photograph by Arian Browne of a solitary minibus driving on the Seawall Road in broad daylight .
With much of Guyana undeveloped, and not even fully explored, the conditions of daily living in some of the country, particularly the interior, have produced some very tough individuals, with both the physical and mental strength to overcome adversity .
New Year resolutions and advice are upon us, and following the barometer of “goat ain’t bite me,” I offer a hand for coping with life in any year .
As the year winds down to find us surrounded by daily news of mankind apparently going downhill, both at home and abroad, one can easily begin to harbour feelings of despair .
Whales are not at home in shallow water .
It’s not nature’s topography; the complex pattern of waterways draining our coastland wasn’t always there .
Followers of this column will know I’m always preaching that we should, whenever possible, present both sides of the coin when we’re discussing issues in the homeland; that as we take time to rightfully criticize the shortcomings, we should also be pointing to the good news happenings as they occur .
Six years ago, within weeks of my return to live in Guyana, I was in conversation with a very well-known Guyanese – someone I admired but had never met – and he suddenly said to me, “Dave, what are you doing coming back to live in this godforsaken country?” I pointed out to him that he was also still here, and we both laughed over the remark .
It pops up constantly .
Hardly a week goes by without some reference in the media to the depressing statistics of the number of Guyanese who continue to migrate .
There will be disputations about this one, but I will stand my ground: overall, in a region of powerhouses, with many different island cultures competing, the Jamaican version today is probably the most dynamic of them all .