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It’s not for sale
Twelve years ago, when I was living in Grand Cayman, I bought a minivan in Tampa and shipped it down.
Everywhere you look
A close friend sent me a note recently that I’m passing onto you.
Preparation is lacking
Several weeks ago, I wrote a column entitled ‘Knowing the fine fine‘ on the point that to understand the why and the how and the where of conditions in a country you have to live there a long time in order to begin to see all the factors, many invisible, that are operating on the particular aspect that’s bugging you – garbage in town; speeding minibuses; shoddy workmanship, etc.
There was a time
A young man from West Demerara who takes care of the electrical problems in my home was pointing out to me this past week that I should get rid of the half dozen or so fluorescent fixtures in the place.
Character will out
Useful as they are, dictionaries are inadequate when we are trying to define certain intangibles.
Guyanese ingenuity
One of the striking things about the Guyanese culture is our disposition to improvise, to use our ingenuity, to use our wiles, to try and overcome.
Ethnicity rules
In the early 1990s, during the ‘mo fyah’ disturbances, a prominent Guyanese political figure called me in Toronto with the suggestion that I should write a song to help calm tensions.
Masters at work
Every now and then you run into people who are true masters at what they do.
Keeping the pot bubbling
Out of nowhere, sometimes from a complete stranger, sometimes from someone who knows you intimately, a chance remark will come to you and set you thinking about a subject you had not previously considered.
Passion ruling reason
I approach the columns I write for Stabroek News appreciating that, among other things, they are likely to trigger discussion.
From Kaieteur to Niagara – on a bicycle
Approximately 15 years ago yesterday, a young man from Berbice arrived at Niagara Falls, Ontario.
Not so godforsaken after all
Within a month or so of returning home to live, I found myself in a well-known lawyer’s office in town to have a document notarized.
We’re spoiled rotten
I’m driving with this Canadian lady heading for “cottage country” in Northern Ontario.
Forgetting the forerunners
This started with a comment from my friend Henry Muttoo, the theatre whiz, following a piece of poetry by Louise Bennett I had sent him.
Pictures without sound
I hate to travel.