Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Worlds Apart, but Not Really ----Guyana part 3

When we first arrived in Corriverton, the village where Afeefa and her family live, I felt like I was in a daze.  First of all, Kristin and I had been awake for about 25 hours, so we were tired, and besides that, Guyana is so completely unique from anything we've ever experienced, that everything felt surreal.  I was having trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that our time of caring for Afeefa was over-----where did the months go so quickly?  I thought about the surgeries, the eye patches, eye drops, arm restraints, long nights up with Afeefa, and somehow it all seemed like a lifetime away.  Even giving her breakfast and lunch in our high chair in our kitchen here before we left on Wednesday seemed like something from another era.  We just felt so far removed from everything.


There were a lot of things that were so different.  I think the first, most obvious, was the temperature.  We arrived from a cold, Fall Michigan day to 90ºF, 80% humidity and sunshine.  This was a nice change, for sure!

The houses were all so different, too.  We noticed right away that they all were built up high on supports;  we learned that this allows for better air flow in the house...  as does the fact of walls not being built all the way up to the ceiling.  This of course, allows for the easy mobility of gekkos from one room to the next, for air movement in the house, and for all sounds to be heard throughout the house.  Every night Kristin and I rehashed our day, often with laughter (we were also a little slap happy since we were so tired!), and then did our Bible reading and prayer together.  Afeefa's aunt mentioned that she enjoyed hearing us each night.  We tend to want to be so private in our culture, but you know, it isn't all bad to have that taken away once in a while.  It forces you to think before you speak, something we all need to work at.  Another notable difference about the houses is that the roofs are made of sheet metal.  When it rained in Guyana (and it did a fair amount, as we were there at the start of their rainy season), it was so loud!  It reminded me of when I was a young girl out in our chicken coop when it would rain on the metal roof;  I really like the sound, and found it to be a soothing part of our trip.  My father-in-law has always said how much he loves to sleep when the rain is hitting the roof;  well, the roofs in Guyana are sure good for that! 

Another aspect of Guyana that made us feel so far removed from all that was familiar was the language.  Now, many of you know that the official language of Guyana is English.  In fact, it is the only English-speaking country in all of South America.  That was one of the things that gave us comfort about going to Guyana---"at least we'll know the language," we told ourselves.  Well, we were perplexed when we couldn't understand anything people were saying!  Afeefa's parents and relatives did a great job of speaking directly to us so that we could understand them, but as far as hearing people speak with each other, it was truly a foreign language.  I would have done better in any one of the Spanish-speaking South American countries!  Anyway, as it turns out, English is indeed the official language, but everyone speaks creolese.  Being somewhat of a linguist, I started to pick up on some of the inflections, such as adding an "uh" sound to the end of words when a response from someone was expected.  One night, Kristin had taken Afeefa's Aunt Shaleeza's seat when she left the room.  Upon her return, Kristin politely asked her, "Would you like your seat back?"  She had to repeat herself many times because Shaleeza was clearly not understanding her.  Then, when Kristin restated it, "Would you like your seat backuh?"  She totally understood.  Language is a funny thing.  It dawned on me, then, that Afeefa was probably dealing with the new language, too.  She had become very accustomed to our American English, and I'm sure the change in language was significant for her as it was for us.

When we were out and about in Guyana, Kristin and I were truly the minority.  We didn't see another fair-skinned, blonde-haired person the whole time we were there. But, strangely, we didn't feel uncomfortable at all.  Afeefa's family was truly warm and hospitable and they made us feel very at ease.  We felt so blessed to be welcomed into their home and to share in their lives directly.  It occurred to me while we were there that our mutual love for Afeefa really gave us a bond even before we met Afeefa's family, so it seemed natural and good to be with them.  Even though we were worlds apart with regard to our culture, surroundings, weather,  faith, food, homes, language, etc...there was a sense of genuine mutual concern and friendship toward one another.  We sensed God's presence and peace the whole time we were there, and we feel like we have truly been blessed by the relationships we were given in Afeefa's family. 

A few pictures for you to enjoy:
Afeefa's house in Corriverton.  Afeefa and her parents live in the bottom, and her Grandma, and uncles and aunts live upstairs.  We stayed upstairs, too.

This is a view looking out of our house.  You can see the black water tank that supplies rain water to all of the houses.  You can also see the sheet metal roofs.

Here I am with Afsana, Afeefa's mom, and Afeefa, of course.  We enjoyed each others' company.

Kristin, me and Afsana by the Corrantine River.  The country of Suriname is on the other side of the river.

Afsana, Afeefa's paternal grandma, who we all called "Mami," and me.  Here, we're enjoying some fresh, cold coconut water.