Rupununi Rangers

Region Nine had been completely closed to Volunteers for several years due to security concerns. Peace Corps only recently reopened it, sending six intrepid Volunteers into the area in April of 2016. Three left within the first three months. Then Peace Corps sent six more in from my own cohort. One never made it back after the site visit. With the latest batch of Volunteers, they've only sent one out to us. So now there are nine in Region Nine (very poetic). It turns out I've been terrible about taking pictures of them, so I had to send a call out so you could see them the way I do.

Gabrielle (GUY 28): 

Photo by Gabrielle

Photo by Gabrielle

She's the only other female PCV in the region, and my go-to for everything. She lives near the central hub where we all escape to at least once a month, and she knows just about everything about everything and everyone. I've been here a year, and compared to her, I still feel like a brand-new and totally inept trainee. If you could bottle up her levels of enthusiasm, you'd be a millionaire. I don't know how she does it; I get exhausted just listening to all of the projects she's running. She often tells me she's barely hanging on, and that she struggles, but she does it like a ballerina: sure, there's tons of grueling hard work that goes into it, you're sure, but she makes everything look so smooth and effortless. Also along that same metaphor, she manages things I'm pretty sure it's physically impossible for us normal humans to do.

Steven (GUY 28): 

Photo by Gabrielle

Steven and Connor
Photo by Gabrielle

Gabrielle and Steven
Photo by Gabrielle

"Every person is the hero of their own story." Not true. The Region Nine Volunteers have all come to the startling realization that Steven is, in fact, the hero of this story, and we're all just expendable supporting characters. Since he's about as mean as a toasted marshmallow, we're all kind of okay with it. Since he's the nearest PCV to me, I see him more often than anyone else.

Connor (GUY 28):

Photo by Gabrielle

Photo by Gabrielle

Photo by Chris

Connor and Gabrielle
Photo by Gabrielle

Connor is not far from me either. I spend more time with the GUY 28 volunteers than I do my own cohort, so it will be really hard for me when they finish their service. Connor actually lives in the same village my counterpart is from, so they've become good friends. He's as laid-back as I am neurotic, and can pick up the Guyanese way of talking like he was born here. He also covered the workshop I'd planned when I was pulled out of my site.

Thomas (GUY 29):

Photo submitted by Thomas

Photo by Gabrielle

The boy who started out so quiet in training is now one of the most riotously funny people I've ever met. Every time he comes out of his site, he has crazy wild stories. Things just sort of happen to him. If anyone should write a book about the Peace Corps in Guyana, it's him.

Lance (GUY 29):

Photo submitted by Lance

He's the other Masters International student, actually at the same University I am. He's a droll character, and with his deep voice and southern accent, I just want him to narrate my whole life. He came to visit my site a few times, and played a bunch of games with the kids and I, and now they adore him and always ask when he's coming back.

Jon (GUY 29):

Lance and Jon
Photo by Gabrielle

Picture "California" but not "surfer" and you've pretty much got it. Compared to me, he sometimes seems relaxed to the point of catatonic. He's absurdly tall when standing near me or any of the locals, which makes him stand out even more than the rest of us do. He and Dylan are way down in the South Rupununi, with no cell service or internet, so we rarely hear from them more than once a month.

Dylan (GUY 29):

Chris on the left, Dylan on the right
Photo by Chris

Dylan came into Guyana with no electronics. That was the first hint that Dylan was going into this with a totally different mindset than the rest of us. We had all been told we were going way out into the middle of nowhere with limited electricity and all that, but even so, no electronics? He said he was determined to rid himself of the dependence on gadgets, so the rest of us all shrugged and figured "hey, more power to you." He's since changed his mind, but the attempt was notable.

Chris (GUY 30):

Photo by... someone else. I'm not sure who. (Chris submitted it for this post).

Chris moved into Region Nine the same day we finally had our "town hall meeting" with our new Country Director to address some of the glaring failures in the region. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him: this new, bright-eyed and hopeful PCV, suddenly dropped in among a bunch of red-dirt covered, bedraggled and sleep deprived veteran PCVs telling horror stories of the lack of medical care and food shortages. It felt like a message of "Welcome to Region Nine! You've been left here to die." Probably not the most uplifting first impression. When I first spoke to him, back in Georgetown before he left, I asked him jokingly "so what did you do to get exiled to Region Nine?"
"What do you mean?"
"That's where they send all the bad kids."
At this point, one of the staff who sitting near us cut in with "Hey! That's not true! Steven's down there, and we LIKE him." Chris and I stared for a moment until she realized what she'd just basically admitted, and then both of us cracked up, so I knew he had the right sense of humor at least to get along with the rest of us. (Side note: I've since been told by staff that I shouldn't tell that story anymore.)


For those of you wondering what happened to the the rest of my GUY 29 cohort, we're now down to six. Ellen left before swearing in, by her own choice, and Matt was medically evacuated. Now Sam and Dan have both been medically evacuated as well, and will not be returning. Kirsten had to be removed from her site in Region One due to security, and has been moved to a new site in Region Three, which she loves.

Safety

Steven ended up joining me in Georgetown after he was mugged and nearly stabbed in Lethem. The police were of no help, and Peace Corps' initial response was "just go home." Luckily Steven is safe, and has replaced his phone, but this just one of a recent rash of security issues causing PCVs to be pulled from site. There are risks wherever you live, and a mugging could happen anywhere, but I think it's psychologically harder when you're so isolated as a foreigner.

Also, who could stab this guy? That's like stabbing a kitten!

Pictured: two un-stab-able things

The princess and the peas

Now in addition to meeting a prince in Region Nine, I've also met a princess. She's the runner-up for Miss Guyana, and she was introduced to me as the Region Nine Princess when we met. I don't know much about pageants or "modeling" as it's called here, but it's a big thing throughout Guyana. Secondary school girls go through this at almost every school function, which as an American, can be very uncomfortable.
Anyways, Manisha had started, as her community initiative, a garden project just outside of Lethem. She wanted to address food security issues in the region, as well as getting kids involved and teaching them about healthy living. Steven had met her and volunteered to come out and help, and she invited all of the other Peace Corps Volunteers in the area to tag along too, so Steven recruited the rest of us. Steven, Connor (both Education volunteers), Chris (a Health volunteer) and I all showed up, and had a fun day teaching about spacing plants, compost, fertilizer, and dirt.

Photo by Manisha

Photo by Chris

Also by Chris (he's much funnier than I am)

My "Counterpart"

When a Peace Corps Volunteer is placed in an area, they're given a local host family, a "supervisor" and a "Counterpart." The host family is your moral support, and teaches you how to live like everyone around you. The supervisor is supposed to keep you on track with your work, and help you make important contacts (In ten months, I've had a total of two conversations with my supervisor. I don't even know if he remembers I exist). The Counterpart does... everything else. They are usually someone connected to your work (ideally) and are often one of the people who initially were involved in the request for a volunteer. In reality, they often become your first point of contact, your first friend, and your regional encyclopedia. How do I get the bus? Ask your CP. Where would I find this thing? Ask your CP. Who should I go to to get this done? Ask your CP.

You meet your Counterpart at a conference right before your site visit, about a month before you move there. It's the business-suit-attired version of an awkward playdate. I had been warned that "he" was "young" but that was all I was told beforehand. Turns out the Counterparts were told even less about the volunteers they were getting.

Peace Corps staff had wanted to do some horrible gameshow style "reveal" to match the Volunteers and their Counterparts, like they had with our training site host families, but since there were only ten of us, and ten CPs, and they had us all eat dinner at the same time, we ended up figuring each other out beforehand, ruining the "surprise." All we had to ask is where they were from, since we had already been told our new sites.

I was still in for a surprise though. My counterpart was only 17. I was going to have to depend almost entirely on a person who, by Peace Corps own rules, I wasn't even allowed to be in a room alone with. For someone already nervous about what they've gotten themselves into, this was not exactly comforting. Even less confidence inspiring, the students we were going to be working with were mostly aged 18-22. I usually don't even like asking teenagers for the time, let alone actually work with them.

A hike we went on with some students, a few days after the conference

If anyone was more apprehensive than I, it was probably my own Counterpart. During the conference, they'd been lectured without end about the expectations and rules surrounding their new roles with their Volunteers. Unfortunately, the way it was done sounded very much like a nervous helicopter-mom leaving a fragile and sickly baby with a new babysitter. At one point even I was nearly convinced that if I so much as stubbed my toe leaving my house, I'd probably die. Now this seventeen-year-old was told he'd have to take a twenty-nine-year-old back to Region Nine and keep her from wandering haplessly into death for two years. It was not a promising beginning for either of us.

The dim view continued when I got to site. The principal of the Institute spotted me at one of the assemblies, and introduced me with "We have our new Peace Corps Volunteer. We thought we were getting a man, but... we got her instead." That was the extent of my introduction.

Luckily, things have since improved. Junio (now 18) is a good friend, a dedicated teacher, a hard worker, and one of the nicest and most responsible people I have ever met. He's probably better at being a "real adult" than I am, so it's hard to make teenager jokes. I really can't say enough good things about him. After speaking to other volunteers, I realize how lucky I've been: I love my site, my host family is kind, and my Counterpart ticks all the boxes.

Here he is giving game instructions to some students

Here's a good story for you, Mom: One day I was talking about my family, and he said "it sounds like you and your parents don't agree very often." I asked "well don't you ever have a different opinion than your aunt (who raised him)?" and his response was "No, I don't think so." I can't even imagine an eighteen-year-old boy never disagreeing with his parents.

I honestly can't tell if he was posing for this

Meet the family

Most Peace Corps Volunteers in Guyana live with a host family during two or three months of training, and then with another host family for the first six months of service at their permanent site. Peace Corps has pretty strict rules about what sort of accommodations have to be in place to house a volunteer, so sometimes it can be very difficult to find places, even just for six months, let alone for those volunteers who end up living with their families for the whole two years. In my case, there was no family in the area who met all of the criteria, so a compromise was made. I moved right in to my own little cabin, but ate all of my meals for the six months with my host family just down the road.
Despite the fact that I still interact with them nearly every day, I've been terribly remiss in introducing them to you.
So here you are:

I'm going by age, so first up we have my host dad Zico. Zico is an outstanding defender for the Paiwomak Warriors football team, and a shockingly adept iguana catcher.

My host mom is Veronica, and she's actually only a year older than I am, so that's pretty weird for me. I don't think either she or Zico view me as a real adult, because I am not married, have no kids, and have no idea how to do certain things that are just basic knowledge to them (get used to this feeling if you ever move to a country drastically different than your own). She's always looking out for me, though, which is very much appreciated.



Ryiela is their oldest. She goes to the secondary school nearby, and when I moved into my house, she was the first one to work up the nerve to speak to me. Now she teases me like a little sibling: just straight up sass.



Kenecia is actually Zico and Veronica's niece, but she lives with them during the school year so that she can attend the secondary school as well. She's very quiet, but she's the first one to volunteer to help with any task, and if you ask her a direct question, she's the most likely to give you a straight answer. It's hard to believe she's a teenager, because she's the most well-behaved kid I've ever met.



Zena is the one visibly growing up. Since I got here, she's grown so much taller! I feel like every time I turn around, she's gone up another inch. She'll be taller than I am before I leave. She loves football, and playing cards.

Esther has been the baby of the family her whole life, but not anymore! She's shy around strangers, but like a bouncing puppy running circles around you once you get to know her. She sometimes tires on our longer walks, so she likes riding her bike alongside us, until Zena inevitably takes it.



Zendaya was born in February. Her parents were so sure they were having a boy, that when she arrived, they didn't even have a name picked out yet. I got to see her when she was just a few days old, and before I leave, I will probably get to see her first steps and hear her first words. She's always in the arms of one or the other of her sisters, and they dote on her.



So there you have it. My "family" out in Region Nine.

The special ones

I've told the Year One kids that they were special, because they are the only class I get to see start to finish. I got to see this year's graduates just for the second half, and the next class for their first half, but I'll be here for these kids the whole time. That makes them special. It also means I will lean on them harder than any other group. So far, they've met the challenge I threw down cheerfully.
There are fewer of them now than when they started, and we'll lose a few more before they come back next month for their second year, but the ones who are left are the best sort: ready to play, hard working, and willing to make an attempt at whatever is asked of them. They are also sassy, which I love, but they never cross the line from fun to disrespectful. This is why I love playing games in class with them; I know it won't get out of hand.
These are the kids who are the best about coming to get me whenever something interesting comes along. Three of them came to get me and then ran through the savanna to chase down that anteater. They point out frogs and lizards, and are the first to volunteer for hikes and birdwatches.
Hopefully this next year, now that I know them so much better, I'll have lots of individual stories to tell so that you can get to know them too. In the meantime, just look at these kids! If they don't crack you up, it's only because you're a soulless monster.