What happens when you take a city girl who thinks she’s pretty clued up- and throw her into a South American village for three weeks?
Yes I, a great believer in the outdoors, beautiful weather and all things tropical, have headed home* to Guyana. Now I’d quite like to clear things up. Yes it is in the Caribbean, no it is not an island, neither is it to be confused with Ghana**. It is in South America. Sorry that I am not a Latino.
The first conversation I had, on the way out of the airport involved being updated on the latest string of robberies in the village and a herd of cows destroying cars with zero f*cks given. I must admit that I was relieved to see civilisation, a great many dogs, and a set of gates surrounding the house that I will be spending the next three weeks in. As well as a police station right next door, even if their radio system kept me up most nights.
I tried to pack as simply as possible, as my intentions were to “blend in as a local”, although I’m unsure how many locals have ombré gray box braids.
I’ve been asked why I am not in school twice for some strange reason, and when I DID visit a school, was greeted with “Miss why is her hair grey? She is not that old!”
Excellent observation if I do say so myself. I am NOT that old. In your face.
I’d decided before travelling that I would endeavour to become a fruitarian. Well. Committed to eating fruit for at least one meal a day. I wanted to live off the land and become a person of serenity and wellbeing. I was talked out of carrying my nutribullet in my suitcase, good thing really as neither my perfume nor my magic keyboard survived the 13 hour trip (welp). My uncle bless him, tried his best, offering all of the delicacies South America has to offer (just…no.) sadly they weren’t to my liking.
Does sugercane count as a fruit? Asking for a friend.
I also made two pledges to myself before travelling, the first being to read. A LOT. In January (2015) I set a target for the year of 52 books (one a week) and surprisingly, I am not doing too badly at all. The second pledge would be to go out on my own. Somewhere. Anywhere. Without dying or ending up in serious difficulty. I would love to be able to travel solo one day and discover places without having to wait for others, so this would be a great time to get some practise in.
There is definitely a sense of calm around, bar the puppies. Here I am gushing over how adorable they are! God how wrong was I. Came home one too many nights to be greeted by three monsters guarding my Grandad’s front door and barking to no end. He doesn’t even have dogs. Territorial bastards.
But I promised myself that I’d write about my experience, and how my opinions change over the three week period, and I will share it with my readers. Until next time!
*I say “home” as if I wasn’t born and raised in London because frankly, everyone likes to pretend they are exotic. My grandparents were born in Guyana.
**Country in Africa. Lovely people. Lovely Jollof rice. But I am not Ghanaian.
Lizzy shares her lifestyle and opinions whilst travelling around the world.
Not only is she a young, career-focused professional, she’s a Starbucks and Zara enthusiast.
She’d like to settle down and have kids, but all in good time.