THE mere mention of the majestic grandeur Kaieteur Falls in any of our day-to-day conversations would now more than ever connote a different meaning, a changed type of discussion—the death of young Ms Bulkan is bound to come up for discussion. No longer would discussions, memories and stories about Kaieteur Falls be only about the lovely memories, grand sightseeing, and true cosmic communication with the one and only Supreme Being, but memories of death would intermingle in our thoughts even though we may not want to.

I was just looking through some pictures of my visit to the falls two years ago. I did not look at them the same way I did a few weeks ago. I kept remembering the gruesome story that took place recently. It would seem almost too bizarre that a young person would choose to end their life 741 feet atop one of the oldest and most pristine escarpments there is in one of the most in- tact and preserved natural areas in the world. But it did happen. The tourism industry has gone at length on many occasions to reduce the fare to the falls, so as to allow every Guyanese the opportunity of being in the presence of this world wonder. I will never forget that day.

Our flight at Ogle was delayed for nearly three hours. The actual time we spent at the falls area was cut short to just over an hour. And walking to the three vantage view points took a while too. That would leave us with just about ten to fifteen minutes spent at each of the three points actually viewing and savouring the beauty of the Kaieteur Falls . I have shared that experience in these columns a few days after my visit. It started to rainl as we trekked through the jungle to the other vantage areas; we enjoyed every moment of it—getting wet, walking, journeying, climbing, going down, hearing the sounds of the wildlife, the birds, hearing the thunderous sound of the water getting closer and closer—drowning out all voices; the excitement everyone I am sure felt.

I can tell you that the feeling was magnanimous— the moment heavenly; out of this world. I have been in the presence of Niagara twice but that was man-made—our Kaieteur was not! It was made by the very hands of God! Before we knew it, it was time to leave—at no fault of ours. The airline had been late and our time was cut short. But the moment spent—the little time—was all that I could’ve asked for. It was better than four or five hours, I am sure, which were going to have been spent anyways.

And my mind remembers returning to the airstrip. We all trekked behind the other. I can’t help but remember young Ms Bulkan. How such a pleasant and lovely nature- filled day must’ve become a scene out of a horror movie in a few seconds. How lovely it would have been if they had all returned to the plane and journey above the air of the Potaro River back to the coastland. But fate planned their outing to have ended differently.

I always wanted to visit Orinduik Falls but the trip there is only possible with one routed through the Kaieteur Falls. It would be quite eerie if ever I take up that trip there once more.

I sympathize deeply with the relatives of the bereaved. When a Guyanese takes his or her life atop one of our national treasures, our entire nation looses and mourns. We also need to be ever cognizant of that fact that our young people today are crying on top of their voices for attention—which we the adults, parents and members of the community deprive them of. Hence, they are seeking attention in the most gruesome of ways. Today’s young people are no longer on that communicable level with their parents. There’s a gap somewhere.

Water is supposed to bring forth and sustain life, not take it; especially that of the gushing waters of 741 feet magnificence. But one does not just end their natural life just like that, sporadically, on the spot, in the spur of the moment—at this world tourism destination! I was so absorbed in the experience, as were the others. No one or nothing could’ve wrenched us out of that moment to make us do otherwise. Death was certainly not on my mind as I breathed some of the freshest and purest air one would ever breathe; and I am almost as sure it was far from the minds of the others as well. It’s just not normal. But who am I to even try to delve into a possible explanation of what happened. But I had more reasons to live, to be alive; during and after being in the presence of that majestic place. Places like the Kaieteur Falls were made and exist to do just that.
LEON JAMESON SUSERAN