Episode 2-The Missing Black Sage
Running water? In Guyana? Three stories up? Unbelievable Uncle Benji thought. When did this happen? He tried to compose himself wondering what next would surprise him. He decided to take a bath. In the Jacuzzi, it was refreshing. He never dreamt of enjoying such comforts when he lived here.
Then, such thoughts would have been wishful thinking with a good bath being in a nearby trench. Slowly, the feeling of home, real home, was overcoming his six-foot, seventy-five-year old body.

He still found it difficult to accept that Ryan is a young, proud owner of an immodest home equipped with humongous walk-in closets and exquisite state-of-the-art furniture.

He knew this wasn’t possible decades ago. For a moment, he felt the ambience of the Hilton New York where he spent two nights, compliments of his children. The squawks of Ryan’s pet macaw reminded him he was in a tropical country.

As he buttoned his cotton shirt, he didn’t miss the long johns and sweaters. That’s for another climate. He peered through the bedroom window in awe of the many modern homes that surrounded Ryan’s. The landscape was dominated with sprawling edifices reflective of modern architecture. The breathtaking sight was surreal. Things have changed. Time has changed.

He was told that Ryan was independent, affluent, owned a mansion, single and works in something called Information Technology. He always thought Ryan’s mom was exaggerating when she boasted.

He realised she wasn’t. Guyana is now different. At twenty-five, Ryan’s achievements as an ICT Specialist and Consultant are spectacular. Uncle Benji seemed lost when Ryan explained his work during the trip from the airport. How is this possible in Guyana, he kept thinking.

During the trip, Ryan rambled about the Internet and Facebook. Uncle Benji heard these terms. It seems the only thing his relatives in New York talked about. He knew little about it. For him, he remembered having to keep his face in his books or faced his father’s belt. On some occasions, the latter obtained. The only ‘net’ he knew was his father’s “castnet” which was used to garner protein for the family. Then, a mosquito net was a figment of their imagination.

A tear of joy trickled down his freckled face. He was happy; not only for Ryan, but for all, given the visible aspects of modernisation he has seen so far. As he wiped the tear, he recalled one day sitting by the trench savouring a piece of Creole cane. He was ten and had just finished “fulling” water and chopping fire wood. His mother screamed, “Benji, yuh cack up. Yuh gat life in London, eh?” He knew the irony of what “life in London” meant then. He knows it’s incomparable to what obtains now. Life in Guyana is now better; much better. The evidence was overwhelming.

He couldn’t help thinking about the bushes he grew up seeing. Houses have taken their places. Where are the sugarcanes and black sage? He pondered. He recalled his boyhood days when he and friends plucked succulent canes from nearby fields to extract their juice in makeshift apparatus. These regular endeavours were not without risks. The numerous slashes from the razor-edged cane leaves and the pain they evoked after plunging into the murky nearby canal, was a small price to pay for free juice. Dodging the rangers whenever they were in proximity was an added bonus.

The cane field adventures also helped to keep teeth white, sparkling and healthy. His generation knew the benefits endowed on human chewing mechanisms by masticating a piece of sugarcane. The black sage bush provided a much needed substitute for a toothbrush. Uncle Benji reminisced when he often gathered it for his siblings. Those who weren’t skilled in the art of manoeuvring it between teeth crevices and a missing tooth, endured painful scratches to the gum.

He is now thankful for toothbrush. His gum is no longer scratched. Some of his dentures are still intact. He wasn’t certain which was responsible; the sugarcane or toothpaste. He dried his eyes and descended the stairs. Full of confidence, he bellowed for Ryan. “Do you know wah is a “castnet?” “Do you know wah is black sage?” Ryan respectfully and playfully shook his head in the negative. He knew where he was going; down memory lane with his Uncle during dinner.

To be continued.