Episode 13: From ‘surwa’ and rice to imported dog food
AS THE NEXT morning was about to dawn, Uncle Benji stirred. He is an early riser. He has never gotten up after the sun would have already risen. This is his custom. It has been so since he knew himself. Family chores as a boy were responsible for this habit of his. Tending to the family’s cows and kitchen-garden made him immune to being a late sleeper. He remembered that back in his days, rising early from bed was the routine. Adults and children were both up as the cock crowed. Given that many homes would have had a rooster, the sounds of the many crowing cocks were difficult to drown out, especially since house walls were porous, and the roosters sometimes rested on the back step or in the ‘bottom-house’.
The mooing of the cows and the braying of nearby donkeys usually accompanied the sounds of the roosters. With time, residents became accustomed to the din, and even looked forward to being entertained by such ‘village orchestras’. When any one ‘component’ was heard missing, it was either that the cow or donkey had been sold or unfortunately had passed away, or the rooster was the previous night’s dinner for someone in the neighbourhood. In some way, this method determined who ate ‘yard-fowl’, who lost an animal, or who were forced to trade to meet grave financial needs. He remembered seeing Uncle Baboo and Uncle Jarvis crying at the death and sale of a prized heifer respectively.
Then, the animals and poultry were considered treasures. Those who owned such treasures were considered fortunate. Somehow, those childhood moments were fresh in Uncle Benji’s memory. As he looked out at the still dark but early morning, he felt as if he was hearing the cows and the roosters and the donkeys, even though they were not around. Then, the stench of cow dung and chicken litter permeated the atmosphere around the neighbourhood. Often, this stench served as a ‘guide’ to one’s home, especially for Uncle Max when he was ‘under the influence’. Uncle Benji realized, from what he has seen, that those days were long gone.
The morning silence was only broken by the intermittent barking of the dogs, and the sound of a few passing cars. Even the dogs have changed. From what he has seen since his return, local dogs, like those in the United States, seem to be much cared for now. He noticed a few big bags of imported dog food downstairs. Ryan has three big black dogs. Uncle Benji wasn’t certain of their breed. He thinks two are Rottweilers, and one looks like a German Shepherd. He is happy, for at least Ryan shows some trait as that of his grandparents: He likes animals. He has the dogs and a macaw. Uncle Benji remembered that almost every home in his time had a dog; ‘rice-eaters’, as they were known back then. Their meal was whatever was left over, if anything at all.
Back then, feeding the dog was easy: Just mix left-over rice and ‘surwa (gravy from curry or stew)’ and throw it on the ground. Given that most people didn’t have concrete yards, the ‘dog-bowl’ was any part of the ‘bottom-house’. And if the ‘rice- eater’ didn’t eat all the food, which was rare, then it had to be picked up with the shovel and thrown away the next morning. Our ‘rice-eaters’, named ‘Brownie’, ‘Blackie’ and ‘Lame-foot’, were only fed at nights. They generally slept all day, and would only bark if they saw a stranger entering the yard. Sometimes ‘Rexie’, Uncle Max’s ‘rice-eater’, would mistake him for a stranger when he staggered home. Rexie’s bark signalled Uncle Max’s arrival and the state he was in.
Now, from what Uncle Benji can deduce, like in the United States, dogs are more than an integral part of the household. They actually live inside the house, are considered ‘family members’, eat very expensive imported food, and have to be groomed and walked regularly. For Uncle Benji, these are ‘house-dogs’ and not like the ‘yard-dogs’ in his time. ‘House-dogs’ are given a bath often, and must be taken to their ‘doctor’ for regular check-ups. Some owners even ensure that the ‘house-dogs’ food is cholesterol-free! And to crown it all, they also have their own beds! Uncle Benji remembered that he and his siblings dared not have ‘Lame-foot’ in the house for one second. His mom would bawl: ‘Chase the damn dog out!’ That was a common phrase then. No one worried what the ‘rice-eaters’ ate. No one worried whether they were given a bath or not.
As a matter of fact, when ‘Brownie’ and the others passed by, their scent evoked one reaction: ‘Gwan!’ It was ‘gwan!’, ‘gwan!’ as the ‘rice-eaters’ passed by family members. The more the members, the more the ‘gwans’. Often, there were many ‘gwans’. Cats were no different. Then, they were chased by all, given their natural propensity for stealing. Uncle Benji remembered hearing almost every day, neighbours shouting: ‘ah gon kill yuh cat!’ Very often, this phrase wasn’t used by men, but by the females, who were basically subjected to ‘cat abuse’. The cats hunted for their specialty: ‘Fry-fish’. Raw fish, other meats and cow’s milk that was scalded and left in the pot to cool were attractive delicacies. When caught in the act, the milk was spilled, and the ‘fry-fish’ bowl and raw meat thrown on the ground. But a quick wipe or wash made the meats palatable again.
Uncle Benji remembered that from the time he saw ‘Susie’, their cat, he would pelt her, even if she wasn’t in the act of stealing. This was so because she stole so many times and was never caught. Pelting ‘Susie’ on sight with whatever was at hand served to compensate for the many times her acts of thievery went unpunished. With time, ‘Susie’ just ran on seeing him. Now, times have changed; cats are even more cared for than the ‘house dogs’ in some cases. Uncle Benji knows some people who don’t have a partner, but who have a dog or cat or both. He now realized that this is not confined to the United States, and that Guyana now has plenty ‘house dogs’ and ‘house cats’.
For him, this is yet another indicator of the vast changes Guyana has undergone over the years. The fact that people can treat their dogs and cats like family members speak volumes for their capacity to so indulge. This can only be possible by having adequate financing to cater for routine expenses and animals. This was a dream for the masses during his time. Then, people didn’t have enough for themselves, much less for animals. The donkeys and cows ate grass. The yard fowls sometimes too. The left-over rice, when possible, was split between the ‘rice-eaters’ and the ‘yard-fowls’. Now, the dogs and cats have imported food. Uncle Benji wondered if the ‘yard-fowls’ are still around. He also wondered if people are still mixing ‘surwa’ with left-over rice to feed ‘rice-eaters’. Given what he has seen, he also wondered if the ‘rice-eaters’ survived.
The sound of a barking dog brought him back to the present. By now, the sun was slowly rising. Except for a few clouds, the sky was fairly clear. The sight of the sunrise was breathtaking. He realized how something as simple as a sunrise meant so much. His poor old eyes hadn’t beheld such a sight in decades. Ryan’s dogs were playing. Their playful sounds brought a smile to his face. He realized how the rising sun, some playing dogs, the sound of passing cars, the absence of braying donkeys and the cock-a-doodle-dos from roosters underlined the monumental changes his beloved country has undergone. No longer does the survival of the masses depend on the sale of a cow or a donkey or even the yard-fowls. No longer are the masses accustomed to the scent of cow dung and fowl litter. The well-kept massive dogs clearly told him that dis time is nah lang time! He proceeded to awaken his nephew.
To be continued…