THE lush green countryside foliage was just a happy blur as it rushed past the windows of the speeding mini-bus.

Normally, I would have enjoyed such breathtaking scenery, but today my mind was preoccupied with wondering what would be the reception I would receive at the hands of residents of Palmyra, in Canje, East Berbice. Well, I was told that this location is inhabited by smiling faces and very pleasant people, but I had actually never visited the village, so my mind was working frantically to decide on one of my many mesmerising methods of approach that I would normally fuse with liquid charm to bring out the best in those with whom I am interacting for the very first time.

With that aside, the drive was fairly okay, except for the moments when the bus driver almost flew around very sharp turns in the road as if it would fly off into the midday skies.

Sooner than I expected, I arrived at Palmyra, and was instantly taken by its alluring simplicity and vivid countryside beauty.

Palmyra is nestled nicely between the equally enthralling villages of Canefield to the east and No. 7 to the west. Palmyra is located some 73 kilometres from the city of Georgetown and can be reached by a minibus ride of one hour and forty-five minutes, provided the spanking new Berbice Bridge is open to traffic upon your arrival. This village is divided in sections, warded off by named streets, and is a mind boggling haven of fresh Atlantic winds, swaying coconut palms, and vast green pastures.

The village, to date, according to residents, has a population of over 2,000, with the larger segment being East Indians, followed by residents of African descent; while here and there sprinklings of mixed race and Chinese can be found.

Interacting with residents
I stopped off on the very edge of the village where the cluster of houses began, and I did so out of curiosity because I noticed what appeared to be very jolly families sheltering from the sweltering sun under a makeshift tent as they traded very large ‘buck crabs’ by the roadside.

Now that I am remembering the whole ordeal, I can actually laugh my head off at their reaction to my approach. Well I was ‘dressed to kill’ folks, and my whirring camera, pen and writing pad must have been a bit unnerving to this gathering. But after a hearty Creole greeting and a double dose of my never ending charm, they were soon relaxing and seeming melting under my endearing smiles.

A bit shy about public speaking the females retreated further beneath their tent with bashful giggles, and prodded the men to take centre stage as I flung questions their way.

Announcing my intentions made them even more receptive, and I instantly knew that I had successfully broken the ice.

First to take centre stage was Oslen Williams, who plies the trade of selling crabs. He explained that residents in the village exist through honest and simple means.

“People in this village does live honestly and exist by simple means. Everybabdy heah does wuk hard fuh dem money, and yuh see me and me family heah does sell crab by dis roadside everyday to put food pon de table and clothes pon a’we skin. When crab season done, we does duh a lil farming or get wuk ah de Rose Hall Suga Estate.

“Is hard wuk fuh catch dem crabs, and many time we does get bite up real bad… But de best time is when dem ah march pon dem moonlight nights… All

yuh got tuh dun then is just walk with a big lamp and just pick dem up from de mud. De lamp light does blind dem like and we jush ah pack dem into we bags.”
Williams explained that they would set up their sales tent outside of the village, closer to the Berbice Bridge, and would often get whopping sales from drivers and other commuters plying that route to and from the city. Even as he was speaking, a large Sterling Products truck pulled up and the driver purchased over $2,000 in crabs, much to the delight of the small group gathered there.

On the roadside, the crabs are priced according to size, and buyers can get up to eight large ones for $1,000. However, when they sell on a wholesale basis to the three ‘crab shops’ in the village, they are paid less for their catch. This is so because these outlets would in turn sell to other businesses in the city with the intention of making a profit.

Young Mahendra Rajballi has been a plantain chip vendor for the past five years, and while he seems contented with his profession, he noted that he hopes someday to find a much better job and maybe open a small grocery store of his own.

“Me know dis ah nah really any kind ah big wuk me ah do heah, but I is a contented bai… Instead me get invalve in wrang things, I prefer fuh sell me plantain chips pon dis road and mek a lil money. Me ain’t gon duh like dem bai in otha village who deh bout de place smoking dope and thiefing people things. I prefer fuh wuk honestly and earn by de sweat ah meh brows,”
Rajballi explained he would normally purchase the already fried and packaged plantain chips from wholesalers in Rosignol and other areas for $50 per pack and would sell back to commuters and villagers for $100, thus making a 50% profit on each pack sold.

Indranie Harris has battled with hard times in the home, and has decided to help out with bringing in an extra dollar by selling bottled water and aerated beverages by the roadside.

“Bai, all ovah Guyana things hard as hell, but we gat fuh cope wid de cast ah living, suh me does try fuh help out by selling dis lil battle wata and sweet

drinks. Me nah really ah get nutting much pon it, but me gat fuh try.”

Employment
Commenting on the issue of employment in the village, shopkeeper Cecil Thomas explained that there was certainly not an existing unemployment issue in the village, since most of the villagers were employed at the nearby Rose Hall Sugar Estate, or are involved in some small business ventures of some sort or the other.

“This is a very simple village where hard working people do not waste time sitting around. I am not saying that every single resident is into meaningful occupation, but those that are not educated are either fishermen, rice farmers, work at the estate, or have opened small shops like myself.

“Some persons are employed at the Guyoil Gas Station here. Of course quite a few are taxi and mini-bus drivers, while others are employed in high positions at the primary schools. We exist quite humbly here, and try our best to live in peace and harmony… Everyone looks out for their brother in Palmyra, and that is how it has always been…”

There are no major nightclubs or discos in this village, and as such, villagers depend on occasional weddings and birthdays from the many households to twitch their hips and roll their bellies in dancing abandon.

Some are content to enjoy a few drinks at the few rum shops that can be found there.

Challenges
Life seems to be quite simple and satisfying in this village, save for a few issues raised by concerned residents.
Addressing what he termed as the issue of police harassment on taxi drivers, Bryan Richardson explained that taxi drivers attempting to ply their trade in the village are being constantly harassed by police who prevent them from operating, thus hampering with their daily earnings.

“The police here are really behaving like hooligans, and they are making our lives miserable. While they are stopping us from operating in the village, they are not making headway for us to have our own taxi park here. Instead, they are forcing us to go till to New Amsterdam to ply our trade from there. This is downright stupid and insensitive, but they are policemen and everyone knows that Guyana is full of only ‘dunce police’, so what can you expect?
“Now, imagine wasting all that gas to operate miles away in New Amsterdam at a taxi park that is already filled with drivers from that area. We will have to

get our own passengers, and that will be hard to do since these drivers would have already had their own customers. Why can’t we operate from within our own village? They keep harassing us…this is our livelihood… How do they expect us to survive?”

Grantley Montooth was very angry as he spoke on the issue of “rusty water” that residents receive from their taps even as they are required to pay sizeable water bills.

“I really don’t know what is going on here. Every month, the GWI never forget to send us hefty water bills, and in some cases the bills are wrong and we are over charged. It’s only when we get really mad and query the bills that in some cases the necessary alterations are carried out. But that’s not all; the

quality of water we receive is horrible most of the time…. When we turn on our taps we have to wait for ages for the rusty water to run out, and this is not conducive to proper health for residents. When the water finally clears up and we fill our containers, we are shocked to find a thick shiny, somewhat rusty ‘cream like substance’ on top of the water in the mornings. From what I have been told, this occurs because there is too much iron content in the water. It looks like GWI wants to kill us all before our appointed time…”

A few residents are calling for the Guyana Power and Light Inc. to open a branch office in their village or close by, to avoid the hassle and expense of having to travel to Georgetown to make applications for electricity installations and other related business.

Youths in the village were quite earnest in their call for a special playfield to be built in the village for recreational purposes. At present, youths are forced to engage in sporting activities in their backyards, or at a small patch of land cleared out near to the sugar cane fields to facilitate cricket and football, but under uncomfortable conditions. This area floods quite quickly with very little rainfall, according to villagers.

However, they are thankful that they have received street lights which help in making the village a safe and stable environment in which to dwell. Some villagers are grateful that the authorities have started works in the areas of drainage and irrigation, since heavy downpours in the area result in heavy flooding.

Commenting on the issue of discipline in the village, Phulmattie Seecharran noted that some youths have become quite disrespectful to their elders, and would often give them a blistering ‘cuss out’ if they attempt to correct them.

Her sentiments were affirmed the minute I entered a variety shop to get myself a pack of chewing gums. I had to wait quite a long time at the counter, while the teenager who was supposed to be inside the facility had his ‘bellyful of gaff’ about some girl he ‘throw down’ at a birthnight celebration in the village a few days earlier.
He did not budge until I became furious with anger and bellowed to have some service.

While his companions muttered obviously crude remarks, the lad rudely entered the shop, grabbed the cash from my hands, and flung the packet of chums on the counter. When I enquired how he would have felt if I had treated him in that manner, he rudely retorted, “Well, yuh could either tek it or lef it!”

That was when I really exploded. I grabbed the packet and flung it at him, hitting him squarely in the centre of his forehead. He yelped in pain and retreated fearfully further into the shop. His companions became suddenly silent and bowed their heads as I swung around in anger, glaring at them, daring them to utter a word. I stormed out of the premises and did not give them a second glance, forgetting that I had left my cash behind.

Ethnic Harmony
This village exudes a ‘racial harmony’ so rich in its intensity that it caused me to marvel at being so privileged to be visiting for the first time.

Taxi drivers of all races were seen chatting pleasantly under large fruit trees, while teenaged girls were catching up nicely on the days’ gaff. At the various road junctions, both Indo and Afro buddies jostled with each other jovially as they competed to see who would net the more sales as they peddled plantain chips, salted nuts and mangoes.

It was a pleasing ethnic fusion as they spilled into the streets, laughing their heads off as they joked with one another. They were indeed a picture of what we would want our beautiful Guyana to be.

It was the same pleasant picture with men liming in the streets and with housewives catching up on the latest news before jumping into buses and heading to different villages.

Since the olden days, Palmyra has always been a village where harmony flows naturally amongst dwellers. As we traversed sandy streets and passed animals grazing lazily in the hot sun, housewives could be seen chatting from their bedroom windows, peals of feminine laughter renting the air as they exploded mirthfully at their very suggestive jokes and girlish gossips.

The Palmyra awakening…
Intent on finding the real awakening of the village, I stayed overnight at a past dance colleague of mine, whom I found now living in the village; and I awoke quite early the following morning. While the villagers were just about stirring, I rose and perched myself in a precarious position on my friend’s verandah to bask in the glory of the ‘Palmyra Rising.’

At dawn, as the last crows of the cocks faded in the distance, husbands and other male breadwinners trickled onto the public road to await transportation to their various worksites. While some engaged in idle chatter, others seemed more concerned with accessing the first minibus or short drop car to worksites situated at various locations outside the village.
Soon the streets became filled with vehicles, and villagers now converged in numbers as they hastily went about their various chores.

By now the golden sun was rising steadily above the horizon, casting a jewelled dazzle on rooftops and the metal frames of steel fences. Soon after, the few small groceries that have sprung up there opened for business as vendors attempted to attract the eyes of early buyers.

With streets now filled with pedestrians, riders and drivers, conversation with a few grown men revealed that while the village can sometimes be described as ‘a hub of bustling activity,’ there is still room for the introduction of some more ‘glitz and glamour’ in many sectors.

Prominent figures (Vijay Ramkumar)
Vijay Ramkumar was born in Eccles East Bank, Demerara and grew up in Palmyra Village, East Canje, Berbice, Guyana.

At the tender age of six, he developed a keen interest in musical instruments and became an excellent harmonium player by the age of eight. Over the next fifteen years, Vijay continued his amazing artistry, becoming proficient on accordion, guitar and keyboard, and also gaining invaluable musical experience with such bands as Indian All Stars, NTB and Melody Makers of Guyana. There were with him such notables as Ishri Singh, Celia Samaroo, Bash Nandalal, Rocky Persaud, Peter Dass, and Devindra Pooran among others.

He then migrated to Canada in 1983, and continued his musical journey with such bands as Traction, Sargam, Variations and Innovations. Vijay is certainly among the most gifted of artistes to hail from Guyana, and has developed remarkable musical arrangement skills with the influence of Karamchand Maharaj and Rohan Changur.

This has been demonstrated in his 21 CD productions to date. His musical future is certainly a bright one, and Vijay Ramkumar’s musical achievements certainly carry the Guyanese Torch forward to the rest of the musical community.

The late Olga Bone
Olga Irene Bone, nee Lowe, was born on Sept 16, 1920 and grew up in the pleasant, breezy little village of Palmyra, in East Canje, Berbice, about 5 km from New Amsterdam. She attributed her imperturbable disposition to the happy home in which she grew up.

Her formal education commenced at the All Saints’ Anglican School in New Amsterdam when she was eight years old, but owing to the informal learning at home, she was not at a disadvantage. At the age of 12, she was sent to the Cumberland Methodist School under the tutelage of Sydney King, now Eusi Kwayana. During the 1930s, that particular rural school enjoyed an enviable reputation for good results, and she would be one of its star students.

Olga Irene Bone, former Executive Director of the Guyana Book Foundation, Co-ordinator of Education Renewal and Assistant Registrar of the University of Guyana, died on July 27, aged 88.
Olga Bone had two passions in life – to provide educational opportunities, and to promote human rights for everyone. Her entire adult life was devoted to children’s education and to protecting women’s rights. Indeed, after the unexpected termination of her employment at the University of Guyana in the midst of controversy in 1980, her interest in both intensified.

It was in her retirement that she became co-founder of Education Renewal, a small non-governmental organisation that worked for the improvement of children’s education. Conscious of the collapse in education standards, she was able to mobilise a number of like-minded volunteer teachers, among whom were Andaiye, Fr Tim Curtis, Karen De Souza, Maylene Duncan, Kathy Ford, Bonita Harris and Vanda Radzik, to conduct free remedial classes in English and Mathematics for ‘at-risk’ secondary school children. Two-hour sessions were held twice weekly on Christian Church premises – Christ Church vicarage, Holy Rosary Parish Hall, St Pius Church, Sacred Heart Presbytery and elsewhere – because public buildings were not available owing to the political situation at the time.

The initiative caught on, and by 1989 Sr Hazel Campayne led a fund-raising campaign with help from the Catholic Agency For Overseas Development and the Scarborough Fathers in Canada. The infusion of funds allowed the volunteers to extend the programme to become a three-year August vacation project located at centres in Enmore, Leonora, Linden and New Amsterdam.

At each centre, small libraries with books donated by the Canadian Organisation for Development through Education began to sprout.
Together with other educators – Agnes Jones and Mavis Pollard – Olga Bone transformed Education Renewal from a casual group of volunteers into a formal non-governmental organisation. Not only did it continue remedial classes into the early 1990s, but it was given the additional responsibility of distributing huge shipments of books from the Canadian Organisation for Development through Education.

It was largely through the clarity of her vision and tenacity of her purpose that Education Renewal not only survived the deficiencies and difficulties of the depression of the 1980s, but became the basis for establishment of the Guyana Book Foundation in the 1990s. Olga Bone served as general manager of the foundation until a permanent officer was appointed, and she remained an active member of the Board of Directors until last year.

She never really retired. When given the opportunity, she continued to teach voluntarily at three community high schools – Dolphin, Houston and St George’s. She also took the time to write three small books – Our Children, Our Schools; Essays on School Management and Revision Manual: Basic Calculation – which were distributed to several primary schools. Commonsensical and functional, some of the ideas contained in these little books dealt not with grand strategic models for restructuring the education system, but with simple topics – teacher recruitment; teacher leadership; school administration; classroom order and disorder in schools. Those issues were problematic twenty years ago, and still are today.

Conclusion
Come taste the fresh fruits of Palmyra, as you inhale the fresh, crisp country breeze.
Prance and dance along the sandy dunes, pausing just for a bit to splash in the numerous cool waterways. Get entwined in the rich camaraderie and jovial banter of the happy people.

Drown yourself in their rich, mirthful peals of laughter, and be smothered with incessant, pleasant hospitality.

Whatever you do, fail not to visit and enjoy the serene ambience of Palmyra, one of the jewels of the Ancient County.

(By Alex Wayne)