I have a plan

THERE is an adage that says that you can take an individual out of an environment, but you cannot take the environment out of an individual. In my situation, I am referring to No. 72 Village, Corentyne, Berbice where I grew up. Recently, I immersed myself in this village, not like a visitor, but like someone who wants to see some changes without interfering with long-held admired traditions. Further, what I am going to share here might very well be applicable to other villages and regions in Guyana.

I notice that there is an urgency to deal with two of many issues: “Stray” animals and the development of a sort of “soup kitchen”. I will address both issues without any order of importance.
To contextualise, the villages in the Corentyne region were designed and developed in a way where people and animals share the same public space, which is unlike urban areas in Guyana.  It is normal to see people raise cows, goats, sheep, pigs, chickens for consumption, and dogs, birds, cats, and horses as pets, and for recreational purposes, in their backyard, or close to their homes.

From all indications, this pattern of living has been going on since colonial times, with its own organised rhythm, as, on some days, some animals are well-pastured, while on other days, they can be seen all over the place, including on the roadways, creating mayhem.  One individual stated, “Hey man, the donkeys on the roads are ‘traffic police’ because they ‘control’ the flow of traffic.” The villagers have adapted well to these dynamics, so much so that one can safely say, “Hey, this is rural life.”

The problem, however, is that some animals, particularly dogs and cats, are abandoned and subsequently morphed into an eyesore. I noticed that there were at least 25 ‘stray or abandoned’ dogs in No. 72 Village. I must admit that their condition is not easy on the eyes: Deformed legs, dislocated hips, discoloured skin, and so on, roaming the villages, feeding on this and that. One villager said to me, “People here do not treat animals well,” and pointed to a few dogs and informed me that “many of these dogs have not eaten for days”. He then threw a few biscuits to them. His fellow villagers call him “the dog man” in a sarcastic way.

Such a remark reveals the crux of the matter. For the most part, Guyanese do not embrace animals, whether as pets or not, in ways that individuals in developed countries do. Anyone familiar with North America will know that people there treat pets like humans, providing similar care and affection as they would treat other humans. One individual from a developing country living in the US once said to me that people in that country humanise pets. In my village, and especially during the pandemic restrictions, walking the dog outside the yard as a companion, to deal with loneliness, is a rarity. Further, Guyanese generally treat pets differently from other countries. Pet dogs, for example, are used for guarding and hunting, and they are not fed and sheltered in the home. What, then, accounts for the different approaches to pet caring in Guyana and elsewhere? Is it that when the necessities of life are met, then individuals would embark on other avenues of life, such as caring for animals within a stone’s throw of their environment? I am suggesting that an animal shelter be built at least every 30 miles in Berbice and in other counties to tackle the root problems, spaying and neutering, for instance, of having many stray dogs. I understand Essequibo has an animal shelter.

There are also some poor and unhealthy individuals, and how and why they have reached that stage in life would cascade us into various explanations that may or not do us or them any justice. The point should be made that they are visible, and we need to do something about it. I remember when I was growing up in the 1960s and 1970s, seeing individuals begging from door to door, which, interestingly, was not frowned upon as it is today, but a tradition brought from India. Among the ‘beggars’ were religious men who preferred to live a holy life, rather than spend their time to facilitate the capitalist money-making routine of life. That tradition is long gone, and so, those who decide to beg for their daily bread find it difficult to succeed. Therefore, I suggest developing a sort of soup kitchen to provide lunches for these persons two times per week, until the right mechanisms are in place to serve lunches on more days of the week. I am willing to share the downstairs of my mother’s house in the village to develop a soup kitchen. The time has arrived in my life, which makes me believe that these two issues should be tackled. To be continued. (lomarsh.roopnarine@jsums.edu).

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