The Trinidad Guardian -Online Edition Ver 2.0

A night with the stars

Today is Saturday, and we are in a tiny village called Patarinau, which has a population of 559, with no drugs and no crime. There are also no televisions, phones or stereos and there is no electricity. Maybe there is a link?

The clinic finished and I introduced the American volunteers to that most marvellous of pastimes, a Trini river lime. And remember here, the rivers are crystal clear and very warm having travelled hundreds of miles over the open savannah.

We had the choice of sleeping in the local Presbyterian guest dormitory or camping on the banks of the river under the stars. Yes, you guessed right. My choice was to sleep in the open, which was magic as there is no electricity in this region so there are no lights to compete with the stars, which seem to be so close you feel you could touch them.

I think it is the first time I’ve properly appreciated how vast the Milky Way is and just how many millions of suns like ours there are out there.

By the way, the medical team I was supporting included a surgeon, an ambulance man, an ultrasound technician and a medical intern all from the US. They were a really great bunch, all prepared to rough it and work as many hours as needed to make sure everyone who came to a clinic was seen. One of them brought a good luck travel companion called Grover from Sesame Street who we all quickly adopted as our mascot. From that moment on it was “Grover Sleeps Out” or “Grover Enjoys the River Lime.”

On Sunday, we had another clinic but not before your boy was nearly scalped! Rather than brace the posts of a gate, the Amerindian way is to get the tallest man in the village to stand in the gate way, and then tie the two gate posts together high enough that he can easily pass under. However, a tall Amerindian man is still only 5’ 8” and my six foot frame just lined me up perfectly so the wire would remove the top two inches of my head. I still have the mark!

Our Sunday clinic finished, we bid our hosts farewell and headed off over the Savannah for another three-hour drive to Dadanawa, which was once the world’s largest ranch. It still has more than 20,000 cattle.

Well to everyone’s amazement, including my own, we found Dadanawa on the first attempt. But remember if you follow the wrong trail in these parts it can mean a back track of an hour or more. The wife of the ranch manager, Sandy de Freitas, had done a great job in getting the word out that we were coming, for upon our arrival we were greeted by what seemed to be dozens and dozens of children and their mothers.

Word had quickly spread that we were in the area and we had an ultrasound technician with us. Yes, even in those remote parts people knew of the wonders of ultrasound. Indeed for the first time the men seemed almost anxious for their wives to attend the clinics presumably to find out if they were pregnant and if the baby was healthy or not.

Happily for everyone, the mothers the technicians saw were all in good shape with healthy babies inside them. I mention the men because at one time some of them believed the reason women had to have a hysterectomy was because they had had a Pap smear! Education is so critical.

After another exhausting afternoon clinic, we found a lovely water hole for that much needed evening swim. Don’t forget Guyana is a lot nearer the equator and there is no air conditioning so even spending a few hours in a closed room can drain the energy out of anyone.

My job while all the medical work was going on was to make sure the generator kept running, ensure the various surgical equipment didn’t malfunction, service the vehicle and to manage our precious supplies of ice for the frozen food.

Ice is almost as scarce as gold dust here and the price of a block the size of a Jaliter doubles every 50 miles further you go into the interior. I think I ended up paying almost TT$10 a block at the end. Ask anyone if you can bring them anything when you are leaving one of the bigger towns to visit them and they are sure to ask for as much ice as you can carry. And don’t think they have ice factories down there. All ice is made by individuals with a deep freeze in their house.

Often when you go to collect your ice you may be told they had to move it as someone caught some wild meat, which they needed to freeze.

On one occasion we had to get a man out of bed who was recovering from a hard night in the rum shop. He wasn’t pleased.

Next Week: Treated like royalty in Dadanawa.