Almost every time you get on an aeroplane to go somewhere, several learning experiences come your way. Some of them are subtle, coming to you gradually, but some land right in your face. Recently, for example, on a trip to Orlando I hit one in the latter category at the very start of the trip at Timehri. I preface this by mentioning that while I hear the frequent gripes from Guyanese about Caribbean Airlines, I have to say that my experiences with them over the years have been usually good, but in this case we started off on the wrong foot. I tend to be a late boarder on aeroplanes, mainly to avoid the jamming, so in this case I came to the departure lounge when most of the other passengers were on board. Passing through the doorway to the tarmac, along with five other passengers, we ran smack into serious rain. Everybody came to a halt. We stood under the overhang, waiting to see if the downpour would lessen.
When it didn’t, I turned back to the doorway and told the staff member there, “It’s raining. We need umbrellas.” He was clinical and succinct. “No umbrellas.” I repeated the point about rain and got the same deadpan, “No umbrellas.” I headed back out to the tarmac, but the rain wasn’t letting up so I went back inside and approached another Caribbean Airlines person. “Look, man. You need to organize some umbrellas; it’s really raining out there.” Again the same flat, “Sorry, sir. No umbrellas.” It’s as if he was telling me the time.
Eventually, with the flight some 20 minutes from departure, I put my head down, along with the five other travellers and took the rain for the 100 yards or so to the aircraft. I was wearing a jacket, but I was nonetheless quite wet by the time I got to the plane. I realized the flight attendants had nothing to do with the ground situation, but I repeated the complaint to them in the hope they might relay it to the necessary authority. If not, I hope this little mention might raise the issue somehow.
En route from Trinidad I got a surprise of a different sort when I opened the Guardian newspaper. With Carnival now only a week or so away, there was a prominent story featuring comments from the Chief of Police that he was asking Government to bring in legislation making it legal for women to carry such items as pepper spray and Mace, when going to fetes, to defend themselves against the kind of uninvited sexual advances that have become common in such settings. And, in the same newspaper, the Social Services Department of the Government came out endorsing the Chief’s suggestion and saying it was long overdue. It tells us a lot about mankind’s public social behaviours – and, by the way, this is not just a Trinidad problem; it is everywhere – that the law enforcement authorities in one country are saying that women should be carrying such items, for their own safety, when they go to those functions. It’s one more barometer of how we have deteriorated; this is now a behaviour that the police are essentially admitting they are unable to eliminate.
On the other hand, I learned during this trip of an interesting approach to a very vexing problem.
It involves a programme in Kenya where they are struggling with the same dangerous driving practices we see every day on the road in Guyana. Now, in that country, when someone is convicted of dangerous or reckless driving, apart from the fine, Government provides them with a sticker that says, “I Was Convicted A Dangerous Driver”, or words to that effect, and they are required to display it prominently on their vehicle. This sounds like an idea we should adopt immediately in Guyana. I can see it taking effect in two ways: one would be the obvious hesitation of travellers to get into a vehicle bearing that sticker.
The other, and probably the more powerful, would be the inevitable tantalise and mockery that would land on the driver of such a vehicle, particularly from his friends. He/she would be a target in the drinking establishments, and may even be forced to move to Australia to avoid the onslaught. On the possibility that Minister Rohee may not read my column, please relay this Kenyan idea to him if you are acquainted with the gentleman. It’s an idea whose time has certainly come.
This trip, too, showed me how differently people behave in similar circumstances. In Orlando I accompanied someone to the airport who was travelling the day before me. As we arrived there she was confronted by what was easily 500-600 people backed up in the security area leading to all the gates. The jam was the result of the Daytona 500 car race taking place on that weekend, and the airport crowd was enormous. I felt sorry for the lady.
Moving in that procession, inching forward, was going to take forever. But there was no alternative; join the line or travel another day. My point here is that everyone in that maelstrom of mankind in Orlando was calmly enduring the ordeal, taking it in stride. I heard no one cussing the government or shouting insults at the airport staff. In Guyana, if we come to a line with more than 10 people, and we have to wait for more than 20 minutes for anything, we’re raising hell.
So to now summarise, as my English teacher Stanley Fernandes at Saints used to say, here’s the gist: on the Orlando trip I learned of a restraint for wild drivers, that other countries have some problems that exceed ours, that ladies going to fete in Trinidad need to carry more than liptstick, and when you’re travelling Caribbean Airlines from Guyana, walk with an umbrella.
