As it is wherever one lives, a part of life in Guyana is the frequent complaints on various matters that confront us, day to day. Previously seen only in our newspapers, this litany of grumbling, if I can term it that, has now been expanded to the various online platforms, such as Facebook, and, to some extent, even in talk radio, for those of us who follow that form. Along with the others, I plead guilty to occasionally adding my own grouse to the mix, but today I pause to mention that almost every time I do it, I can expect to get a note from this friend or that chiding me for not seeing the whole picture. In that group I have to single out well known writer Ian McDonald as well as musician/businessman George Jardim, who are always urging me to properly consider the whole picture, not just the cracks – an admonition I take to heart from those two persons for whom I have much respect. Mr. Jardim, in particular, often takes the more subtle approach in that he will agree with some complaint I’m making, but then he almost always adds a follow up, introduced by the words “but then”, in which he points to some other area in the culture where we have much to be grateful for.
An example of that is an instance going back now several weeks where George wrote at length on his observations or reactions to life along the Essequibo River as something he treasures for its joy of life ingredient. Lately, as the various public grousings seem to be more plentiful than ever, I confess that I often find myself adding my own “But then” and considering some positive aspect of life here.
One is not likely, for instance, to draw much flak complaining about the state of our roadways in need of repair, and I was in the middle of such grumbling recently, when I stopped in the middle of it, and took George’s tack saying “But then, there were occasions in times past when road conditions were even worse. I worked at Timehri before I migrated and if you think we have bad roads now, I remind you of the East Bank Road in the 1960s which was much worse than what we now face. That road, as almost all our country roads, was a burnt-earth surface that heavy rains turned into a quagmire, similar to what we now see on the Lethem Trail. In the dry season, the East Bank road was a dust engine. I remember a friend, the late Jack Henry, visiting me at Timehri, and Jack, with his beloved Brylcreem hair addition, had been sitting at the rear of the bus all the way up. When he got off at Atkinson Field, he looked as if he was wearing a cap of red wool. Flat tyres on that road were torture to repair. So yes, we have bad roads now, but then…lemme tell you, we’ve seen worse.
Ian Macdonald’s “on the other hand” comments and George Jardim’s “but then” ripostes are in that category serving as a guide towards some balance. So, take a break from complaining about the No-Confidence Vote, conceding it is painful, but choose to note instead the stunning vistas we are fortunate to enjoy on a Rupununi trip. Or stop for a “But Then” thought coming from a couple hours on Saturday morning at Mon Repos Market on the East Coast with its Garden of Eden abundance, fresh from the farm, not tainted by chemicals.
Yes, there are frustrations, but then, in the midst of them, we should pause to consider the striking view along the Seawall Road, looking west into Georgetown, at sunset, framed by the illuminated arch recently erected beyond Courida Park. A year ago that didn’t exist; we have it now.
We’re not happy with the congestion in parts of town, and with the array of litter, but then, just a few minutes’ drive down the Seawall, we are navigating the new roundabout at the head of Vlissengen Road where traffic congestion has been eliminated and most vehicles now sail through.
Jardim’s “but then” approach has scores of applications. Complaining, for instance, about some aberrant Guyanese behaviour, we should add a “but then”, noting that we still maintain the lovely habit of saying “good morning’” to each other, often to complete strangers. For me, another one of those “but then” bright spots is the widespread Guyanese sense of humour, often propelled by some unsusual construction in our dialect, such as, “I couldn’t eat too much of the cookup; it wukkin ‘gainst.” Or, as someone told me last week, “Dat ice cream was too softee, softee.” A foreigner would be at a loss; Guyanese are cracking up.
The “but then” examples in the landscape to fortify us are obvious and widespread, but there are scores of instances in our everyday life to which we have become so accustomed that they merge into the vistas around us. However, as George Jardim might put it, “Indeed, but then, they are there. The trouble is we don’t take time to notice.”
Yes, our politics is an ants’ nest, but you can escape from that, if only for a time, in our creeks and rivers. And, yes, the Sheriff Street traffic-light at the Seawall was out for weeks, but then the air around it is not polluted. In other words, complain okay but then take note of the good stuff we have.
Using George Jardim’s concept, allow me to close with a “but then” using slightly different wording in a song I once wrote; which went. “Yes the girl foot fine, but then Lord she behind, is we own.”
