My last visit made me happy with the camera. I made a plan and I executed it. I wanted to "see" my memories and I wanted to relate to all of you that it was great to be home.
This time, it is again with the same feeling of "glad to be home" that my reactions are almost the opposite. This time I want to create an image of a Guyana that needs concern; it is a Guyana that needs care; it is a Guyana that gave many of us on the outside the first solid grounding in self esteem and confidence. Now that I've traveled a bit, I know the importance of identity and culture; I know the importance of education of all kinds.
So, this all made my walk difficult this morning. I did and didn't want to expose Guyana. I did and I didn't want to acknowledge what is a part of life. I did not want to be unbalanced; I did not want to jump to conclusions; I did not want to embarrass my country. I immediately understood the temptation to be biased and to let the camera and my eye be selective - take those flowers not the trash kind of thing. But, there are people in Guyana - the land of waters - who are bathing and drinking from the trench. Just one person in this position is a reason to raise a voice. In Georgetown near the market there are poor people who look skeletal in the land of plenty food.
I felt guilty taking these pictures. I felt as if I was invading the privacy of family.
Here is my walk
And then there are the questions. Here is a story that repeats itself in Georgetown. The building is surrounded by pot holes, filled gutters, and trash in all areas of the street. Just up the road are men on the paves. I found myself adjusting like all Guyanese. I did not walk on the paves, I walked near the middle of the streets. I crossed the streets without looking at the lights but I looked to see if there were cars on the way and tried to judge the time I had to cross.
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