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Bauxite
and Waterfalls by Harry Machin I have just come back from three weeks in Guyana, previously British Guiana, a country with a land area greater than Britain and a population of only 1 million. It is one of three Guianas, the others (Surinam or Dutch Guiana, and French Guiana) having even less population and being even poorer in GNP terms. A lot of people emigrate, especially to Canada and the USA - everyone seems to have relatives or friends in Toronto. The country is not well known. Some people, including a Mensa SIG Secretary (not TravelSIG!) thought it was the same place as Ghana. As you travel-literate people will know, it is in fact on the North coast of South America and, despite being on the mainland, is effectively part of the Caribbean. It is not an easy place to get to. There are no direct flights from UK airports. The two routes that I know about at the moment are with British West Indian Airways to Barbados or Trinidad, followed by Guyana Airways to Georgetown. Both potentially involve long transit times, flight delays or both - it took me 24 hours travelling to get back via Trinidad. Guyana Airways require 3 hours check-in time at Georgetown, and it pays to be there on time because the flights can be overbooked. One of my colleagues thought 90 minutes was ample time and had a struggle to get a seat on the aircraft. BWIA ("We are the Caribbean") is either delightfully eccentric or to be avoided like the plague, depending on how tolerant you are. I travelled on a business class ticket, which seems to be in no-mans-land between first class and economy. The initial seat reservations had been made in economy seats, which were easy to upgrade on the half empty outward flight, but the return flight was a different story. The girl at the Port of Spain transit desk had her instructions - no-one could upgrade to the "Royal Hibiscus" cabin without proper shoes (i.e. not trainers) and a jacket. I said I had these items, but they were in my checked-in baggage. No problem. Off we went through security, through doors saying "Authorised Personnel Only", out to the tarmac and the baggage trolleys where I located the suitcases, pulled out the required articles of clothing, put them on and got my upgrade. By then it was too late to take a taxi round the island, but the extra leg room was worth it. So why go to Guyana? I am helping to privatise a bauxite mine in Linden, Guyana's second city; the project is a good example of what is wrong with the economy. Guyana used to be the world's major producer of high quality bauxite, the industry being profitably run by overseas (mainly Canadian) expatriates. A communist government came to power in the early 1970s, nationalised the mining industry and sent the foreigners home, initiating 20 years of decline and mismanagement. The mine has been loss-making for several years, requiring substantial government funds to stay afloat. The job is, first, to disentangle some of the functions that the core mine doesn't need, including an electricity power station that also supplies a residential community of 60,000 people, a farm, a golf course and several small businesses that are still on the mine's payroll, and then to find a buyer for the mine itself. Is it worth going for pleasure, as opposed to business? The surprising answer is yes, if only for a few days. Georgetown, the capital, has some superb old colonial buildings, including what I think is the largest wooden cathedral in the world, and some very busy and colourful street markets (but watch your pockets). It also has some very pleasant hotels with poolside bars, nice decor etc, and some lively night life. It must have been quite a place in its time, though it is a bit dilapidated now. Food and drink is much cheaper than the UK, though the top hotels are expensive (US$ 100+ per night). For cricket fans it would be well worth a visit to the Bourda ground when a match is on - West Indies play Test cricket there in addition to Guyana playing Antigua, Trinidad, Barbados etc. Guyana plays a major role in West Indian cricket, having produced Clive Lloyd, Rohan Kanhai, Alvin Kallicharan and, amongst current players, Carl Hooper and Shivnarine Chanderpaul. Outside Georgetown, there is a vast expanse of unspoiled rain forest, which is drained by four huge and spectacular rivers. One of the tributaries contains the world's highest single vertical drop waterfall, Kaieteur Falls, which forms the basis of a memorable day trip. You fly from a local airport in an 8-seater rubber band job, over the agricultural plains, rain forest and rivers, land at the waterfall and walk around. You can see it both from a distance and, stunningly, from on top - you can put a hand in the water as it goes over the edge - and have it more or less to yourself, give or take some 10 to 20 other tourists flown in by 8-seater aircraft. This is a far cry from the sleaze of Niagara Falls. Then it's back to the aircraft, the terrain changes to savannah (grassland) and you land on a bumpy piece of ground close to a more gentle waterfall which you can sit under to cool off. There is lunch (packed in the aircraft, there are no snack bars) and a swim over to the Brazilian border if you can find it. Dry off, avoiding biting insects for which a white man damp from the water is the culinary experience of a lifetime, and fly back to Georgetown before dark. There are some other interesting looking trips that I haven't done yet, including river trips, deserted islands and longer stays in lodges and hotels in the wilderness. I also found the mine itself fascinating, with different rock formations, man made lakes and different types of bauxite produced in various grades and textures. It has a lot more going for it than the mining and industrial museums in the UK, which manage to do a reasonable trade over here. The climate is hot and sticky, but there is a brisk trade wind from the ocean and most places have fans or air conditioning. The people are friendly, which came as a pleasant surprise after reading about extreme poverty, high crime rates and "choke and rob" mugging. My colleague and I spent a lot of time wandering around, especially early in the morning and around dusk, and never saw a hint of trouble - perhaps we were just lucky or else we managed to look too shabby to rob. As most people know by now, it isn't a good idea to wander round these places with expensive watches, cameras etc in full view. I was only asked for money once, when I was doing the tourist bit and getting out of a car, camera in hand. Otherwise it was a welcome change from all the begging in London. I did have some strange encounters. I drove into the mining town at night with a Guyanese colleague and parked the car in a busy, rough looking area. "Hey you, tall guy, smiling, I want to know your name and number". I gave the man with the mouth this information (I assume he meant the car number), my colleague paid one of his sidekicks U$l00 (50p), we all shook hands and chatted a bit and the car remained unmolested during a stay of several hours. Interesting that he only said tall and smiling, given that my main distinguishing feature was being white - political correctness seems to cut both ways. Members of the police force hang around on the main road out of Georgetown to the mining area, stopping cars and looking for bribes to top up their inadequate salaries. We were continually stopped, but always waved on without problems, presumably because they knew we could cause trouble in high places if necessary. I was careful with food and water (no ice cubes, no salad, wash your hands more often than Lady Macbeth, don't open your mouth in the shower etc), and was rewarded by not having to use the Lomatil. But it would be easy to pick up gut problems - the restaurants in Georgetown have a reputation for re-heating food and the water must be boiled - and we were fortunate to have a resident consultant who has spent almost a year in Georgetown and knows which places to avoid. Would I go
back to Guyana? Yes, because the job isn't finished yet, and because I
would like to see the mining community pull through its current crisis
and perhaps help in some way. I would recommend the Kaieteur Falls trip
to anyone who is reasonably fit and not prone to heat stroke. First published in VISA issue 19 (winter 1995) |