CHAPTER 8: KITE MAN

The test Kite now damaged from the journey.  We had no time to waste next morning we start rummaging our aunt’s yard looking for old box board to cutup to make parts for our broken kite. We found a few pieces and with a cutlass started chopping down on the wood. Suddenly we heard someone shouting at us

“Hay there! Hay you there!” We looked round and there was this tall skinny man pointing at us. “Stop that racket”  “Is what you all, think you doing?” We replied “We trying to repair our kit”. “Oh! I see.” “Come here let me help you all.”  “I am the Kite Man.”.  “Wait here Ah! Gon bring out me out me favorite knife”. “Baby Gal!” “Boy she is the sharpest gal I ever had, when she cut she, she does cut real clean and smooth”. Me use am to chop up nuff of them”. “Bring them boards, le me help you all build a big man kite”.  His fingers were long, and his hands was steady as he chopped and plane down the boards to be used for our kite. “Go get me some (Pacie) Pacie is a gummy sticky fruit that grew on a large tree in Aunt Sybil’s yard.  So we climbed the Pacie tree chopped down as many bunch of Pacie as we could, as fast as possible, because “red ants was biting we on all parts”.  Red ants always bite you in parts unmentionable.   “Red ants does live in Pacie trees, they love the Pacie fruit because it so sweet”. 
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CHAPTER 7: AUNT SYBIL’S

Crossing the Berbice river in a ferry from Rosignol to New Amsterdam an old town named by the Dutch.  We trudged our way down to Saint Ann Street with our luggage and tattered kite.  We arrived at my Aunt Sybil’s house late in the evening, it was already dark and we were greeted with lots of love and kisses by my mother and Aunt. Now Aunt Sybil’s house was an old time huge Dutch style house with a high roof, the ceiling space allows breeze to flow through the house. My aunt’s house also had lots of windows and a bottom house which she rented to boarders. The house was also surrounded by a Guinep tree and a Mango tree and a Dungs tree.   The Dungs tree was so close to the house that with a reach out of the window one could pick the Dungs. After a quick bath.  Cold water mixed with hot water from a kettle and poured into an enamel bucket. Followed by a quick rub down with soap from head to toe. A bowl to throw water over your body we hoped out the bath as soon as possible. Towel off, then on with your pajamas. We head down to the kitchen for a hot dinner. Aunt Sybil had a huge kitchen with a large table from which all activity revolved. We sat down to some fresh brewed hot  ground Cocoa with raw Cow’s Milk and some Bakes with Salt Fish and two Chinese Cakes for sweet.  The Cocoa tea the best I vow to anyone in the world. Roasted fresh Cocoa Beans ground in a hand mill and served with hot fresh Cow’s Milk; just milked for the cow earlier in the morning it’s a taste to be savored for a life time.

Once upon an Easter.
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CHAPTER 6: THE BRITISH SOLDIERS

With our spirits uplifted Clarence my aunt Yvonne and I began preparing for the big Easter Monday kite flying day.  Only to receive a letter from my mother Aunt Gertis stating that she wanted us to spend Easter with her in New Amsterdam. The next couple days was now spent preparing for the long journey to New Amsterdam.

We boarded the train in Georgetown, Lamaha Street in Cummingsburg to begin the trip New Amsterdam. 

To our amazement and joy as boys we were in the same compartment with two British soldiers.

Guyana the then “British Guiana” was a sovereign colony of England.  The British army sent soldiers to help squash the unrest and riots and return to country to a state of peace.                            

Between strained snips of conversation we got to know the English soldiers. They proved to be a savior to us after the train made one of its major stops at Mahaica. At this stop we are allowed to leave the train to stretch our feet buy and food and stuff.

What we did not know was Mahaica was also World Head Quarters for Sand Flies and Mosquitoes. The moment the train pulled out of the Mahaica station colonies of Sand Flies and Mosquitoes descended on us with most vicious attack of insect on man ever. Sand Flies will attack you in swarms on every exposed part of your body. They will find their way through your hair down to your skull and the bite every exposed part that no hair grows from and leave your head full of bumps, they are bad. The mosquitoes there will bite and drink every drop of blood you own by the time you reach to Rosignol, you will have no blood and pale. So there we were facing eminent death when the two English soldiers produced the most complete defense in the form of a bottle of Citronella oil. They offered to share some with us.  We graciously accepted their offer. We rubbed that oil on our body from head to toe. We literally took off our Yachting Boots and rubbed the oil between our toes and of course on our head, under our shirt and pants. “It just takes one sand fly to get under your shirt and pants to have you scratching and itching.  My brother and I will always be great full to those two English soldiers.

Once upon an Easter.

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CHAPTER 5: TEST FLIGHT

With Easter approaching fast and not having a wooden kite to fly my brother, Clarence and I were worried.  We explained to the Gardner our dilemma. He convinced us that our fears were unfounded and we could build our own wood kite. Up to that time we could only build pointer broom kits. Which were not very efficient kits. They were prone to breaking easily and had disastrous flying records.  The Gardner then proceeded to lead us through the steps of making our own wood kite with old pieces of board hanging around our yard.  And assisted by my aunt Yvonne who provide us with some of her Grease Proof paper and some color Barbados Paper we built two {Singing Engine kits} with big bulls so that they could hum in the air.  The kits being completed mine was put to the test flight. It flew so high it homed so loud it could be heard form miles, my heart could not stop pounding with happiness.  Then as if out of nowhere a strong gosh of wind blew and pop went the twine (Crochet #0) and away flew my kite.  There was no time to waste straight away we plunged in to action running in the direction of the falling kite. As fast as the kite fell it disappeared more speedily. We now had to go from yard to yard over fences fearing bad dogs and angry shouts. Finally we got to the yard of an old lady and decided to ask her if she had seen a fallen kite.  “Yes” she said, and then asks us to describe the kite. I slept well that night with my kite by my bedside.

Once upon an Easter.

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CHAPTER 4: THE GARDENER

CHAPTER 4: THE GARDENER

The time was the early sixties there was political unrest in Guyana schools were on vacation and my aunt Yvonne was out on strike so was my uncle Wilfred. There was rioting in the capital Georgetown, and political factions marooning the streets. It was getting close to Easter my brother Clarence and I were facing the daunting prospects of going without a kite. In Guyana it is traditional to fly kits on Easter Monday symbolizing the resurrection of Christ from the grave. We were moping around the house feeling sorry for ourselves and being lazy. 

Because Guyana experiences bursts of heavy rain at any time and extreme heat and sunshine the grass grow at an aggressive pace. It therefore happens on one of those hot spells that a Gardner came by and offered to cut the grass on our aunt’s Yvonne’s lawn for a small fee.  My aunt Yvonne quickly agreed.  We as boys stood and watched in amazement as he used his scythe to swipe through the tall grass. Due to the extreme heat and humidity the Gardner had to take a break which he did. We sat around him in my aunt back yard and chatted with him and watched in amazement as he sharpened his scythe.

Once Upon an Easter.

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CHAPTER 3: Milky

With the coming of Easter also comes Easter showers and Campbellville always floods.  Mr. Kerry our neighbor had a speed boat which he would float down to the wide trench at the back of our homes. The trench was called Milky.   And there gather all the boys of the street and we would go speeding up and down the trench. This was the water way where all the boys in the neighborhood learned how to swim.

Peter one of the older boys would lead us out to the middle of “Milky” floating on a log then take the log away and leave you in the middle. This called for desperate action frantic scramble to the shore line suddenly we were swimming.  Going to swimming in Milky was not however approved by my aunt Yvonne. Therefore after concocting lies as to our reason for leaving the house we would end up at “Milky” swimming naked as we were born. Best way to swim one felt a sense of freedom. After swimming for hours we return to banks looking for our cloths which we hid under some shrub.  Only to discover to our horror that they were gone.  My older cousin while we were having fun had crept up and grabbed our cloths. This presented a big dilemma how do we get home without cloths?  Hands between our legs and over our bottoms. Picture that?  Total humiliation as we walked down the street the girls of the neighborhood to see us and laugh at us; then licks like peas when we got home. And if you don’t holler loud you get more licks not an easy proposition never the less, we have to journey home. May be we wait till dusk? Still not good proposition dusk is chilly and cold mosquitoes and Sand flies bite your tail. 

Once upon an Easter.

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