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AROUND THE WORLD IN 11 YEARS
March 15, 2002
Encounter problems at the airport. The airport authority tells me that they can’t load the cycle without packing it into a box. They claim that the cycle might damage the plane. Must be a very fragile plane! I look for an interview in the local papers to show them who I am. Find one in the Wire. When they see it, they become more cooperative and help me load the cycle. They take $20 for that though.
I didn’t take any pictures or souvenirs form Trinidad. Don’t want to remember this place. All the restaurants, shops, internet cafes have lock systems; everything is under lock and key. People here are very insecure. It’s a wonder I’m getting out of here alive.
Reach South America at 2:30. There were only four foreigners including me on the plane. The Immigration Officer has gone for a tea break, because there were so few of us. Have to wait for him for 10 minutes.
Find some Trinidad currency in my purse, which I didn’t have time to exchange. An unwanted souvenir! Guyana is a small country with a major part of its land covered with forests and swamps. There are not much vehicles here. Beer drinking tourists crowd bars and restaurants here from early morning.
Try calling Nepal from here but they don’t have the international code. It’s difficult to find English-speaking people here. Meet a 65 year-old man called Andre. He didn’t know how I could call Nepal from here either, but he invites me for a beer. We buy beer at the Place Des Palmists Park and then Andre offers to drive me around the city in his car. There isn’t much to see. We drive past Canal Le blond on Rue Digue Ronjon. I notice a lot of street girls here. A cheap disco on the Avenue de la Liberte blasts us with loud music. Andre asks me if I want any of the girls. Tell him I don’t have money to waste on street girls. “If you want free sex, we can have sex together,” says Andre slyly. Now I realize why he offered me beer. I nearly puked.
16 March
The evening sky has enveloped Cayenne City. People are having coffee in restaurants. I see many Chinese shops and restaurants in Cayenne. Packing enough food and water for a day, I set out to the road to the forest. The road ahead is really straight – no uphill, no downhill. Rainforests and swamps are on either sides of the road. The road is totally secluded – no houses, no settlements. I reach a small village, Tonate, at around 12 noon. Emergency phone booths can be seen at every consecutive distance of 1km-2km. I keep away from the sides of the road to avoid snakes. 3:00pm – I reach Kourou and have lunch at a Chinese restaurant. People speak French over here. I don’t understand French and they don’t understand English. No wonder language is usually considered a barrier for communication!
17 March
I spent the whole day in the forest. Traffic decreased once I left Kourou. Snakes and frogs were still lying dead on the road. The emergency booths could still be seen. Cloudy day – it could rain anytime. I reached a resting park called Crique Malmanour at around 1pm. I had a half-an-hour break and again resumed my journey. Then something really strange happened. I was going along the road when a white car stopped a few metres ahead from me. I waved at the car as I moved ahead. There were two black people in the car. After a while, the car overtook me and after 200m or so, it took a turn and stopped. I took no notice of the car this time and went ahead. After 10 minutes, the car again overtook me and stopped at the same distance as before at a turn. The car still had those two people and they were looking at me carefully as I looked at them. Now I felt really uncomfortable. I was sure something terrible was going to happen. I felt so nervous that my whole body felt weak with fear. Horrible thoughts entered my mind. To save myself. I got out of my cycle and dragged it out of the road into the forest. After walking with my cycle for around 25m, I started feeling better. Then I rested my cycle against a tree and I climbed that tree. I took out my kukri. I could see the road. I waited for that white car to come again. I was still scared. I glanced at my kukri and various questions crop up in my mind. Monkeys swinging from one tree to another distract as well as frighten me but thankfully they don’t come to my tree. I spend one full hour on that branch during which I see many white cars but not the one I was scared of, the one with the number plate 66 ALB 3. I climb down. Again I wonder whether or not to go back to the road. But then I say to myself,’ I am not a criminal and I have nothing to be scared of.’ I go back to the road. I am cautious and notice every car, especially the white ones. After completing the 60km journey through the jungle, I reach Sinnamary. Once again life has hope to live and to go on – come what may!
source-Pushkar's diary,Wavemagazine
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