Berbice, Guyana
Padayatra is completed but the pilgrimage goes on. Rupa and I decided that the earlier the start, the greater the distance that can be covered. Our first step on the road was 3:20AM. The stars clearly above us indicated it would be another hot one today. After some distance I required a urine break. It was still dark and I saw a hydro plant with a fortified fence as a quiet refuge. As I was close to positioning myself, I saw something move. It was a person with a uniform and skin colour well with the colour of pre-dawn.
“Yes, what do you want?” said the woman. “I’m here to take a little break – to rest. We’ve been walking and are on our way to Suriname, the next country.”
This took the security guard by surprise, just as much as I was surprised to see her. Her initial defensiveness turned into friendliness. She gave her name, “Tracy” and so we talked on with a metal frame between us.
At another break (after dawn), I kicked up my weary legs leaning them against Fruita Malta Snackette, a small wooden building – a convenience store. To avoid red ants, I laid on a bench while Rupa was on guard to watch when the owner would come to open his shop. There’s nothing to worry about here. Attitudes are easy going.
In the course of the morning Rupa and I found that people in Guyana really do know our roles. In their minds we are the “Haribols.” An additional night-time three hour walk put the day’s tally to my usual category of a marathon walk of 42 km. A portion of this time was occupied by the local Haribols of the Rose Hall temple. We grew to twenty-five as an impromptu procession. Padayatra did not really end in Guyana. It’s become a craze. People come out of their homes onto their balconies which are located across from these all-too-common canals, wave a hand and shout “Haribol” which literally means “say the name of He who takes away all negativity.
42 km
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