Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Happy?!?

Thursday pour down light the colour of yellow limes, and the breeze was like the drink you make with them limes, crisp ‘n’ cool. Warm sun toast me gentle-gentle as I tackle the yard, swooshing out the thin brown flim that the flood did leave.

Along the road, tradesmen and gardeners, all shades o’ coffee-complexion, pass on they way to work. ‘Morning, they greet.

Next door, the broom sing sweesh, sweeEEesh, swEEeeEesh as Yardman wash out that concrete, whistle-whistle he tuneless ditty but merry like a bird in a tree, then suddenly he fling out a song from the tip of he toes, from the pit of he belly, from the depths of he lungs.

Work-thoughts swish ‘round me head while I push and shove plant pots and splash bucketsful o’ water that turn to milk with Dettol, washing the brown flim towards the driveway, into the drain, with the rubber-wiper on the long stick. You can’t kill wuk, wuk does kill you, Guyanese does say, but I know a man who wuk so hard and fast that he finish wuk before wuk kill he, so people call he Kill-Wuk. Speedy is he other name. He is now past retirement age but he is still working, building a house up the road.

Speak of the…Kill-Wuk appear at we gate. “You get a lotta wuk here,” he say.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “We land sinking, water does come in as soon as rain fall too much.”

“No, the land nah sink! You’ yard more low than the road. And more rain falling nowadays.”

He limp away, going home early today, leave me with me work-thoughts, I know a’ older lady in a fine neighbourhood in this here poor country who would rather dead than get ketch doin’ this, she would feel mortally shame if people see she. And if she ever spy me, ohhh, what a scandal she would spread, but that is she problem, if she want to spend she life sitting on the Internet, whinging to all ears and eyes overseas, complaining about she misery…

I stand at we driveway, trimblin’ with weariness and hunger, under them trees, where the leaves and branches knit a lace of shadows and beads of light, covering me. At me feet, sunlight scatter a set o’ crystal sequins in a saucer-size pool o’ clear water. I look up the road, sea-breeze puff across me skin, cool and light. And it occur to me there and then, how happy I feel.

10 comments:

Kim Ayres said...

I love the way I can see, feel, hear, smell and taste your tales. They transport me far away from a cold, damp, Scotland :)

CG said...

Wow, the Gyal is prappa happy!!! xx

Guyana-Gyal said...

Kim, I've never been to "cold, damp Scotland", but I've seen photos, and oh, your country is so beautiful. Here, there's litter, garbage most places you go. I try to find beauty no matter what. It helps.

CG, it was one o' them good days when I decided not to worry about anything.

Jdid said...

nice! ya kno I think I been away too long cause I faget about putting dettol and jays fluid in de water

cadiz12 said...

it's refreshing to have a day when you're not worrying about anything, isn't it? too bad it can't last all day.

Guyana-Gyal said...

Cadiz, refreshing...that's the word. As for making the good feeling last all day, I wonder if that's possible. The key is thought control. It's called freezing the frame. A lot of work, it is.

Jdid, I don't why you leave nice, sunny B'dos for that ice-cold place. But anyway, slather up with sun protection, play some steel-pan or reggae, put some Dettol or Jeyes fluid in a bucket o' water and you gon feel as if you's back home.

Kaya said...

GG, I know a kill-wuk, too. he keep he cutlass well sharp and cut anything from grass to cane. gyurl I love this vibe...I just want hold yuh, wrap my arms all around yuh....LOL

Guyana-Gyal said...

K, how I admire those people who work like that. They're the stuff our ancestors were made of, aren't they? They keep me going.
Hugs to you too :-)

Hayden said...

funny how people are about honest work. Some think it's a curse, but a day's work can make you feel good. And it sure makes you feel better to be out in the yellow-lime light than sitting inside whining into the internet.

I wonder sometimes about the folks here, what they think of me out there pruning my trees instead of 'hiring a laborer to do it.' Most probably think I'm crazy.

Guyana-Gyal said...

Hayden, tell them about endorphins and serotonin which you get from exercise. And if they work outdoors, it's better than a stinky ol' gym, they get fresh air rather than stale, recycled oxygen.