July 13, 2009

(Note: I am home, but I have posts for the last three days that I will continue to put up here.)

Today was probably the easiest class day. We switched from hydrology and hydraulics, which is what Mark and I both work on and teach regularly. We are essentially teaching the software we write. I did have a couple extended conversations about individual projects and think I was able to provide helpful input. Here are a couple of pictures of the class room and teaching.

After the class we had planned to go with Kester to eat at one of his friends houses. Kester picked us up an hour late, which was not a huge surprise, especially given that he has a huge week coming up next week and went back to work after dinner.

The friend served two big pots of food. One was chicken curry, which was very good. The other I did not recognize. They called it a Pepper Pot[1]. Apparently this is what every house in Guyana makes for Christmas. The chicken curry reflects the South Aisian descent of our hosts, but the pepper pot is fundamentally Guyanese.

It was an Amer-Indians (Guyana’s native peoples) dish. According to our hosts the Ameri-Indians used to just keep a stew pot cooking with a local sweet root and some hot peppers in lieu of refrigeration. They said ‘Whatever they got in the jungle, a pig, a monkey, a snake, it went in the pot with everything else. And they just kept adding to it. It was never finished.’

They served roti[2] (a nan like flat, dense, unleavened bread) to eat with the curry and bread to eat with the pepper pot. No silverware. The breads were the eating utensils. Apparently, the bread is made with donated American grains. It sounds like we have been offering grain for a while but wheat bread wasn’t catching on. So they experimented with combination rice/wheat breads for a while until they found a mix that caught on. It was very good.

Kester’s friend ate with us but his wife served the meal and then did not join us. This struck me a odd, until it came out that they were Muslims. There was Urdu script on the wall and on the way out he told me a story about the tree in the front yard. Apparently it was a date palm grown from a date his mother had brought back from her hajj to Mecca.

On the way home, Kester took us by his mother’s house so he could see his son and we could meet his extended family. They were very warm and welcoming. His son was very cute. Going from Kester’s colleague’s house, to a house that reflected Kester’s background, however, demonstrated how far he had climbed socio-economically. We were particularly honored that he would bring us by to see his son. His son is just over 2 years like Charis. Mark took a picture and showed him, and he pointed at his own image and said his name. It was super cute.

We got back to the hotel around 8 with a lot of work still to do. We didn’t get to bed until 1ish.

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[1] This was unlike anything I had ever had before which made it a cool cross cultural adventure. Unfortunately, it also made for a couple days of gastrointestinal adventure. Worth it.
[2] I ran into this in both Nepal (we called in Chapati in Nepal and I got to ‘help’ make it) and Africa, which our hosts suggested. It is interesting in Guyana because both major populations, those of African descent and those of South Asian descent, enjoy roti as part of their cultural heritage. Kester said the only difference was which syllable got the accent.