Trip to Paruima

There is a village that is a fifteen minute flight from Paruima called Kamarang. This village has a very nice airstrip (in bush terms) and is a central hub for flights into the interior. Since there are no roads that lead to any of the villages in this particular section of Guyana the only option is to fly in. David Gates was planning a flight into Kamarang to continue a TV satellite project he started there and decided it would be a good idea to fly us in with him instead of making James make a whole trip to Georgetown (2 hours one way) just to pick us up. It made sense so Thursday morning we drove out to the airport, packed his fancy little plane with all kinds of stuff (mostly our bulky luggage) and took off.

As we flew through a rather cloudy sky I was thrilled to see the landscape change from the flat jungle we were so familiar with in Bethany to rolling hills and eventually mountains. I realized how much I missed seeing mountains when we beheld the gentle peaks and towering plateaus from the air. It was truly breathtaking. I wish I could have gotten some good pictures of what I saw, but you know how it is, pictures never capture the true image as seen with the human eye. As we neared Kamarang, way off in the distance were two significant plateaued mountains. David told us that if we flew between those two mountains we'd be in Venezuela. Cool! But our course dropped us down to the course runway of Kamarang.

Once in Kamarang, Michael helped David and Mark work on setting up a large satellite dish while we waited for James. There was only one little problem, James still didn't know we were all the way in the interior already. David wasn't able to get a hold of him on the radio earlier so we left without the necessary communication. Gary (one of our other pilots) stayed back at the plane, hoping to catch him on his plane radio before he headed all the way into Georgetown. Though he never got a hold of James directly, Gary was able to get the message to the little airport in Georgetown who relayed it to him once he was on his way. James got the message a tiny bit late, but he turned around and was on the ground in Kamarang in very little time. Boy, were we glad to see him.

We reloaded our luggage into the new plane and it wasn't long before we were airborne. The trip was fairly quick, which was a good thing since I had a fuel container in the tiny bit of leg room I might have otherwise have enjoyed. It made good friends with my shins during the flight. One thing we learned very quickly about Paruima; every trip to town counts. They are so far removed from civilization that on the chance a trip is being made into town, the plane has to be filled to capacity with supplies on the return journey. Standard procedure around these parts.

As the plane circled over the village of Paruima, I was delighted at what I beheld. The village was nicely spread out and neatly manicured with a quaint variety of houses, two football (soccer) fields, and a couple schools including DIIC. It was nestled in the peaceful crook of a beautiful winding river. The river was wonderfully strewn with occasional boulder and dugout canoes. Michael and I were enamored with the boulders. There are absolutely no rocks in Bethany, not even pebbles or stones. Here was a visual feast of them and it was hard to contain our excitement.

Another key feature of the village its beautiful church standing proudly on the highest hill. This church belongs to a hearty congregation of around three hundred Seventh-Day Adventist Amerindian villagers and stands like an inviting beacon, beckoning people to come join in the fellowship.

The airstrip in Paruima is unique to any other I have been on yet. It was all grass! It was a very soft, bouncy landing. I rather enjoyed it. James, who always seems to be running errands of some sort, had to drop us off and leave again to go pick up more fuel in town. We unloaded and carried everything down to the river's edge where we were told we would be picked up. The river was so incredibly beautiful that Michael and I kicked off our shoes and plunged right in. It was cold enough to take our breath away, but it was wonderful! We splashed around in the strong current until we saw a boat coming our way. We assumed this was the school's boat and sure enough, as it got closer we saw two very eager white people on board. The driver was a very cute, older Amerindian man named Shadrach.

It was comforting to know that even though we were in a new place we would have several familiar faces to greet us. We had the rare opportunity of having met the staff of DIIC over the Christmas holidays. Michael and I had spent a couple days in Georgetown at the same time the four missionary teachers from DIIC were also staying at the mission house. We had a nice time chatting with them and getting to know them a bit then. Who knew that we would soon be working together! Two of these teachers were able to come greet us now. Maria, a sweet Austrian girl with a ready smile, and Steve a talkative American in galoshes, lept to shore and helped us on board with our load. I was so happy to be on the water again as we glided through the silky water. I find I am happiest when I'm on the water. It's been that way from the day I arrived in Guyana. We rode past little houses, patches of bamboo and plenty of jungle trees, wondering what our immediate futures would bring at Davis Indian Industrial College.