More memorable sounds 2nd July 2009.

Sunset in Guyana is relatively short and as soon as darkness sets in, an orchestra of sounds begin. The six o’clock beetle (or bee?) would give a burst of buzzing sounds like a mini electric saw, to announce that the show was about to start.
Soon the frogs sang out loudly with their throaty voices, cicadas fiddled a continuous accompaniment, crickets chirped occasionally to highlight the medley of sounds. This went on throughout the night.

During the rainy season, the frogs would try to outdo each other as they bellowed out "Ribbit, ribbit... I’m the sexiest frog of you lot! Croak, croak!" And of course there was the odd bark from a dog to heckle some stranger going past it.

But it was just before sunrise that I have especially fond memories of my home country. Just before the dawn of a new day, cockerels (Oh gawd! write fowl cocks, nah man!) would call out verbally abusing each other, thereby proclaiming their territory.
I can just see them now, deep breath in, flapping their wings energetically, as they crow loudly: "Cock a doodle dooo!"

Incidentally, where I live in the UK, on the way to the newsagents, I actually heard a cock crow. I was so disappointed with it. All it could muster was: "Cack dooh! Cack dooh!" in a broken voice like it was suffering from a sore throat!
I guess it’s because it grew up as the only male chicken around, poor thing, no role model to follow.

Across Lombard Street to the West of us, was the rubbish incinerator, and about 5.30 am. the drivers would lead their donkeys pulling the collection carts on their way to various parts of the city.
Some went East past where we lived in Drysdale Street, and others North along Lombard Street. The cart wheels rumbling in concert with the donkeys’ hooves made a pleasant waking call for me to get ready to rise and shine!
This was soon followed by the raucous calls of the kiskadees! There was one that would stand on top of the telephone pole across the road and seem to shout: "Kickadee! Kickadee! I’m the king of the kiskadees! Who wants to fight me?"

At about 6.30 am, Georgetown came alive! Dray carts pulled by horses or mules rattled and clipity-clopped past at a trot, well the empty ones that is to say. The loaded ones went past more circumspectly, obviously.
There were not many cars or lorries on the road in those days, and most persons went to work on bicycles. I miss the "bling! bling!" warning of a bicycle bell.

Hey! I mustn’t forget the sound of rain. It’s so nice to experience a heavy tropical shower, especially when you’re indoors. The staccato "Pittah, Pattah!" on the windowpanes, the drumming of the raindrops on the sheet-steel roof, was so soothing that it made me want to curl up in bed. But sometimes the ear-deafening clap of thunder overhead and blinding flash of lightning were rather scary.

The characteristic smell of rain on earth/tarmac will never be forgotten. Would you believe it? It smells the same here in the UK! And so it continued on throughout the day, somewhere there would be ducks quacking, cocks crowing, hens cackling, cats meowing, cows mooing, sheep bleating, kiskadees kiskadeeing, dogs barking, people greeting each other, horses whinnying. What noises do goats make? Mehhh?

There were other song-birds such as canaries noted for their warbling melodies. Owls hooted at night. There were the noiseless circling of carrion-crows overhead and the screech of the chicken-hawks. And so the tapestry of sounds from morning to night repeated itself, punctuated by the seasons however.

At Easter there were the throaty roar of traditional paper kites. A kite-flyer would tug repeatedly on the string to encourage his kite to sing.
During the Pagwah festivity, there were the happy noises of people exclaiming their delight at getting wet with coloured water or throwing powder on each other.
And at Christmas, dear Christmas, how my heart remembers those days that I sometimes long for. The Xmas trees lit up with fairy lights and stars or fairies on top. The sometimes irritating "bang! bang!" from toy guns being fired. And the dull 'whoomp!' of someone exploding a carboid-filled Ovaltine tin-can.
I can almost feel the excitement as we rushed to the window to see the steel band or masquerade band going past.

Christmas was also noted for mouth-watering foods and the traditional special fruit cake, dark in colour from being matured in red wine for months and months. There was the obligatory gluttonous noises of people gorging their Xmas dinner, well from me at least, I’m a little pig when it comes to food! One Xmas I ate so much, as I left the table, my stomach began hurting like hell, so much so that I had to sit on the floor for maybe an hour before the pains abated sufficiently for me to get up.

There are other noises too, that lie in the nooks and crannies of my mind, and only make a shy appearance when I'm least expecting it, like the 'ouch' when a red-ants bite yuh! Or the disturbing high-pitch whine of a mosquito, as it flies past your ear!
Uh, oh! Time to be quiet now, think I've made enough noise! :-)