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! :-)

Memorable Sounds! 17th May 2009.

Soon after turning five years old, we moved from Bent Street to Drysdale Street. There were so many more activities going on there compared to Bent Street. Across the road from us was the Fire Station. The sound of the alarm bell ringing to alert the firemen to get ready to put out a fire, also alerted us that sumthin was on.
The youngest of my sisters and I would rush to the window to see what was going on. We were soon caught up with the excitement upon seeing the firemen rushing about. Putting on their helmets and boarding the tender as quickly as they could. The climax for us, was the sound of the siren going "Deee Dahh! Dee Dahh!"
Hang on, I think I tell a lie, it may have been a bell, Ding! Ding!...Ding! Dinggg! as the tender pulled out from the station with speed! Yuh know sumthin? I really surprise myself at remembering dese tings!

There was a big mango tree on the High-Street side of the station, and a biggish star-apple tree on the Lombard-Street side of it. Sometimes in the evenings, we would hear the sound of stones crashing through the leaves of the mango tree. Boys would throw stones at the tree in the hope that they would dislodge a few mangoes from the tree.
But not for long as the firemen would chase the boys away. However, when the tree was fully laden with ripe fruit, they would arrange for a boy to climb the tree and get the mangoes.
Word would soon spread to the local resisdents. The fireman who was sharing out the mangoes would very quickly be surrounded amidst cries of "Me! Me! Me nah get any mango man!" With outstretched hands pleading for a share of mangoes.

Oh Gawd! Friday and Saturday night was bad nights for us chillren trying to sleep. There were two cake shops across the road from us and there was big competition to see which shop could pull the most customers with its blaring jukebox playing the latest calypsos.
This went on through the night! I don’t know how long for sure, somehow I fell asleep before 10 o’clock. How do I know this? There’s a clock on the wall outside my bedroom which chimed every 15 minutes and the full count on the hour. I rarely heard the clock chiming after 9.30 pm though.
But we enjoyed hearing the latest calypsos and watching people leaning on their bicycles outside the cake shops as they listened to the music. It's so amazin how you can get used to enjoy 'earing two different songs being played at the same time.

Oh yes! On Sunday, we had the Salvation Army in attendance. We could hear the characteristic "Boom! Boom! Boom!" and the trumpets blaring out "Onward Christian Soldiers" as they marched to an area on the road in front of the star-apple tree. Oh, the army sang the hymn too, yuh really tink they would march quietly? Nah man, yuh shud know bettah!
From the comfort of looking out through a window at home, I could see that the good Captain(?) would begin by reading a few passages from the Holy Bible.
Then he preached or rather berated all and sundry around him to be God-fearing. We must be very good to avoid everlasting damnation with the flames of hellfire and brimstone raining down on your back! Not nice! Not nice at all!
Perhaps it must have benefited me as I think I turned out to be a fairly good person. ;-)