These are old blogs that were initially posted on Drew Edward's blog The Scratching Post.

Aaaaand It Get’s Real

First off I want to give a big thanks to Drew Edwards for allowing me to invade his blog periodically for the next couple weeks leading up to and during the trip to Guyana. It’ll undoubtedly be less humorous than a regular entry from Drew, but that’s mainly because the issue is less of a humorous nature. Also because Drew told me I can’t be funnier than he is on his own blog.

With less than a month to go before we hop on a plane and much still to do, myself, Dr. Nar Singh (http://www.guyanahelpthekids.com), Dr. Brian Cameron, Dr. Andrea Hunter and Ms. Julia Pemberton met to work out some details around the trip. Upon coming to the meeting there had been a lot discussed, but not much solidification of plans. By the end of the meeting we had our travel arrangements, planned our ideal media coverage, and had an itinerary. Part of that itinerary included the possibility of meeting the Prime Minister of Guyana. I pretty much blacked out for a good 45s after Dr. Singh mentioned that as a possibility – and I mean that. I really have zero recollection of what was said during the 45s after it was mentioned. My mind was just going. Not that I know him or posses a particular affection for politicians, but just the idea of meeting the leader of a country, much less my country of origin, especially for a reason that could affect Guyana in a positive way…I imagine it’s going to be pretty surreal.

By the end of the meeting I realized I was the only one who hadn’t booked his ticket yet, and apparently tickets were scarce. That night I booked the last two seats on the plane (thank God) and then it all kinda hit me “this is really ‘bout to happen.” Not to say that I ever thought the project was going to fall apart, but just the reality of the situation hit. I’ve talked about going back to Guyana, since…..since I left, really. But never had the thought ever become reality – and now, it had. I’m really going to get a chance to see my old city, my old schools, my old neighborhood, my old house. I’ll be seeing all that for the first time in almost 18 years. I’ll get a chance to sharpen all those fuzzy memories of an 8 year old. I’m like the most nostalgic person I know and maybe that’s why just thinking ‘bout going back carries such weight. But, I called my dad and told him the tickets were booked. Now my dad’s not exactly the ‘jump for joy’ type, but I could almost hear him smiling on the other end of the phone.  

The excitement for this trip is building. It’s a blessing that I’m involved with this project.