Up the Demerara River

Up the Demerara River

Alford Khan


GBP 15,80

Format: 13.5 x 21.5 cm
Number of Pages: 378
ISBN: 978-3-99048-300-8
Release Date: 18.02.2016
An intriguing story about an aspiring dentist Peter, moved to a place called Sappanam and got acquainted with good friends. The environment and his good relationship with wise people changed his life pattern from a disciplined dentist to a Commissioner. Watch out for this interesting story with fascinating characters and the subplot within that involve romance, adventure and unquestionable success.
CHAPTER 1
The Long Journey

My sleep was interrupted at 5.30 in the morning by great shouting and crying. I listened intently for a while when I realised that someone had suddenly died during the night and the relatives were just informed. To add to the disorder, the stall vendors, two streets away, were adding to the confusion with their noisy packing and braying donkeys. When the hubbub was over I was unable to get back to sleep. My thoughts turned immediately to my own uncharted future. I had finished high school and was successful with my exams. My friends and I were so pleased that on the last day of school we thought of being a bit naughty by smoking a cigarette as a way of celebration. No sooner had I placed the cigarette between my lips when a black man approached me; he was well-dressed with a waistcoat and a gentleman’s shirt. I noticed the shirt because only my dad and a few other men in town wore them. He pulled the cigarette from my lips and gave me a resounding slap across the cheek and calmly told me to go and tell my dad that Doctor Bristol smacked me. He then crushed the cigarette with his foot and walked away. He knew I would not dare tell my dad what happened. If I did I would only get a telling-off and be deprived of seeing my friends for a week. It was the second time that day I had been punished. The first was because of something I did not care to think about and because I had no control over what caused it. The second was due to teenage naughtiness.

We lived on the outskirts of town in a small community of predominantly Portuguese business men and British administrators. We were classified as Portuguese and not Europeans for the simple fact that our grandfathers came from Madeira. This was of course a political classification and did not have any adverse reaction on the Portuguese community. In spite of this classification, we lived and socialised quite amicably with the European communities.
For the same political reason, we tended to be aloof from the villagers living less than a mile away; these were the East Indian farmers and labourers and they seemed to understand the reasons for the social divide. In order to maintain that equilibrium, my mother kept a tight rein on my social activities and all that over protectiveness was not making my life easier. Most of my friends were from the community in which we lived, except an East Indian lad named Persotum Persaud. He was a very bright student and whenever he visited my home he was allowed to meet me in the room on the ground f loor. I resented this partly because when my other friends came to visit, I was allowed the freedom of the house.
My father, on the other hand, did exactly what my mother said. I was sixteen and I visited his surgery nearly every day. My ulterior motive was to get a chance to do dental repairs for four dollars which I could keep. I would like to point out that four dollars was more than the weekly wage a labourer would earn. That was the only pocket money I ever got. It suited me fine as I was able to treat my friends each Friday at Mr Choo’s luncheon room with his Chinese delicacies.
My train of thoughts orbited in a new direction. Do I find a job until such time that I can really decide where my future lies? The possibility of working temporarily in my father’s laboratory did not fill my heart with any enthusiasm. My father was a strict disciplinarian and seemed unable to understand my urgent needs or aspirations. He was the only dentist in town and he had two technicians working in the laboratory, not very bright young men, their social life was drinking with their friends and terrifying the young ladies on their shopping trips.
My journey through my thoughts was interrupted when my dad knocked on my door and invited me to come and have breakfast, “I have a proposal for you.” He shouted before marching off to the dining room. I did not like the sound of his voice; it was the tone he used when he was giving rigid instructions to his laboratory workers. Those two would like nothing better that having the boss’s son working with them.
At breakfast, I eyed my father suspiciously. He caught me glancing at him. It was at this point he pointed his fork at me and said sternly “I want you to accompany me to McKenzie in the morning. You have all day to get your clothes and personal things together as we will be away for six months.”
“Six months?” I asked.
“Is there a problem with that?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I have no friends there, my social life will be long and boring, I heard the men there only drink and chase women in their free time; and why are we going there when you have lots of patients here, no competition, and what about mother how will she cope for six months while we are in that lawless place.”
“Of course it’s a wild place and possibly not the best of places to have a young man of your tender age to mature. You have heard me mentioned my friend Matthew Longhorn. He is the Commissioner of the hinterland and has invited me to do some work there. He kindly offered a place for my surgery at the hospital and also a small house in the Wismar area. I gave my word I’ll be there. One important thing to bear in mind I will be earning four times as much as I earn here and you will be paid a handsome salary.”
“What happen if the people do not want dental treatment or cannot afford it?” I inquired.
“They will accept treatment all right because they can afford it and the Commissioner has promised to make it mandatory for every employee under his jurisdiction to have missing teeth replaced and regularly examined. Those that fail to obey will be asked to find work elsewhere.”
“Is that not a bit dictatorial?” I asked.
“Not at all,” my father replied. “It will be money that is well spent and as you know, it will improve their health and also make them look better in the eyes of the ladies.”
I was not at all happy. There was not enough time to see and say farewell to my friends. I had recently managed to get a date with one of the best looking girls, who was the envy of all the boys. Marina kept everyone at arm’s length. She was fully aware of her potential; this gave her the advantage of spinning us around like toys. My ploy was not subtle. I promised to let my father make a special set of dentures free of charge for her grandmother if she agrees to come to the cinema with me. It may sound like a bribe, but I would do anything to get my arms around her even for an evening. She knew my intentions and warned me that I would not succeed in getting more than a goodnight kiss. Little did she realise that a kiss was beyond my expectations. The thought of having to forego such an offer was more than a young virulent young man can tolerate.
My father was a strict disciplinarian and a strong Catholic as was my mother. I was brought up in the same upstanding order but failed to recognise the importance of rigid religious teachings. I do believe in God and that is where my observance of religion ends. My parents realised this and tried to tolerate it. I thought of going to the reverend father for guidance but I knew he would only want to give me a sermon on life. I soon perished that thought and resigned myself to the destiny that awaited.
The next day we set off at 6 o’clock in the morning to board the steamer taking us across the Berbice River to Rosignol. Here, the men went like cattle for the Tavern to get their glass of rum before boarding the train for Georgetown. I wondered how one could drink a glass of rum so early in the morning. My father must have read my thoughts and explained that since it is a long and tiring journey the drink will relax them in a semi-sleep for most of the time and they will arrive refreshed and relaxed.
The smell of burning coal and steam from the engine was beginning to get me excited in an adventurous way. The thoughts I had before leaving home became something of the past. I had seen the train from across the river in New Amsterdam, but never this close. To actually smell the burning of coal and puffing steam sent me into a mesmerising world of fantasy. Suddenly, there was a sharp whistle from the engine and everyone went hurrying to find a seat. I took mine in the only first class carriage. Each carriage had a veranda, where passengers can stand to escape the heat. I went and stood on mine and as the train shunted its way, I entertained myself by watching the farmers tending their crops on either side of the track.
Our first stop was Fort Wellington then Belladrum, Abary and Mahaica. The names of these stations I had heard mentioned in conversations only; it sent a feeling of adventurous romanticism through me. Gripped by this euphoria, my thoughts went swirling back in time to the early days when Essequibo, Demerara and Berbice were three separate colonies. The Governor of Essequibo was in fact the Governor of the other two colonies. It was the time when the Dutch West India Company owned the whole of Guiana. The Van Peres applied to the government in Holland and got permission to prevent anyone other than themselves from trading in Berbice. They built a fort and named it Nassau, fifty miles up the Berbice River. The head of the family Abraham Van Peres sent men and boys to cultivate annatto, cotton, sugar cane, and ground provisions.
Since no women were sent, the men cohabited with the local tribes’ women and a new race of people began to emerge. When the British arrived, the Dutch was sent scurrying East across the Corentyne river to create a new colony, those who remained wanted to maintain their monopoly to trade. The British were not having this and drove them out to join their fellow countrymen. The three colonies were eventually merged into one country named British Guiana and the first Governor Sir Benjamin Durham of the newly formed country decided to make Georgetown the capital, where the seat of government was installed.
This decision had a devastating effect on New Amsterdam. The capital of the ancient country lost its appeal for traders and investors. My town was reduced to a municipality with an elected mayor and town clerk. The rest of the councillors were men drawn from the business and professional sectors. Eventually the town remained stagnant with the speeded rate of progress in the capital. I wondered what Georgetown would be, a vibrant or sleepy city. I could only wait to see for myself.
At Mahaica, it was mandatory for the train to wait for the incoming one from Georgetown, as it was a single track system, and again the men hurried to the bar for a top up. They were swearing and jostling as everyone wanted to be the first to get their drink. I heard someone shouting abuse at the bar man, one even cast doubts on his parentage. The poor chap ignored their insults and carried on at his leisurely pace. The women, on the other hand, streamed around several large black women selling fried fish and bread, a lot of hot pepper was added and they hurried back to their seats to enjoy their meal. It was sometime before the other train arrived. The two drivers waved at each other and exchanged batons as they passed signifying that the track is clear.
When we arrived at Georgetown, I was hoping that time would permit me to have a quick look around this big city. It was not to be, we had just enough time to get to the wharf to board the river boat for our final destination. Here, again it was total confusion, tempers f lared as everyone was trying to be first to board taking more baggage than they could carry. I ignored the confusion and followed my father up the steps to our seats. The boat itself was larger than I expected. The lower deck was packed with passengers and their cargoes. Our deck was a bit more comfortable. It had a bar and proper toilet facilities. There was also a look out cabin above, where the captain and his navigator stood ordering the boat’s departure.
My father went in the bar where the other men had gathered for their ritual of rum drinking. I, being only sixteen, stayed outside and watched with amusement at the monkeys on the other side of the river bank performing acrobatic feats in the trees and irritating each other with their shrieks. My father, on the other hand, was engaged in a serious conversation with Doctor Bristol, the man who slapped me. I tried not to let him notice me. He was quick to point out to my father that it was good I was able to accompany him on this trip. The business and professional passengers were joined by gold diggers and pork knockers; they are called pork knockers because all their supply of food in the bush was made up of salted beef and pickled pork. Their presence is not accepted or tolerated by men of higher standing. They knew this and kept their distance and drinking to themselves. Doctor Bristol tapped his glass on the counter and introduce my father to the men “Listen fellows, we have Doctor Joseph D’Abrue on board. He is a dentist from Berbice.” Before he could finish my father was surrounded by a mob who insisted on knowing when and where he will be practicing, and some wanted to make appointments straight away. Suddenly everyone seemed to have a dental problem. The commotion was so intense it brought the captain down from his perch.
“So you’re the dentist? The Commissioner Mathew Longhorn told us about you. I am Captain Danjou, everyone calls me Danny.” He stretched his hand out and briskly shook my father’s.
“How soon are you going to start your work?” “Right now,” the mob shouted.
“Look here chaps I can’t do any serious dentistry here I need to set my surgery up properly. The doctor can verify that.”
The men were not having any excuses. It was Doctor Bristol who interrupted by suggesting that some primary examination and assessment can be made to quieten the men. The captain suggested his observation room on the upper deck could be used for that purpose. It was then he proposed to have an assistant for my father, and he shouted at someone at the corner of the bar. “Bertie! I want you to go down in the lower deck and bring Manny here.”
“Up here captain?” Bertie asked. Realizing Manny to be a bit of a drinker and may not be in any shape or appearance to be introduced to gentlemen of the professional class.
“Of course up here, you moron,” the captain replied Bertie disappeared and half an hour later returned with Manny, he was a man of about thirty with dirty clothes and a strong smell of alcohol. Yet, there was a pair of eyes that exuded intelligence.
“Manny, go to the wash room and tidy yourself and make sure you wash your mouth with soap and come back here as swiftly as you can,” the captain ordered.
I left the area and went to amuse myself with the monkeys who were engaged in their daily rituals of irritating each other and at times engaged in serious fighting. I sat down for some relaxation. There was no one of my age to talk with, and the novelty of the monkeys’ antics soon wore off. I must have fallen asleep in the chair for a while, when I did wake up it was getting dark and I imagined it would not be long before we reach our destination. By the time, my father was in a serious mode of work; and he was by now doing extractions and even taking temporary impressions for dentures and Manny busily helping. The boat came to an acute bend in the river and started slowing down significantly until it came to a near stop. There were four men in a boat with a cow and were coming to the stern as they approached, the legs of the cow were tied with ropes and the ends were thrown to a group of men standing on the river boat’s stern, they began pulling the animal on board. When that feat was successful, the boat picked up speed and we were off again. From here on the boat picked up passengers whenever the occasion arose.
I went back to the make shift surgery to see my father still at it. He looked at Manny, exhausted and all red in the face his tired voice barely exclaimed “I’ve never seen such a devastating lack of dental hygiene in all my life!”
“It’s not so much the lack of dental hygiene, it’s the dam food these people eat, no vegetables in their diet, not even a lettuce leaf pass their mouths. It’s bound to have the devastation you spoke of. I guess that is why we professionals can make a decent living.” Doctor Bristol’s remark disturbed me a bit and I wondered why people should remain ignorant of the basic facts of healthy living. We were about to settle down for a snack and my father and the doctor were having a glass of rum for relaxation when the captain came in with a burly young man. He had enormous arms and his legs were like mahogany trees and his size did not hide the fact that he was a handsome man with a mischievous look in his eyes. There was vivid evidence that he was of mixed race.
“This is Benjamin Carson.” The captain said and looking at my father he explained. “Ben’s got a renegade wisdom tooth that has been giving him hell for some time; it is only his cowardly nature that’s stopping him from getting it out. I have made it my business to see it is taken out today and save myself a lot of embarrassing moments with his groaning and moaning.” He ended off with hysterical laughter, which seems to affect the others, as they started laughing in the same manner.
Manny closed the door behind me. Doctor Bristol and some of the men surrounded my father as he prepared for the extraction in the middle of the bar. I leaned against the railings of the boat feeling a bit bored. As a teenager, I was not allowed to enjoy grownups jokes that made me appear in their eyes as unmannerly. There was a sudden groan and a mighty thud as if someone had fallen from a great height. I rushed in the room in time to see Benjamin getting up and adjusting his clothing. He looked at the captain and then at me and said. “Ok! I will sit here, and you dentist can take your time to torture me” Then looking at me he winked and said. “You can stand there sonny and watch your uncle Ben being tortured.”
It soon became clear that I suddenly inherited an uncle. It was customary all young boys and girls must address older folks either as mister or mistress or on a more personal level as uncle or auntie and since Ben has decided that I call him uncle I felt honoured. True to his word he sat there as still as a monument during the operation. Without warning he let out an almighty roar. The tooth was out. Triumphantly he held it between his thumb and index finger and kissed it and started laughing like a school girl, his whole body gyrating.
“This calls for celebration gentlemen,” the captain announced. He produced a rarely seen bottle of malt whisky and a party began. It was getting dark when we f inally arrived at Wismar, which is on the west bank and then on to McKenzie on the other side. I felt sad leaving this boat, there was so much excitement and laughter that went on, it was difficult to imagine. I turned and looked at the boat as if to say goodbye. Still standing on the upper deck was Ben f lanked by the captain and Manny, and he looked like the Colossus of Rhodes.
The Commissioner of the hinterlands was a man of immense inf luence and power a secondary Governor in many ways. As a Commissioner, he was in total charge of all Amerindians affairs. He was also a judge and juror of all crimes committed against the Native inhabitants and a friend of my father for many years. I never had the opportunity of meeting him. He was waiting for us with his car and driver. Matthew Longhorn displayed all the characteristics of a military man. Swagger stick stuck under his arm, he swung around with military precision to greet my dad and at the same time giving me a casual glance. Ben and Manny soon joined us and they were instructed to take care of my father’s baggage and to get the equipment to the hospital as soon as possible. They were also told to get a boat to take us across the river to our lodgings.
My visit to this place was not exciting. It was an adult world. Children were allowed to get on with their lives as best as they could. This of course had a devastating effect on their moral and cultural behaviour. There were exceptions. Parents who took time to steer their children on the straight and narrow did not tolerate any mixing with the wayward. I did all I could to make life tolerable, which was difficult, nearly all the young men were only interested in playing dominoes and drinking beer, loitering around the market place for odd jobs and to tease the young unaccompanied ladies. There activities were of no interest to me at all. I longed for the six months to come to an end. Every day was the same routine; visiting the surgery and then the laboratory across the river. Manny seem to cope without my help and I was always willing to let him get on with it. He liked being alone. I sensed a bit of nervousness in him when I was around.
He was quick to give me the money collected and the appliances for my dad to fit at the surgery and I was equally eager to dash off to look for Ben. Sometimes Ben and I would visit the plant to see the bauxite unloading and the dust would make it difficult to recognise known faces.

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