We are descending after an hour long flight into Georgetown Guyana at night. Kenny my photographer, with a little concern in his voice, asks, “Where are we staying?” My answer must have puzzled him, “I don’t know, I’ve heard of a hotel in Georgetown called, Pegasus…put that!” As normal, I am winging it and I had just organized a connection at the reservation to pick us up. We were told it was an hour drive to the village. Two hours later we swing off the highway. We are on a dirt road, which we later find out was only dug out a year ago. Another hour, I realize we are driving through a creek bed of hard white sand; a wake of water is splashing onto the banks. The first building appears, it is the police station, with only one police man. “The last police man had to go because he was getting drunk and troubling the women.” This is a logging and hunting community. Many of the men are away for weeks or months at a time. Beside the police station is the new “Sunset Bar,” maybe a bad combination? Wooden shacks elevated by stilts start to appear, randomly scattered on white sand, reflecting brightly in the full moonlight. There are no lights on, it’s mysteriously quiet and I feel as if we are the only people in the village.
We get the lowdown, there is only electricity from 6:00 pm to 10:00 pm, and our accommodation has no electricity. It’s very rustic and basic, a bed with a mosquito net and an outhouse for a bathroom. We are living above granny.
