Most mornings I take minibuses to work. Sadly, minibuses in Guyana do not have a cute name on par with the "tro-tros" of Ghana, or the "car rapides" of Senegal (which were anything but "rapide".)
Most of the time, passengers pass the ride without talking much, as the buses are filled with the sounds of reggae, sappy R&B, or Christian music, depending on the taste of the driver. This morning, however, my entire bus had a conversation about what was wrong with kids these days. Complaints (imagine them in a Caribbean accent) included:
1. They don't own their own houses. ("I'm on my pension now and I'm not paying nobody!"
2. They won't work long hours at low wage jobs. ("I was workin' every day for GYD200! Except Saturday and Sunday.")
3. They don't cook fresh food. ("They're just stickin' it in the microwave!")
4. Their clothing styles are scandalous. ("They walk down the street and their bottoms just hang!")
No mentions were made of walking a mile to school in snow, uphill both ways.
I have worked in economic policy and research in Washington, D.C. and Ghana. My husband and I recently moved to Guyana, where I am working for the Ministry of Finance. I like riding motorcycle, outdoor sports, foreign currencies, capybaras, and having opinions.