HARRY BISSOON

THE SANITY OF BEING INSANE Harry Bissoon  3/27/2023 I closely followed the behavioral patterns of a neighbor of mine in the 70's, who earned the classification of being the village 'character'. He was, for many people, including the village doctor, a 'mad man', who roamed the village streets, minding his own business.  He lived with his father in a peaceful setting, in a house surrounded by an expansive vegetable garden which was also abundant with fresh, sweet smelling flowers, reminiscent of an idyllic, pastoral enclave.  His name was Misir. He was my friend. He always sought me out, coming to my gate, eager to chat and talk about current events and things that were relevant to the village. There were times when he would fantasize, wrapped up in a world of euphoria. He would be lost in some other time zone, coming back to my presence when I called his name.  He would, almost every morning, stand at his gate, and wave to me as I rode by on my Raleigh bicycle, on my...

QUALITY OF LIFE AMIDST A BROKEN WINDOW SYNDROME Harry Bissoon  3/22/2023 I have spent over thirty-five years away from the warm embraces of my extended family in Guyana. Nonetheless, my regular visits,  since departing its well trodden soil, are filled with glimpses of a broken social fabric which has ruptured, and continues to be torn apart, by basic inefficiencies and lack of effective enforcement.  Economically, the nation, boosted into overdrive by its newfound oil splurge, seems well on the way to wealth and, hopefully, socio-economic  development with political stability. However, socially, it still seems as if there is a conundrum of misplaced values within the parameters of the social structure, leaving much to be desired. The culture of loud music in public residential spaces, stretches to the extremes on the decibel spectrum to ear ringing ranges, and when it doesn't, the continuous pounding of bass, the piercing strumming of strings, and the screaming voca...

THE FULLNESS OF LIFE Harry Bissoon 3/10/2923 This afternoon I was given a free lesson in yoga. It was not of my asking but it was as a result of my approval to participate in a research on Caregivers to cancer patients. I had done some yoga before, several years ago when I was a student of an esoteric organization, so basic breathing exercises, to isolate and follow my breath was not new to me. But when the researcher gave me a single raisin to hold in my hand I was amazed at what followed. She told me, with invigorating enthusiasm, to look at it, seeing only the raisin, and nothing else in the room. I like raisins. I eat them all the time, but it was the first time I had really seen a raisin so close. So close that it invaded my mindfulness. I heard her telling me, from afar it seemed, to share my thoughts and observations with her! The setting is in a hospital where I am a Caregiver, and, like my mindfulness of the raisin, my mind wanders to the patients who come and go for treatment...

FIRERASS Harry Bissoon 3/03/2023 This blog is written in Guyanese creole.  It was not her fault that she missed the bus! Neighba Mabel was up early that damp, gloomy morning because she had to get the 2 o'clock bus to New Amsterdam stelling. She made this trip occasionally to  visit her husband's sick parents in Georgetown. Getting the 4:30am Berbice river ferry at New Amsterdam always got her to town early in the morning, so that she could get back home in the evening.  However, she missed the bus and had to cancel her trip! It was the 'Ole Higue's fault, she told the village people, when they saw her the next day, angry, frustrated, and definitely showing signs of a sleepless night! She neighba, Mabel proclaimed, was an 'Ole Higue who was always ruction to her and some ah she close friends. She swear to Gawd dat she neighba swing by her and fly past she face, in ball of fire, on that cold, chilly mawning, as she was waiting on the road parapet for the bus. She had...