Rainforest Roots

After a quick return from beautiful Kaieteur to our lodging in Georgetown we boarded a flight early the next morning for the remote NW region of Guyana known as Mabaruma. The area consists of a few small towns cut into the wild hills of the rainforest.

What drew us to this little traveled destination? Ben's grandfather and his family had worked these hills as owner's of a citrus plantation and Ben's mother was subsequently born at the local hospital. While the family did not linger long in the area after the birth of their young daughter, the stories told from this time period developed a curiosity that needed to be fulfilled.

Although the journey arose from a desire to seek the family roots, a stay in Mabaruma is highly recommended to all. The surrounding valleys are absolutely spectacular, filled with much bird life and the people of the area could not have been more friendly and welcoming. We were two of very few foreigners and quite obviously were new to the area. In fact we discovered near the end of our stay that a rumour had been spreading that two Jehovah's Witnesses were scouring the hills in search of new converts. I guess that's what straw hat style will do for you...

Our search for the story of the Samson family roots was wildly successful. We started with a distant family connection now aged 67 who pointed us to even older people who might have knowledge and memory from those days. As Ben's grandfather is now 100 years old, finding people from that era would be unlikely indeed! However, we did find two local Amerindians who had actually worked the plantation and were able to provide colourful accounts of days gone by. One individual was a spry and bright lady of 92 years whose marriage to her childhood sweetheart, the foreman of the plantation, was made possible by the Samson family. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she recounted her tale.

We set off to walk the former Samson plantation land. Many changes had taken place since the departure of the Samson family some 50 years ago. The old structures were no longer and the the jungle had rapidly overgrown all of the formerly productive land. The only trace of human activity was an old fence discovered on our walk through the overgrown bush trails.

We spent the remainder of our time walking the hills between the local towns, swimming at Hosororo Falls and a local bridge, sipping beers at the nearby port town and climbing coconut trees each afternoon to acquire our favourite refreshing patio drink.