One of the more endearing sights was while stuck in a rare traffic jam over Christmas, a guy on motor cycle was killed by a another car on a side street. Within seconds, someone ran and determined he was dead, and the mob striped him of all his clothing leaving him naked and bleeding to death; they did this in about 30-45 seconds. My teenaged boys visiting were quite amused by the spectacle. On numerous ocassions we observed someone on a bike ride by and snatch a phone form peoeple talking. In the Supermarkets, we never found canned goods less than 9 months expired but were assured by the Embassy they were safe after testing. Twice we went to Survival Market or the other big one, and saw the owners pouring Clorox out of the bottle and then watering it down and putting it back on the shelf.
How was my stay. My wife is still hobbled after numerous surveries after a cricket bat attack, and I had a spinal fusion after I took him down and we beat him with a rock crippling him - no embassy report filed though so I suspect the mission chief sicked his dog on me and I took him down.
When you can’t trust the American’s you know it’s bad.
My kids spend 13 of 18 years of their lifes overseas. They still talk about Guyana as the armpit of the earth. In my 22 years the only poverty I saw on par with Guyana was in the jungles of Panama on patrol.
My stay was like being a military recon mission. Head on a swivel checking my 6 at every moment. Even leaving the Embassy once out the gate it heads up.
Sounds like it needs to merge with Haiti.