9.11.2001, more from Guyana

Amy Myers, second from left, in Guyana

By Amy Myers

Guyana, 2001-2003
Nicaragua, 2003-2004

     I woke that morning and got ready for work. I was still getting used to the cold morning bucket bath that both took my breath away and all too briefly took the sweat off my skin.  I went to work early those first days at West Demerara Secondary School, as I was still getting my bearings. I always went first to open the library so kids could come in and read before school began each day.  After the school bell rang and morning assembly was over, I began a busy schedule teaching Spanish and Guidance.  

     At some point during the morning I remember my dear colleague, Miss Khan, coming and asking me if I had heard about the plane crash in New York, and if I knew if my family was ok.  While still new to Guyana, I had figured out that “New York” was synonymous with the entire U.S. for many Guyanese … so I guessed that some kind of plane crash in the States must have made the news.  I assured her that none of my family was traveling and that I was sure it was fine.

     I went on with my day. 

     Later, I was paged to the Headmistress’ office. A representative from Peace Corps was calling to check in. I remember being confused as to why a plane crash was getting so much response. I assured the staff that I was heading straight home after work and that I would make every effort to check in with family when I got home. There was an overwhelming newness to each day that first September in Guyana that I didn’t stop to think too much about how out of the ordinary that phone call was.  

    I went on with my day.

Guyana                                                   photo by Amy M

    I got home that afternoon and was swiftly whisked upstairs by my landlord, Odetta. She steered me to her small television and it was then that I finally got it. What was going on. Why all the fuss. I was horrified. I was stupefied. I sat for I don’t know how many hours glued to that tiny screen … catching up on the tragedy that the whole country had been experiencing for hours already.  

     I hadn’t understood earlier why Peace Corps asked me try to contact my family, but when I was able to tear myself away from the TV I had only one thought: I need to call my mom in Colorado. Her relief at hearing my voice was palpable over our sketchy phone connection. My comfort at hearing her voice was immeasurable. We wept together over the phone and after all too short a time said our good-byes and I love yous.  

     I went to my journal and wrote “Today I mourn. Though I am far, my heart aches. Today I mourn for and with my country.”