We landed in the Trinidad-Tobago airport at6am, went through customs and got our bags. We were getting ready to settle in for our 10 hour layover, however, turned into 13. We found a quiet place in the airport and most of us slept on the floor (comfier than you would think!). We also found a table which made for a pretty nice lecture hall. Our lecture this day was from Dr. Patti Tracey, on Non-communicable and communicable diseases, morbidity and mortality. We discussed how to tell community health, by looking at maternal-fetal mortality.

We got some food in the airport, which had amazing pastries! We also did some shopping and got snacks for the plane. We got supper to go from a place called Heroies. We finally boarded at 7, and landed in Georgetown at around 8. We then had an hour drive to our hotel. We got our rooms, which were beautiful. I think most of us were dreaming of this moment all day, so as soon as we got into our rooms we were all passed out. It was a great experience and awesome to meet and get to connect further with our team members and professors on this trip.

We had already hit the 8-hour mark, and the journey was still ongoing. Fortunately, we had a great source of entertainment from DJ Dr. Patti. During the bus ride we learnt quite a bit about each other through our diverse musical taste. Suddenly, 7 hours turned into 10 hours, and we made it to the Kurupukari river crossing, just in time with about 25 minutes to spare. It was quite the relief to be out of the van and absorb the beauty of the sunset on the Essequibo River. We had now travelled by air, land and water to get to this point.

An hour and a half left to go to finally be in Surama (or so we were told). It gets dark in Guyana by 6:00 PM, so now were travelling in the pitch-black rainforests of Guyana. Along the way we saw a fairly huge caiman and snakes (Guyana has a lot of snakes!). At this point, we were all tired, butts were cramping and having to use nature’s toilet was quite the experience for some of us. It seemed the further we travelled; the further away Surama was- like a dog chasing its tail. To top it off, we finally got to Surama village and thought we were on the wrong trail. Thankfully, we had a great driver in Robert who navigated a pretty tough terrain and brought us safely to the Surama Eco Lodge (Thanks Robert!). We finally got to Surama Eco Lodge to have dinner, the tables were quiet, maybe it was because we were too tired to speak  or maybe it suddenly dawned upon us that our journey had just begun.

Breakfast was a treat: red bananas, a native forest species, made a memorable debut on our plates. Afterwards, we had the privilege of meeting the village leaders and elders, who welcomed us warmly and shared insights about Surama’s rich heritage.

Following a nutritious lunch, we visited the farm of Mr. Michael Allicock, a respected Makushi elder, and his wife. Their farm is a testament to sustainable agriculture and resilience. After a forest fire, Mr. Allicock repurposed the land, taking advantage of its strategic location in a mountain valley, rich in nutrients and water. Here, he cultivates a diverse array of crops, bitter and sweet cassava, peppers, bananas, plantains, corn, citrus fruits, herbs, and sweet potatoes. Instead of monocropping, he grows these together, supporting biodiversity and maintaining soil health. The natural drainage from the surrounding mountains provides irrigation, and much of the harvest supports the local community, ensuring families in Surama and neighbouring villages have access to essential foods.

Mr. Allicock also grows different banana species to preserve crop diversity. One variety, the sour fig banana, is especially valued for its lower glycaemic index, making it a better choice for people with diabetes. He shared the fascinating process of making paracari, a traditional drink from fermented bitter cassava.

We discussed with him the benefits of the farm’s location near the road, which improves accessibility and transportation of crops. It became clear that the farm is more than just a food source; it’s a vital safeguard for plant diversity, with every activity carried out to sustain future generations. Mr. Allicock is already training his grandchildren to continue this legacy, ensuring the community’s steady, healthy food supply endures.

Before leaving, we enjoyed a refreshing glass of lime water, locally known as “swank,” and expressed our gratitude to our hosts.

That evening, after dinner, we delved into discussions about Keynesian and village economics, followed by a bonding session where we learned more about each other. The day left us with new knowledge and a deeper appreciation for community, sustainability, and the interconnectedness of people and the land.

We all woke up, and the first person we saw—before even saying good morning—triggered spontaneous laughter as we recalled the “symphony of snoring” that played in the background all night, we all slept in a hammock in the jungle the night before and today highlights resilience and how humans can develop their surviving skills and co-exist respectfully with nature: food cooked with passion and patience on fire, fish caught from the river by our guides, lemon grass tea from the jungle, our shower was in the river just to refresh, going in pairs the system and the rhythm we created there as a community relying on natural resources is fascinating. We all slept under the caravan roof but open without walls allowing the flow of fresh air. Seeing the spider monkeys playing when we were laying down on the hammock.

During the night our noses were stuffy, trees were crashing down from the storm, thunder and lightning raged, and rain poured relentlessly in the rain camp. At exactly 6 a.m., as if summoned by the rhythm of the forest, the howler monkeys began their morning ritual—call it a prayer, a gathering, or simply their wake-up call. Whatever it was, that sound stirred something deep. It wasn’t just noise—it was reverence. It made you feel the spirit of the jungle.  It struck awe and fear in equal measure. You begin to respect the forest and its creatures—how they live, how they communicate, how they protect their home. Just like Sydney said, “We are only visitors here.” We have a responsibility to keep quiet, to tread lightly, to know ourselves better through stillness and solitude, through listening to nature—and to our own inner voice.

What we learned is that the jungle is not an easy place and its not a safari but it’s a place to learn how to survive sustainably and connect to your roots and your essence by listen carefully to the voices around you, to the voices of other creatures that has been here for hundred of years and own this place. Things can happen in a second, you have to trust each other and you have to follow the instructions of your elders (tour guides ) because they know every step in this jungle and are well aware that if you got distracted for seconds the possibility to get hurt is high, so we have to keep and use all our sensation and stay proactive to protect ourself from any unexpected danger that jungle has. Sydney taught us that one of the most valuable things to practice and accept is flexibility and adaptability. In the jungle, things can go wrong and we need to change plans or even take step back and discuss as a group what is the best decision to make and prioritize the safety of our community and there is no shame or wrong with stepping back and make the right decision for your survival. Our professors emphasized the same thing: “Resilience is your ability to adapt to changes, especially the unexpected ones”. What a valuable lesson that we would never forget as our world now is going through immense wars and conflict that so many people are facing their destiny of their life in a moment of war, so we found that lesson valuable for our humanity how to function as group and think of each other’s needs and how to accommodate them to co-exist and survive.

We examined how governance across distance depends not just on logistics, but on shared cultural values and motivation systems—both positive (financial rewards) and negative (shame, withdrawal).

We reflected on what drives people to act selflessly. Is it responsibility? Emotional connection? Or cultural duty? Sustainability isn’t just ecological—it’s deeply human.

Before this experience, I saw sustainability through a policy and environmental lens. But the field immersion changed that. Through conversation with locals, I began to understand sustainability as relational by ancestral knowledge, hardship, reciprocity, and care and we must take the responsibility to reserve. 

A student from another major introduced the concept of “collective sensory bond”—the idea that people help just out of a “collective sensory bond, connectedness. It reminded me of that quiet couple at camp: always nearby, helping, without asking for credit. These little details carry so much meaning.

On the journey back from Rain Camp to Surama Village—three to four hours gliding through the journey, I found myself thinking, “It’s just a river.” But that thought didn’t last. Our boat got stuck often—giant broken branches and I remembered what Sydney said: “This land does not belong to us, that river has memory”. It has witnessed tribal battles. It has taken lives ,It holds traditions and trauma in equal weight. It is not a backdrop—it is alive. That realization changed me.

We passed birds flying in pairs—just like we had paired up at camp. There’s safety in companionship. We spotted spider monkeys too—playful, mischievous. They watched us, we watched them. We held our respectful distance. Mutual curiosity without intrusion. That’s co-existence.

Later that evening, at Caraha Camp we learned the value of storytelling and how it shapes the human narratives about nature and sustainability and how languages play a big role in finding the words to describe your connection to nature. Elder Sydney shared stories: how Surama got its name, the myth of the forest barbecue and the battles that dyed the river red. Each narrative was a gift –Traditional Ecological Knowledge was a gift passed down not just to preserve culture, but to teach survival and balance.

That night, I realized something fundamental: Unity is fundamental. Unity is not optional. In remote communities it is not optional; no one can face vulnerability alone. Resilience is collective and there’s no singular answer to the question: Do we sacrifice the environment for individual survival, or protect it to sustain the community?

But one thing is clear, our hope as Trent students is to keep the conversation alive to partner with this community. To listen, learn, and co-create solutions that honor both human need and ecological wisdom.

We set out at 11 a.m., piling into the back of a tractor for a bumpy, laughter-filled ride to the river. Once we reached the landing, we split into two groups and boarded our boats, ready for a three- to four-hour journey into the heart of the jungle. The river was filled with life, and navigating its winding path was unlike anything I’d experienced before. We had to stay alert, dodging fallen trees and low-hanging branches that sometimes made the river nearly impassable, and occasionally threatened to smack us in the face. It was all part of the adventure!

Along the way, we spotted elegant herons in their natural habitat and vibrant macaw families, always flying in pairs. Watching them made me pause and reflect on how much we rely on each other to thrive. We stopped for lunch at a landing conveniently located across from the famous harpy eagle’s nest. We’d heard so much about this majestic bird that seeing it felt almost unreal. One of our guides played a recording of a harpy eagle call, and, to our delight, the eagle returned to its nest, giving us a rare, up-close look.

After lunch, we pressed on toward the rain camp, just about an hour to go. Near the end, one of the boats got stuck on a massive fallen tree, and our guides had to hop out and push us free. It was a far cry from anything you’d see back home in Canada; it’s not every day you encounter a whole tree blocking a river.

At last, we arrived! The rain camp was nothing like I’d imagined, it far exceeded my expectations. A landing with stairs led up to an open field and a shed-like shelter. The guides got to work hanging our hammocks, which we’d be sleeping in for the night, a new experience for most of us. It was fascinating to watch their expert knot-tying and the way they secured mosquito nets overhead.

The afternoon was spent bonding with the guides and fellow travelers, chatting and playing card games, especially a lively round of President (let’s just say some of us were more skilled than others… cough cough Shavesh).

After a delicious dinner prepared by the guides, we gathered for an inspiring talk by Sydney Allicock, a respected elder and former vice president of Guyana. He shared stories of the rain camp’s history and its vital role in sustainability and survival. Sydney emphasized that understanding the environment is crucial, especially since rainfall determines whether the river is navigable enough to reach the camp, during the dry season, getting here can be quite a challenge. He also spoke about the medicinal wonders of the jungle, demonstrating how even a poisonous bark can be transformed into a healing paste for snake bites. This was very interesting to hear as a nursing student because in school we are taught more about the pharmaceuticals and to hear that nature has its own remedies is something we aren’t often taught.

Sydney’s insights into the jungle and the rain camp were captivating. As night fell, we curled up in our hammocks, lulled to sleep by the sound of rain and the occasional snore. The day was filled with unforgettable memories, new experiences, fresh knowledge, and budding friendships.

Aunty Paulette and Uncle Dan talked about a shift in women’s roles. When they were first married, she wasn’t allowed to advocate for herself, she was unable to leave the household, and her roles did not extend past being a housewife and mother. Not until she went to Uncle Dan and told him she needed a larger role. That’s when gender norms began to change. He didn’t accept this at first, but it took some time for him to understand and convince others.

Notably, maintaining values in a community like Surama is integral to their survival. Aunty Paulette strayed from these seemingly “fixed” values because she believed women were able to offer more than was expected of them. The result of this empowerment leads to more females in positions of power/ leadership, more opportunities for environmental stewardship, widespread conservation, culture, environment, etc.

So, we contemplated a few things:

1.     How does the shrinking workforce, as it pertains to farming, impact sustainability?

2.     Aunty Paulette employs people to work on her farm when she needs it, but the labour she would normally have readily available is no longer a reliable option. In the context of tradition and community engagement, how is sustainability changed?

3.     Is preserving the farm more dire than community engagement? What happens when mobilization overtakes tradition in the name of preservation or progress?

4.     Does sustainability mean value systems should not be subject to change?

5.     Is sustainability inherently static?

6.     Is it negative when our value systems change?

7.     Considering that Aunty Paulette, by enabling women to rely less on their husbands and more on the community, has led to immense positive change, is this still sustainability?

After this visit, we went to see how cassava products like farine, starch, and bread are prepared using traditional methods, as well as how the juice of bitter cassava is used to prepare cassareep. Four women were there, shaving cassava skin, washing the cassava, grating it, squeezing out the cyanide using a “matapee,” making cassava bread, and toasting farine. This caused us to pause and question:

1.     How will the factory take away this human collaborative element of the process? It may be more efficient, sanitary, and safe, but what does it mean for the loss of tradition?

2.     How do we ensure culture remains sustainable in a static environment?

The cassava used for this activity came from different species. The farmers share different cassava sticks with each other to ensure their survival and species diversity, showing once again that they achieve resiliency and conservation by working together.

Indigenous villages like Surama follow a unique system of governance that differs from the national model. Surama is a sub-village within a larger administrative area known as Annai, which includes five villages: Annai Central, Wowetta, Kwatamang, Rupertee, and Surama. These villages fall under the Annai Village Council, which is led by a Toshao (village chief). The council also includes a Deputy Toshao, Secretary, Treasurer, Assistant Secretary/Treasurer, and five additional committee members. In Surama, the village is governed by its own village council, which is led by a Senior Councilor. The council also includes a Deputy Senior Councilor, Secretary, Treasurer, and three additional councilors.

Each council member is assigned a specific area of responsibility, such as infrastructure, governance, welfare, agriculture, environmental health, wildlife, education, religion, tourism, sports, carpentry, and culture. The inclusion of environmental health and wildlife as key focus areas highlights the village’s strong commitment to sustainability. A council of elders was also formed to strengthen the governance of the village, their traditional cultural and ecological knowledge is integral to the village’s mission of remaining environmentally sustainable.

The economic principles guiding the village are notably distinct. Instead of adhering to conventional macroeconomic models such as the Keynesian model  that prioritizes monetary gain, the village operates on a more people-centered economy that emphasizes community well-being and shared responsibility. The village benefits from funding through the Low Carbon Development Strategy (LCDS), an initiative pioneered by former President of Guyana and honorary Trent University doctorate recipient, Dr. Bharrat Jagdeo. The LCDS is a national framework that aims to promote sustainable economic development while preserving Guyana’s vast forest cover, which plays a critical role in global climate regulation. Surama, through its village council have managed to utilize this funds from this program to establish a successful microcredit fund which issues collateral-free loans to residents for personal and infrastructural development, similar to the Nobel-prize winning Grameen bank initiative.

The councilors also shared future plans for establishing a cassava processing facility. The model they have developed is inclusive, allowing all community members to participate by cultivating between half an acre to one acre of cassava, which they will supply to the facility and benefit from collectively. Additionally, plans are underway to establish a cooperative society to support and manage this initiative.

In any community, the interplay of economics, culture, environmental health, and the general welfare of residents can be challenging to balance. Surama has developed a model that seeks to harmonize these elements by promoting inclusive governance, sustainable livelihoods, cultural preservation, and environmental stewardship all rooted in community participation and shared responsibility.

We are grateful for the valuable insights shared by the council. Mr. Sydney Allicock, former Vice President of Guyana, was especially generous with his time and knowledge, patiently guiding us and offering a wealth of wisdom.

When the course began, we questioned how students from such varied disciplines could collaborate effectively and tackle complex challenges. Today made the answer clear: true progress demands an inclusive mindset that weaves together health, environmental stewardship, and long-term sustainability, turning a collection of individuals into a purposeful community.

Morning Discoveries Amid the Rain

Though morning rain initially delayed our birding expedition, nature soon rewarded our patience. Right near the lodge, we were treated to the spectacular sight of red and green macaws, their vibrant plumage cutting through the misty air with a channel-billed toucan making its presence known, alongside them. And the cheerful yellow-bellied elaenia flew back and forth between trees, probably seeking its breakfast. These small treasures reminded us why we'd risen before dawn.

As our journey commenced through the vast Savannah, the bird sightings multiplied. The blue-throated piping guan gracefully perched among the trees, while a particularly special encounter awaited us: the green-tailed jacamar, a charming emerald-green endemic species. Our wildlife encounters extended beyond birds as we observed a family of spider monkeys, mother and baby moving together through the trees, and howler monkeys whose calls always echo through the forest. An ornate hawk eagle soared overhead while a black caracara completed our impressive morning roster.

A Profound Lesson from Nature's Smallest Teacher

The forest path revealed treasures beyond avian life, rich with ornamental and medicinal plant species that have sustained local communities for generations. It was here that Najah encountered her first mimosa plant, what Guyanese locals call "sleep and wake", and her childlike wonder illuminated something profound about our relationship with nature.

Her reflection captured a universal truth: "I encountered this plant for the first time and was amazed to see her shy response, closing defensively. It reminded me of how humans behave similarly when hurt, abused, or taken advantage of; especially sensitive people develop protective instincts and withdraw to avoid potential harm. When I touched her, she seemed to sleep or hide, perhaps wishing to become invisible so no one would notice her value and decide to uproot her from her natural home. Does my touch truly harm this gentle plant? Do we as humans ever consider our impact on nature, particularly plants? I believe we should be more mindful, as I am learning to be now."

This moment of connection reminded me how much we often take for granted and how nature continues to teach us about ourselves, if we're willing to listen with open hearts.

Community-Based Conservation in Action

Our birding experience revealed a powerful model of sustainable development that deserves wider recognition. Surama's eco-tourism represents more than just wildlife watching; it embodies a community-driven approach where economic benefits flow directly to local residents while preserving both cultural authenticity and environmental stewardship.

What makes Surama's birding program truly exceptional is its complete community ownership and management. Every tour is owned, managed, and operated solely by village residents, ensuring that tourism dollars support local livelihoods while allowing families to remain in their ancestral territories. The village Wildlife Club plays a crucial role in this ecosystem, educating youth about conservation principles and creating the next generation of environmental stewards.

This model demonstrates that sustainable development and environmental protection aren't competing priorities; they can flourish together when communities are empowered to lead.

The Broader Impact of Birding Tourism

The economic potential of birding extends far beyond Guyana's borders, representing a significant and growing sector of nature-based tourism. In Alaska, for example, nearly 300,000 birdwatchers visited in 2016, contributing approximately $378 million to the local economy and supporting around 4,000 jobs [2]. These numbers illustrate how wildlife observation can become a cornerstone of sustainable economic development.

Beyond economic benefits, birding offers profound mental health advantages that make it particularly valuable in our increasingly stressful world. Research highlighted in Time magazine reveals that birdwatching significantly improves mental wellbeing, with studies showing that simply seeing or hearing birds can enhance people's mental health for up to eight hours. The activity effectively reduces depression, anxiety, and stress while boosting positive emotions and self-esteem [3].

Perhaps equally important is the sense of community that emerges from shared birding experiences, the quiet camaraderie of fellow enthusiasts, the collective excitement of a rare sighting, and the mutual respect for the natural world that binds birdwatchers together across cultural and geographic boundaries.

Lessons for Living in Harmony

Our day at Surama reinforced a fundamental truth about our place in the world: we are all part of a grand, interconnected community where every species, every plant, every person contributes something valuable to the whole. The morning's experiences, from the majesty of soaring macaws to the humble wisdom of a sensitive plant, reminded us that true prosperity comes not from exploitation but from harmony, respect, and genuine appreciation for what each member of our natural community brings to the table.

In watching the Surama community thrive through their relationship with the forest, we witnessed a blueprint for how humans can live sustainably while honouring both their cultural heritage and the natural world that sustains them. It's a lesson that extends far beyond birding, offering hope for how we might all learn to thrive together in the grand community of life.

Sources

1. https://suramaecolodge.com/wildlife-birding/

2. Schwoerer T, Dawson NG. Small sight-Big might: Economic impact of bird tourism shows opportunities for rural communities and biodiversity conservation. PLoS One. 2022 Jul 6;17(7):e0268594. doi: 10.1371/journal.pone.0268594. PMID: 35793337; PMCID: PMC9258859.

3. https://time.com/6231886/birdwatching-mental-health/

We all woke up, and the first person we saw—before even saying good morning—triggered spontaneous laughter as we recalled the “symphony of snoring” that played in the background all night, we all slept in a hammock in the jungle the night before and today highlights resilience and how humans can develop their surviving skills and co-exist respectfully with nature: food cooked with passion and patience on fire, fish caught from the river by our guides, lemon grass tea from the jungle, our shower was in the river just to refresh, going in pairs the system and the rhythm we created there as a community relying on natural resources is fascinating. We all slept under the caravan roof but open without walls allowing the flow of fresh air. Seeing the spider monkeys playing when we were laying down on the hammock.

During the night our noses were stuffy, trees were crashing down from the storm, thunder and lightning raged, and rain poured relentlessly in the rain camp. At exactly 6 a.m., as if summoned by the rhythm of the forest, the howler monkeys began their morning ritual—call it a prayer, a gathering, or simply their wake-up call. Whatever it was, that sound stirred something deep. It wasn’t just noise—it was reverence. It made you feel the spirit of the jungle.  It struck awe and fear in equal measure. You begin to respect the forest and its creatures—how they live, how they communicate, how they protect their home. Just like Sydney said, “We are only visitors here.” We have a responsibility to keep quiet, to tread lightly, to know ourselves better through stillness and solitude, through listening to nature—and to our own inner voice.

What we learned is that the jungle is not an easy place and its not a safari but it’s a place to learn how to survive sustainably and connect to your roots and your essence by listen carefully to the voices around you, to the voices of other creatures that has been here for hundred of years and own this place. Things can happen in a second, you have to trust each other and you have to follow the instructions of your elders (tour guides ) because they know every step in this jungle and are well aware that if you got distracted for seconds the possibility to get hurt is high, so we have to keep and use all our sensation and stay proactive to protect ourself from any unexpected danger that jungle has. Sydney taught us that one of the most valuable things to practice and accept is flexibility and adaptability. In the jungle, things can go wrong and we need to change plans or even take step back and discuss as a group what is the best decision to make and prioritize the safety of our community and there is no shame or wrong with stepping back and make the right decision for your survival. Our professors emphasized the same thing: “Resilience is your ability to adapt to changes, especially the unexpected ones”. What a valuable lesson that we would never forget as our world now is going through immense wars and conflict that so many people are facing their destiny of their life in a moment of war, so we found that lesson valuable for our humanity how to function as group and think of each other’s needs and how to accommodate them to co-exist and survive.

We examined how governance across distance depends not just on logistics, but on shared cultural values and motivation systems—both positive (financial rewards) and negative (shame, withdrawal).

We reflected on what drives people to act selflessly. Is it responsibility? Emotional connection? Or cultural duty? Sustainability isn’t just ecological—it’s deeply human.

Before this experience, I saw sustainability through a policy and environmental lens. But the field immersion changed that. Through conversation with locals, I began to understand sustainability as relational by ancestral knowledge, hardship, reciprocity, and care and we must take the responsibility to reserve. 

A student from another major introduced the concept of “collective sensory bond”—the idea that people help just out of a “collective sensory bond, connectedness. It reminded me of that quiet couple at camp: always nearby, helping, without asking for credit. These little details carry so much meaning.

On the journey back from Rain Camp to Surama Village—three to four hours gliding through the journey, I found myself thinking, “It’s just a river.” But that thought didn’t last. Our boat got stuck often—giant broken branches and I remembered what Sydney said: “This land does not belong to us, that river has memory”. It has witnessed tribal battles. It has taken lives ,It holds traditions and trauma in equal weight. It is not a backdrop—it is alive. That realization changed me.

We passed birds flying in pairs—just like we had paired up at camp. There’s safety in companionship. We spotted spider monkeys too—playful, mischievous. They watched us, we watched them. We held our respectful distance. Mutual curiosity without intrusion. That’s co-existence.

Later that evening, at Caraha Camp we learned the value of storytelling and how it shapes the human narratives about nature and sustainability and how languages play a big role in finding the words to describe your connection to nature. Elder Sydney shared stories: how Surama got its name, the myth of the forest barbecue and the battles that dyed the river red. Each narrative was a gift –Traditional Ecological Knowledge was a gift passed down not just to preserve culture, but to teach survival and balance.

That night, I realized something fundamental: Unity is fundamental. Unity is not optional. In remote communities it is not optional; no one can face vulnerability alone. Resilience is collective and there’s no singular answer to the question: Do we sacrifice the environment for individual survival, or protect it to sustain the community?

But one thing is clear, our hope as Trent students is to keep the conversation alive to partner with this community. To listen, learn, and co-create solutions that honor both human need and ecological wisdom.

 As we continued to trek higher into the mountains, we were in awestruck at the mountain’s incredible biodiversity. Hundreds of species of trees stood alongside vibrant fungi in a rich tapestry of life. The forest echoed with the call of the screaming piha (Lipaugus vociferans) and the howler monkeys (Aloutta). On our journey up, we also passed by many streams and waterfalls that run through the mountain. Finally, after contending with the steep incline and humidity of the mountain, we made it to our destination at the lookout point. Overlooking the entire village, we were amazed as the vastness of the savannahs and forests surrounding the village. The stunning view from above far outweighed the challenges of the journey to get to this point.

Our tour guide explained the vital role the mountain plays in the lives of the residents in the nearby village of Surama. Once a hunting ground, the mountain is now preserved for ecotourism. The community has shifted from their traditional hunting in this mountain to conservation-based tourism, helping to protect the environment, while also supporting their economy. In our lecture on biodiversity, we had learnt that one of the better strategies is protecting entire habitats as opposed to focusing on single species. We were happy to see that Surama had taken this approach, while still finding a way to aid their economy.

Absorbing the view, we sat and shared our perspectives and thoughts on the journey itself and on the topic of conservational biodiversity. We reflected on some of our experiences, for example how the mountain ranges in the Banff area in Alberta, Canada plays a major role in ecotourism, but also faces challenges with overtourism, leading to detrimental environmental impacts and strains on the local community.  Surama is on the verge of change, with a new road incoming, access to the Surama village may increase and likely tourism. Taking this into consideration, we then discussed possible steps Surama may take, in conjunction with what they are already doing to preserve their biodiversity and prevent similar problems that are occurring in the Banff area. Some of the suggestions were seasonal tourism to prevent to prevent overtourism, maintaining the natural landscape to attract daring adventurers and designing educational tours for people passionate about environmental and sustainability enthusiasts, much like this course.

In the evening, we took a tour around the village to learn more about the history of Surama. Our tour started at the village office, where we learnt about the governance system of the village. The governance of the village differs slightly from the national governance. The village council addresses key sectors such as health, education, environment, religion, sports, tourism, business and culture. Each member of the council is responsible for different sectors. Ultimately, the village is led by their chief (toshao), but decisions are often made through a vote of majority at council meetings. Importantly, there is also a council of elders with whom the village consults before decisions are made.

We then visited the first eco-lodge constructed in Surama in 1988. It was interesting to see how far the village has come in ecotourism and how they have managed to still keep their environment and biodiversity intact. We later visited the schools, where we saw that a great emphasis is placed on the environment and sustainability, even to students at the nursery level (ages 5-7). Our trip ended with a visit to the only church in the village, where we were told more interesting stories about the history of the village. The day had majestically ended with another golden sunset behind the mountains. It was truly a day of learning, we were most impressed that at every aspect of the lives of the people of Surama, exists themes of environmental protection and sustainability-something we should all try to emulate in our own lives.

We finally made it to the Bina Hill Institute (BHI), where we were warmly welcomed by the students, tutors, and the principal. The idea for the institute was developed by Mr. Sydney Allicock, a name that has become quite common to us in the passage of this field course. His vision was to create a space for youths of the North Rupununi to access greater educational opportunities, but at the same time, be encouraged to preserve their environment and culture.

Initially launched in 2007 as the Youth Learning Center, the now Bina Hill Institute has grown into a remarkable success story. Today, it brings together Indigenous students from nearly all ten administrative regions of Guyana. The institute offers a diverse and hands-on curriculum that spans subjects such as: agriculture and farming, tourism, forestry, natural resource management, information technology, culture and language, as well as craft and garment construction. During our visit, we saw firsthand how students with different interests and areas of focus come together on a shared platform, working toward sustainable livelihoods, much like what we aim to do in this field course. Notably, all students are required to take both agriculture and farming as well as the culture and language courses. This approach helps keep young people interested in agriculture and farming, fields that are often central to the economy of many Indigenous villages across Guyana. It also helps preserve cultural knowledge and keeps Indigenous languages and traditions alive. We were fortunate to witness firsthand how their culture and language is kept alive through beautiful performances by the students, including traditional songs in the Makushi language and expressive cultural dances. The students also shared a fun and light-hearted moment with us by teaching us one of their traditional dances. Some of us picked it up quickly, while others took a bit more time to find their rhythm, but regardless of skill, it was a joyful and welcoming experience that brought everyone together.

In addition to classroom learning, students at the Bina Hill Institute also gain hands-on experience through practical sessions and internships. These opportunities take place at ecotourism sites, like Surama Ecolodge and conservation centers. Many students, after completing their internships, go on to launch their own ecotourism ventures, work as tour guides, or secure roles at conservation centers as forest officers and environmental stewards. This is a commendable initiative, especially in an era where modern technology and urbanization often draw young people away from their communities in search of new opportunities. By offering practical training and meaningful career pathways rooted in ecotourism and conservation, the Bina Hill Institute not only equips students with valuable skills but also encourages them to stay and contribute to the development of their local communities. It strikes a thoughtful balance, empowering youths while promoting environmental stewardship and preserving their cultural heritage.

Later, we met up with Mr. Mike Williams, who introduced us to the concept of the North Rupununi District Development Board (NRDDB). The NRDDB is an organization that was established in 1996, comprising of village leaders, youths and other community representatives. Its goal is to strengthen connections between Indigenous communities of North Rupununi, government agencies and conservation groups. The board plays a key role in the planning, coordinating and execution of government and conservation programs, ensuring local communities have a strong voice in decision-making processes.

Mr. Williams also happens to be a radio announcer for Guyana’s first community radio station, PAIWOMAK, which broadcasts to communities along the Pakaraima, Iwokrama and Makarapan mountain ranges. We were given the opportunity to speak on a segment of a radio program hosted by Mr. Williams where we talked about fields of study at Trent University and lessons we have learnt on the field course thus far. We have indeed learnt a lot and today was another great day of learning and interaction.

It was empowering to us as students ourselves to witness how education can serve as a powerful tool to promote sustainable livelihoods and preserve cultural identity. What stood out the most was the clear demonstration that achieving these goals requires a multidisciplinary effort, blending knowledge from agriculture, technology, culture and beyond. It reminded us that sustainability is not the work of a single discipline but a shared responsibility that thrives through collaboration across fields.

They were so gracious enough to let us stay and have their microscopist, Abigail, show us inside their health post. She showed us the different rooms and supplies they have. It was mesmerizing. For me as a nursing student, seeing the amount of prevention they had, whether that was for mental, physical, or sexual health, they had it covered. Comparing it to our health mindset back home, they were much more focused on preventing disease before it happened. Something I plan to take to my practice as a nurse back home in Canada.

Abigail also showed us the stuffed animals she makes for the children. We (or at least I) fell in love with them. They were so perfectly crafted with love and care. We offered her money to take one home, but her commitment to the health of Surama and the children was much too great. As a group, we discussed the pure dedication and determination it takes to be a part of this team. Nothing like back home in Canada. You don’t get rest days, time off, or breaks. You are there when your community needs you. What unity this community has. At home, we see nurses running out of the hospital so they don’t have to stay a minute past their pay, or doing the bare minimum because “they need a bigger paycheque”. Verna and the rest of the team are constantly doing things outside their scope to save their community. What other choice do they have?

The nurses working 12 hour shifts in small dress shoes with no socks. I look at as I wear my $200 fancy nursing shoes I tell everyone they feel like I’m walking on a cloud, yet I still find the 12 hour shifts dreadful. Perspective. Perspective is everything. When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. If the hospital and nurses taught me anything, it was resilience. Just like the nurse and community health worker at the Surama health post, these professionals are doing this because they care. Not for the paycheck, not for the recognition. They are doing it to help their community.

After lunch, we got back on the road to head to the village of Annai to visit their District Hospital. The road to the village was far from easy to drive on, but we had a great pilot (as he likes to call himself) Bertrand, who got us there safe, sound, and in a timely manner. Once we reached the hospital, it’s wasn’t quite what I was expecting, but I also don’t know really what I was expecting. It was a small enough building, where reception was outside. We met the lovely head nurse and her two nursing student who gave us a great tour of the hospital. We got to see the emergency room, outpatient station, mother and children’s health, environmental health, labour and delivery, the post partum lounge, the laboratory, and the general ward. It was amazing to see and be able to compare the differences in the way things are done in Canada versus how they were done in Annai. For example, women in Canada receive prenatal checks every certain amount of weeks were they will also get an ultrasound to check on the baby, but in Annai, the midwives do their own checks that don’t involve technology (like the ultrasound) which was different to hear about. We also had the opportunity to visit where pregnant mothers of 35 weeks of more go to stay while they wait to go into labour. This is a safety precaution as the villages surrounding Annai do not have the resources to have the mother’s deliver in their community, so being sent to the hospital is their safest option. We ended the tour with questions and a picture, and thanked the staff for graciously showing us the ropes of the hospital, despite being down their doctor for the day while they transported a critical patient to a bigger hospital with more resources.

After leaving the hospital, we had the privilege to go visit a resort run by a very impressive man by the name of Colin. He’s not originally from Guyana, but fell in love with the country at age 22 and never left. The resort was beautiful, capturing the authenticity and culture of Guyana. The best part of the resort, in my opinion, was the pool! If you’ve ever been to Guyana, you’d know that it gets pretty humid, which we aren’t really used to in Canada, so when we heard there was a pool, it was the greatest treat. The girls of the group went for a swim and had time to bond with one another, which was really nice, while the boys went to do whatever they do, I couldn’t tell you. We stayed in the pool for over an hour, it was so refreshing, and just got the chance to talk, get to know each other better, and relax after the eventful day we had. Dinner was served at 7 and it was a lovely set up. We had a first course which was pea soup and a squeezed lime, which was surprisingly delicious. Dinner was a variety of food, chicken, rice, potatoes, etc. And desert was stewed mango, which was kind of like peaches and cream, it was also delicious. Before we left the hospital, the team was all given a fancy word as i’d like to call them, that they had to use in a sentence at dinner. So when it came time at the dinner table, we went one by one, telling a story that somewhat corresponded to the course, and had to insert our word somewhere in the story. This game really brought out everyone’s creative story telling. After desert, we said our goodbyes, thanked Colin for his amazing hospitality, and set back on the bumpy road to hopefully be back at the lodge for 10pm. The night didn’t end there however. The bus ride back to the lodge was filled with laughter, and karaoke singing, again some were better than others. We found out that Shavesh is a karaoke king and that Marisa should probably stick to something else other than singing. It was another great bonding experience. We arrived back at the lodge around 10pm and all went straight to bed, drained from our exciting day of new knowledge, and some much needed relaxation by the pool. Here’s to another great day tomorrow and more adventures and learning to come!

Annai serves as the administrative heart of a cluster of five villages: Surama, Rupertee, Kwatamang, Woweta, and Annai itself. The Toshao of Annai is the Chief of the five villages. The Senior Councillor of each village is the Chief of that village. Issues affecting the villages are first discussed at local village council meetings. If a resolution isn’t reached, the matter is taken to the North Rupununi District Development Board (NRDDB), then to the regional meeting, and, if necessary, to the National Toshaos Council. However, many matters are resolved within the individual villages themselves, thanks to the level of autonomy granted to senior councillors and elders, which is particularly beneficial when decisions that serve the greater good of the villages need to be made. This layered approach ensures that every concern, whether big or small, receives a fair hearing. Community concerns are trusted and addressed promptly, thanks to established protocols and mutual accountability.

Listening to these leaders, we learned about the evolution of governance from pre-independence days to the present and how it continues to adapt for the future. The councillors thoughtfully compared traditional and modern systems, highlighting the resilience required to thrive in both. In the past, before technology connected the region, the Toshao would rise at 3 am to personally inform each household of important news, a testament to the dedication and unity that still define these communities. Leadership is seen not as a privilege, but as a profound responsibility to ensure the health, safety, and well-being of all. Leaders are trusted because they have been vetted and have proven themselves.

Colonization posed significant threats to Indigenous cultures and languages. People were often shamed, punished, and discouraged from expressing their heritage by those with colonial interests. The lingering effects are still felt today, with fluency in Indigenous languages in danger of decline. Yet, there is a renewed appreciation for the freedom and cultural richness that once flourished. This freedom is not only about moving across the land, but also about preserving languages, crafts, and traditions.

The visit also shed light on ongoing development projects in Kwatamang and the other villages. Each initiative contributes to the sustainable livelihoods of their communities and the nation, underscoring the region’s commitment to collective progress and environmental stewardship.

What stood out most was the sense of belonging and open communication within the community. Here, every voice matters. Leadership is not a distant authority, but a living embodiment of the community’s hopes, vulnerabilities, and dreams. Leaders work tirelessly to protect both the land and its people, ensuring transparency and respect at every council table.

Unity thrives in the Rupununi, not because of external influence, but because of a deep-rooted connection to the land and shared values. Belonging here isn’t about exclusion, but about embracing environmental education, respecting Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK), and living in harmony with nature. This is sustainability at its core: preserving the forest and its intricate web of life for future generations.

One challenge discussed was the short, three-year governance term. Despite frequent leadership changes, the community maintains continuity by upholding established policies and traditions, with previous leaders often providing mentorship and guidance. This unity, respect for elders, and shared purpose are the backbone of their resilience.

As a Trent student, witnessing this action-oriented and compassionate model of leadership has been deeply inspiring. It’s a powerful reminder that authentic leadership is rooted in accountability, engagement, and a genuine commitment to the community’s needs.

Ultimately, being part of this community means upholding shared values and a steadfast responsibility to protect the land from exploitation and greed. It’s about safeguarding not just resources, but the spirit and heritage of the people, rejecting extractive mindsets in favour of reciprocity and respect for both ecological and cultural legacies.

Here, sustainability isn’t just a goal, it’s a way of life, and a lesson for us all.

During our chat, Aunty Paulette shared the story of the Makushi Research Unit, which she founded in 1995. The group initially consisted of eight women and one man, and later expanded to include the Medicine from Trees group. Their mission was to research Makushi culture and revive or preserve traditional practices. While many of the original members have since retired, the next generation is eager to carry on this vital work.

Their projects have been impressively diverse, ranging from ethnobotany and ethnomedicine (such as treating tropical diseases like malaria) to making soaps, tinctures, crafts, and even studying village economics and construction. One standout collaboration was with the Institute of Applied Science and Technology (IAST) to create a Crabwood oil-based cleanser called Rupununi Essence. Not only is it a fantastic product, but a portion of the sales goes directly back to the women who helped develop it, their group, and the North Rupununi Development Board (NRDDB), bringing valuable funds into the Rupununi community.

Aunty Paulette also showed us a book the group published, Makusipe Komanto Iseru: Sustaining Makushi Way of Life. This book is a treasure trove for preserving Makushi culture, and thanks to its sales, it helps fund reprints and provides community loans.

Beyond cultural preservation, the group has tackled challenging social issues. They successfully lobbied for a ban on certain types of imported alcohol, recognizing its link to domestic violence, and have led community education efforts on topics like teenage pregnancy and drug use. Their approach is simple yet powerful: lead by example and inspire positive change. Their impact has reached far beyond Surama, since they’ve even been hired to train others in different regions, learning along the way about the unique similarities and differences among Amerindian villages.

All of this really underscored for us the importance of strong women leaders and teachers, and how empowering women and fostering collaboration can transform a community.

Food, Health, and the Changing Landscape

During our stay, we also discussed how chronic diseases, such as diabetes, have become increasingly common in recent years. Was this always the case, but it was undetected, or are things changing? Aunty Paulette observed that people’s diets often depend on employment status. Those employed with typical jobs tend to eat more processed foods, while others stick to farm-to-table or forest-sourced meals. It’s a fascinating area for future research, and a reminder of the value in preserving traditional ways.

A Legacy of Leadership

Next, we heard from Aunty Paulette’s courageous daughter, Caroline, who is proudly following in her mother’s footsteps. Caroline highlighted more of her mom’s pioneering work, including the Makushi dictionary and supporting translation services. Caroline herself is a force! She writes proposals for community projects, consults on initiatives, and creates films about Makushi culture by interviewing elders. Some of her work has been supported through her fellowship with Conservation International.

After watching one of Caroline’s videos, we were blown away by the wisdom the elders shared. She also explained how leadership has changed over time, emphasizing the importance of oral knowledge in teaching us to live in harmony with the land. As a special gift, Aunty Paulette presented us with a book of Guyanese folk songs written in both English and Makushi.

Celebrations and Goodbyes

We spent the afternoon preparing our presentations and a farewell song for our friends in Surama. By five-thirty, we made our way to the goodbye ceremony, feeling a mix of excitement and sadness on our last bus ride through the village.

The ceremony was beautiful, full of traditional song and dance, including a piece about weaving cotton hammocks (which, we learned, used to be a requirement for women hoping to marry!). All the performances were put on by local youth, who are learning to keep Makushi traditions alive, right down to hand-making their outfits.

We were amazed by their talent and even joined in for one of the dances. Then it was our turn to perform our song for the community; a heartfelt goodbye, even if some of our notes wandered off and never returned!

We also shared what we’d learned and how this experience would shape our work back home. Frances’ presentation was one of the most vibrant. She described how she dove headfirst into the world of forest cuisine, gutting fish and sampling wild delicacies. At one point, she was carefully trying to determine the age of a fish, as scientists do, when an elder known fondly as “Uncle Sparrow” cut in and said, “What does it matter? Just eat the damn fish!” Sometimes the best advice is the simplest: enjoy the meal and don’t let good food go to waste! Uncle Sparrow knew what mattered! Scientific curiosity is great until dinner gets cold.

A Night to Remember

Once the presentations wrapped up, the culture committee performed a touching goodbye song and gifted us beautiful handmade lanyards. We shared a delicious traditional meal cooked over the fire, then capped off the night with photos and storytelling. Around 10:00, we said our goodbyes. Some of us tried to grab a few hours of sleep before our 3:30 a.m. wake-up call, while others stayed up stargazing and watching Shrek on the rooftop.

As we prepare to head home, we’re carrying with us more than just memories; we’re bringing back lessons in leadership, community, and the enduring power of tradition. Thank you, Surama, for everything. Until next time!