Welcome to The Marabunta Chronicles: Memories of My 1970s Guyanese Childhood, and Other Musings. My name is Tricia and I have lived in the United States since 1981. Given that it is 40 years later, my memories may be a little fuzzy and some fictionalizing may be necessary to fill in some gaps. Names will be changed to protect the privacy of individuals, but I will be as open and real with my recollections as I can. I hope you enjoy this little trip down memory lane with me.
What the hell is a Marabunta? A marabunta is the Guyanese colloquial name given to large stinging wasps. One of my earliest memories is getting stung by one on the knee in my living room in Georgetown. I must have been six or seven years old.
My parents had people over; I think they were all playing dominoes or cards, and imbibing on the local Banks' Beer and El Dorado rum - to name a few. As I knelt beside the coffee table to have a closer look at the card game, my knee must have gotten too close to a marabunta that was on the floor, likely lapping up some beer or rum that spilled there. The damn thing stung me good - "Aaaah! A marabunta sting meh." It hurt so bad. I was screaming bloody murder, and my father and his friends had to hold me down while my mother was trying to get the marabunta's sting out of my knee. I think I was more afraid of the method for extracting the sting more than I was of the pain that I was experiencing - which made me scream even louder. The next day I heard people down the street from us ask, "Is wuh happen at yuh house last night?"- which goes to prove that I had a good set of lungs on me, and that I was utterly terrified.
The Guyanese method of getting the sting out was to drip hot candle wax on the area and beat it with the back of a spoon! What in the bloody hell?! I've asked, and it seems that the purpose of the hot wax was to draw the stinger closer to the surface for easier extraction. As for beating the area with the back of a spoon? I have no answers. So, there you have it. It was painful, and I survived. I still have a tiny little scar on my knee from the incident - so that I would never forget it. Needless to say, wasps freak me the freak out to this day!
