Tracy, who I met in Guyana, is actually from North Carolina. She had a kid and raised him in Dominica, and after he grew up she and her husband moved to Guyana to open up a vineyard.
Guyana’s infrastructure is playing catch up with its growth, but back when they moved it was even further behind. They worked together to establish a cafe, lodges, and a home all around a private vineyard by the Essequibo River.
Her husband passed away a couple years ago, but she decided to carry on the dream. The vineyard gets regular visitors, many of whom stay in the cabins overnight. A hidden eco-retreat in Guyana.
She told me her story, interspersed with mystic interpretations and explanations of things that had happened. She told me my energy ran parallel to the bison, a creature many tribes identify with generosity and abundance. The plains-dweller typically makes little effort to evade hunters, enabling them to use the vast amounts of resources from its large body. Flattering interpretation, though I might put in some effort to escape some hunters, personally.
She then asked about my spice tolerance before preparing me a blackened cod with salsa and avocado, a precursor to the eventual rounds of wine she’d bring out.
Tracy