For many first-generation Guyanese Americans, identity is shaped by two places at once. Home is often introduced through the stories told by parents and grandparents, Sunday lunches filled with familiar dishes, and annual trips that never seem long enough. Guyana becomes something deeply loved, even if it has not yet been fully experienced. For many, the question is not whether they are Guyanese, it is how they fit within a culture they inherited while growing up somewhere else.
For Rondelle Martin, that question eventually led her back to Guyana.
A consultant and resource guide for individuals considering a move abroad, Rondelle has become one of a growing number of voices documenting what life actually looks like after relocating from the United States to Guyana. Through social media, she shares practical guidance, cultural insight, and the realities, both rewarding and challenging, of building a life in a country that was once simply her parents’ homeland.
In this edition of After the Makers, we sat down with Rondelle to discuss identity, belonging, quality of life, and what it truly means to come home.
Born in Washington, D.C., and raised throughout the DMV area, Rondelle grew up with parents who intentionally ensured Guyana remained part of her identity. Her mother is from Buxton, East Coast Demerara, while her father was from New Amsterdam, Berbice. Childhood visits introduced her to Guyana, but it wasn’t until adulthood that she truly began experiencing the country as home.
She described growing up in what she calls the intersection of two cultures.
“I’m too Caribbean to fully be American, but I’m too American to fully be embraced as being Guyanese.”
It is a feeling many first-generation immigrants understand. Despite proudly identifying as Guyanese, there were moments when others questioned that identity because of where she was born. Yet inside her own home, Guyana was never an afterthought. It was part of daily life, family traditions, and the values her parents worked hard to preserve.
Following the passing of her father, Rondelle found herself reevaluating what she wanted her future to look like.
As a self-employed single mother, she began comparing the practical realities of remaining in the United States with the possibilities that existed in Guyana. Rather than making an emotional decision alone, she approached it analytically. She compared expenses, lifestyle, opportunities, and the environment she hoped to create for herself and her son.
Ultimately, the numbers made sense.
She explained that her monthly cost of living in Guyana averages approximately $1,000 USD when she is intentionally budgeting, allowing her income to stretch significantly further than it could in many American cities. More importantly, the move gave her something money cannot easily buy: time.
Instead of working from sunrise until late into the evening simply to keep pace with expenses, Rondelle found herself slowing down.
That slower pace has transformed her quality of life.
Within only a few months of relocating, she lost nearly 40 pounds, a change she attributes in part to the accessibility of fresh fruits, vegetables, and locally sourced foods. Fresh produce is abundant, healthy options are easier to incorporate into daily routines, and even fresh chicken can be delivered directly to her home when needed. For her, healthy living became less about strict discipline and more about living in an environment where healthier choices are naturally available.
The transition, however, was not without challenges.
Adjusting to Guyana required embracing a different rhythm of life. Businesses generally close much earlier than those in the United States, and conveniences such as large retailers, twenty-four-hour shopping, and immediate access to virtually any product are not always available. Those differences required patience, but over time she came to see them not as inconveniences, but as reminders that life does not always need to move at American speed.
Perhaps the greatest surprise wasn’t the pace of life. It was the people.
Rondelle spoke warmly about the sense of community she found after moving. Even the neighborhood “scrapes”, a Guyanese term often used to describe men who gather and socialize on street corners (among other activities), regularly checked to ensure she was doing well. Her landlady became another source of encouragement and support. Those everyday interactions reinforced something she believes many communities have slowly lost: neighbors genuinely looking out for one another.
That sense of belonging has become one of the greatest gifts of her move.
Although she always considered herself Guyanese, living in Guyana has deepened that identity in ways she never expected. What was once inherited has now become lived experience. She no longer feels caught between cultures in quite the same way because she now has the opportunity to experience her heritage every single day.
When asked what home means today, her answer was simple.
Home is where the heart is. For now, that place is Guyana.
Her father’s Berbician roots continue inspiring her own journey of discovery. Although she admits she has not yet attended a traditional Queh-Queh celebration, she hopes to experience more of Berbice while ensuring that her son grows up with firsthand memories of Guyana rather than secondhand stories alone.
She also encourages visitors to experience Guyana during the summer months, particularly around Emancipation celebrations in August, when communities gather to celebrate culture, history, and freedom through events taking place across the country.
Her final message, however, extended well beyond tourism. It was a message directed toward the Guyanese diaspora.
If you have a Guyanese parent, Rondelle encourages you to explore your eligibility for citizenship by descent, reconnect with your heritage, and consider building a future in the country that shaped your family’s story. Whether that means purchasing land, starting a business, visiting more often, or simply introducing your children to Guyana, she believes no one should leave their birthright unexplored.
As our conversation came to a close, her final words were both heartfelt and direct.
“Come home.”
Not because everyone should permanently relocate. But, because understanding where you come from may become one of the most important investments you ever make in yourself, your children, and the generations that follow.
Beyond sharing her personal journey, Rondelle also highlighted the work of the Durant Family Fulfillment Group, her family’s nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting children and the elderly throughout Guyana. Their initiatives include annual backpack drives for students, Christmas outreach for senior citizens, and community projects designed to strengthen families across the country.
To learn more about the Durant Family Fulfillment Group, volunteer, or follow their work, visit:
https://linktr.ee/officialrondellemartin
Those wishing to directly support the organization’s community initiatives may also contribute through Cash App:
https://cash.app/$MamaMartin12
Stories like Rondelle’s remind us that identity is not static. It grows through experience, through community, and through the courage to return to the places that first shaped our families.
After the Makers.
The Corriverton Co. is rooted in Berbice, documenting life beyond Guyana into the Guyanese diaspora.
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