A Jungle Expedition!

I just returned from what I know will be one of the most memorable trips of my life. Fourteen Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV) set out on an expedition to reach a secluded place deep in the untouched rain forest of Suriname and we succeeded.

We were logistically organized and lead by my good friend and fellow PCV, John, but literally lead by a pack of Surinamese boat men that held our lives in their hands guiding us along the Suriname River. We started the trip with a 4:00am departure on Monday morning with the hopes of arriving to John's village by dark. Ha...wrong! The water is so low from dry season that travel is dramatically slower than average. We often would hit sand in the middle of the river and have to step out and walk along the boat as it trudged along to deeper water. Or the river would be so dry in places that we actually carried/pushed/pulled the boat over the rocks to the other side. 

Darkness descended upon us so we posted up for the night in a village along the way. We found an empty house, packed in tight, and all managed to find a spot to tie a hammock. The boatmen slept out on the rocks next to the boats with all of the supplies (including food, gas, equipment, and our 7 cases of beer) for the expedition.



Here is where we tied our hammocks for the night.





Tuesday morning we got off to a great start. We were back in boats and on the river by 8:00am. We gratefully arrived to John's village, in the afternoon with daylight to spare. We got washed up, ate well, took a tour of his village, and of course cracked open some djogos of Parbo.



Excited to have arrived to John's village to rest and regroup.

Replenishing those energy stores for tomorrow's travel day.







John (the organizer) and Me





Another highlight was getting to go with Christina to visit her village--which is within walking distance to John's village. Here we are standing next to her little gangasa in the back of her house.





Third day, back on the river at 9:00am heading towards our main destination--one small gangasa and latrine built in the jungle all by its lonesome--that is 8 hours of traveling further (well for the dry conditions) upriver (yes, the Suriname river travels from South to North) from the last village. 

Alas we joyously reached our resting stop! Before I could tie my hammock, one guide was out fishing, another two were skinning the Kaiman (which is similar to a crocadile but smaller) that we shot on the travel up, and the last guide already had made a cookng fire with a pot of rice going.

That night we ate well, fresh fish and kaiman, over rice. We went to sleep knowing that the entire next day (Thursday) was a rest day.

The day was filled with activities like sleeping, searching for "lounge chairs" among the rocks in the rapids, Chinese Checkers, lots of talking and telling stories, eating, and more sleeping.

Unfortunately, a few of the PCVs got pretty sick while on the trip, maybe from accidentally drinking some river water or maybe the food. We are not sure. No emergencies though--just really really uncomfortable people.

Friday was back on the boat. We would have arrived at 4:00 or 5:00 in the afternoon, back to John's village, except for the exciting pursuit to kill the Tapir. I don't have pictures of this because my camera at this point had an exhausted battery and no electricity to recharge it. In total (not including the fish and Kaiman already shot two days ago), two baboons, a bird of some kind, and a Tapir were shot!!! The smaller animals fit in the boat fine, but the Tapir had to be cut up then and there in order to bring it all with us. Many of us watched a large animal being butchered right before our eyes for the first time. To be honest, I don't know what the laws are in Suriname around hunting these animals, so I don't know if it was legal or illegal to be shooting these animals. In the moment, the shock factor of it all was exciting. It also felt good to know how many people the animals will feed. Additionally, the men did not hunt to make a profit, they did it for the food, at least in this case.

It took all of Saturday and half of Sunday to finally make it back to Paramaribo. Everyone arrived safe and sound, exhausted and accomplished.

EPIC.

 

The First 3 Months at Site

Focus on integration, they say. Do as the people do, build relationships, work on your language, be a learner. Take these first 3 months of service to stay at your site as much as possible, avoiding trips back to the city and seeing other volunteers regularly. These instructions were encouraged at the end of training.

So here I am at the end of my first 3 months and by golly I have yet to learn everybody’s names. Help! According to the most recent census (calculated by previous PCV), I have 430 names to learn, 200 of those are children. I have no idea how many I know at this point but I’m feeling decent about it, but not good enough.

Speaking of names and keeping everyone straight, the villagers are having quite the time keeping the two of ours straight. Adding a “t” to Suzie Kay’t’ is very popular as well as just calling either of us by either name. How they keep Shenada straight from shanimba and Oohma straight from MmmMa, but can’t quite grasp ours is baffling. Oh wait, just one more. How about Sakilena and Sasilena for not being confusing? J

I set my alarm. NOT. People rise and shine at different times, but the majority is early. The first visitor usually stops by around 8 or 8:30am. We had to train them first however, after having a few people knocking at the door at oh, 6:30am’ish. Thankfully for me, my roommate likes to be up earlier than me so she can entertain even the 8am’ers for me.

After waking up, my must do daily chores are waiting for me. These include washing myself, washing the dishes (from the day before and breakfast), and washing clothes (though this isn’t quite a daily chore). These tasks all include a ¼ mile schlep to the river, carrying a large bucket (think laundry basket) on my head (still holding it with one hand), and the correct soaps and towels. I can't do them all at once so usually it takes 2 trips per day to the river, but often 4 trips/day. Sweeping is a big deal and a never ending chore.

The most important part of the day and in being here is spending time with the villagers one way or another. Some days I walk to a certain part of the village to see who I can run into to chat with, some days I go directly to someone’s home to see them specifically, and other days I feel content with time I’ve spent with people that have come to our house to gi odi (to visit).  Gradually I’m learning about people’s lives and gradually I feel like we make a connection. It’s in these moments that I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be and I feel really grateful to be here.

Other parts of the day I do things for myself like sew pangies, clean house, yard work, try to build something, attempt the harmonica, do yoga, go walk or run, take a nap, cook/bake. Oh yeah, and did I mention play games with kids. Yes, kids are at our house nearly at all times unless we tell them to go to another place. They mainly request to color, do a puzzle, jump rope, play with a ball, play Zingo, or go play slagball. It mostly is great, very good for speaking the language, just the monitoring and disciplining that gets exhausting. 

Three times now I’ve gone to grounds. Each time has been with different people and doing different things. Going to grounds is an eight hour workout, a bonding experience, humbling, and full of adventure.

Now defining work varies culture to culture, so as far as the work I do that would be equivalent to how an American would probably define work, is not how I spend most of my time right now. This American style work would include doing readings for our PC Early Service Training happening now. Readings includes topics on facilitating groups, leadership, community mapping, community assessments, seasonal calendars, grant writing, funding. Our village does have a Stichting (Nederlands word for foundation or institution) and we’ve held about three meetings in our home and have attended one village wide gathering/meeting led by the village Captain.

So while my day might sound like vacation compared to your day (American readers), in many ways it is. J But with the amount of constant cultural differences, adjustment to everything, foreign language use, and missing what I was used to having, being here is nothing like vacation and somehow is just as much work.

A bathroom situation.

Written Aug. 6th, 2011

Maggie came to visit this morning. She is a frequent visitor. This time, only after a minute, she asked if she could go poopa (poop). I replied assumingly, you have a place at your house for that.

You see, this is our go to response for when the kids ask for water or something to drink because it is true, almost all families now have durotanks (holds rain water in a safe, clean place), thanks to the former grant work done by RPCVs David and Christine. This also is our go to response because you have to be wise with water here. During the rainy season, we have plenty for us and some to share. But I'm learning quickly if you go sharing the wealth as if you have endless running water, soon you'll lbe left with an empty durotank and no rain to fill it.

The durotank spouts are made so you can put a lock through them. I guess during the dry season we are to lock the durotanks because as the supply of rain goes down the demand for water and kids wanting to drink it goes up.

So, all of this explains why I applied the same reasoning to using the toilet to this 8 yr old girl. In her family's case however, it doesn't apply. They don't have a latrine. I inquired, so where do you go when you have to poop? The answer was the busi (jungle) or the liba (river). In my head I screamed, "the river...oooooh no!" Of course then I quickly changed my mind and permitted her to use the toilet.

This incidence left me heartsick, grateful, and motivated. Heartsick for Maggie and her family, grateful for the U.S.'s sophisticated and massive water and sanitation treatment systems as well as grateful for my indoor pour flush toilet/latrine system here in my Suriname osu (house). And lastly, motivated to find a solution for the families here without a safe, sanitary place to use the bathroom.

Despite later that day or maybe the following day, her sister came for the same reaso, I don't think we have to worry about Maggie making it a habit.

In Loving Memory

Today I will wear bright colors.

Last week at a Karaoke bar we were out having a silly good old time, enjoying our city life before heading out to village life. Laughter filled the air. I looked about surveying all the smiling faces around me and thought how good life was and how blessed I felt. You see, as I have been here experiencing all this joy and adventure, I knew my Uncle Rocky was at home experiencing pain and sickness. He had just decided to go off his nutrition bags after a long fought battle with cancer, so I knew he was in the final stages of the final days.

I thought how is it that I’m here joyous and free experiencing life’s gifts, feeling full and free, when at the same time, he is knowingly experiencing the end of his life? We were in such dramatically different places in life.  You might expect that guilt or sadness followed me, but it didn’t surprisingly. I felt peace. Somehow I understood the gift I was experiencing in that moment. You see, life is something to be lived and to live it as hard as one can. To me this is exactly what my Uncle Rocky did. He lived life hard. He worked hard, followed a dream, had fun, and always smiled. He lived it up I think this is why he was such an influential person to me. So in that moment, I had peace because I knew that I was doing exactly what Uncle Rocky would have done, has done, and would want me to do.

Today I will look for that same peace. Today will be his funeral and all my family will gather to celebrate his life. I will celebrate it too. I’d guess that he’d want me to eat good food and have fun…probably by dancing. I think I can do all those things. Maybe I’ll even buy a jar of pickles just to drink some pickle juice in his honor. Better yet, I’ll promise to paint him a painting, dedicated to him. I recently found the courage to attempt painting. The final boost of inspiration came from my last visit to see him in February when he patiently answered all my questions about each painting hanging in his house that he had painted. I also uncovered his easel from the basement, assembled its creaking body back together, and browsed through his brushes and paints with him watching and revealing his memories.

Thank you for everything. Here is to you.

Cheers!

Happy 4th of July Slagball Style

We were all at home-stay over the Fourth of July. But to celebrate, those that were in close proximity were gathered together to contest the Slagball team of Brokopondo. Slagball is a sport created by the Surinamese. It is inspired by cricket and baseball. Only the women here play competitively. Take a look at the pictures for a quick idea.

I'm proud to announce that we WON. The score was 123 to 114. The point system is complicated and points are being subtracted and added basically at the same time. The coach/ref keeps track on a piece of paper and adds up the score at the end. I'm sure it is done differently when it isn't just a pick up game. This photo shows teammates getting to the home pole to score.

Bananas are cheap and delicious here

"Some day I shall fly the rut and build a small, bucolic hut, trim a hedge and hop astile, walk my camel for a mile, milk a mid-victorian cow--eventually, but now."

-- Samuel Hoffenstein

From a little book about travel

Traditional Dance Performance

Some traditional dancing that was very impressive. My legs got tired watching them. Some of the moves they looked like spiders. Also at times it was incredibly sexual--which made most of the crowd in the first two rows quite bashful (this included me).

Apparently it was pretty traditional, so not like all the young kids are doing this in the village all the time. I mean, that would be me gettting people together to do polka dancing for fun. hahaha right.

We'll see though, all villages are different. I'm still hoping to learn some dancing, if anything for the exercise.