October 2007 - Sloth, Stingrays & Monkeys (etc.)

It’s been a long time since I last wrote. A great deal has happened during that time, and I will try to recount to you some of what has transpired here in Suriname to the best of my abilities. I now live in the capital city, Paramaribo, but I’ll go back a few months.

In April, I took my first in-country plane flight from Laduani, near Gunsi, to the city. It was amazing! There were five of us plus the pilot in a Cessna. The flight took 45 minutes, 5-6 hours less than the usual trip. I was so thankful that day for the work the Wright brothers did so many years ago, as I enjoyed the much faster trip, after 1 ½ years of taking the long road to and from the city. We saw all the villages along the Upper Suriname River down to Atjoni, the road, the bauxite and gold mining areas, the lake, and the city from the sky. The forest was gorgeous to see from above. Miles and miles of lush, beautiful green. I have flown twice since then, and the trip never fails to amaze.

April 27th, I went to visit the volunteers in Tutu. Before returning to Gunsi on the 28th, Fifi (a lady living near Viki, one of the volunteers) and I were discussing cheese and meat. I told her how I thought goat meat and cheese are very good. She retorted that she does not, nor will not, eat goat, called kaabita (kah-bee-tah) in Saramaccan, because, and this made me laugh, she doesn’t like how it moves its mouth. “Ma lobi fa a ta buli di buka feen” (Mah low-bee fah ah tah boo-lee dee boo-kah fehn). I found this extremely funny, especially as a reason not to eat it and knowing the other meats they do eat. Fifi does not like how goats move their mouths; so she will have none of it. You can’t really argue with that.

On April 29th, Basja Dududu took some medicine of which she detests the taste. She told me so in advance. Then, she proceeded to take her medicine and to scrunch up her face in absolute disgust. It was very funny and made me feel like we’re not so different after all. Medicine is the same all over the world, and apparently, we all seem to scrunch up our faces the same way.

On May 3rd, Viki, Margot, some Saramaccans, and I took a boat from Gunsi, past Atjoni, to the lake, crossed over, and went to Lebidoti, where Nathan Snyder (who has also extended a third year) was living. Nathan was holding his birthday party on the 4th. Before we arrived at the lake, we saw a lot of cranes, gray and brilliant white ones, which really stood out against the dark, forest green. The weather along the way could not have been better, and after a full-day’s trip, we settled into Lebidoti for the night. The next day, we prepared everything for the party: popcorn, cake, balloons, the meals, etc. In the evening, we had singing, dancing, drinking, and eating until the very wee hours of the morning. I think I went to sleep around 4:00 AM. It was a lot of fun, probably too much so.

TeleSur, the phone company here, did a great deal of work in Gunsi in May, as they have been doing in other parts of the country. TeleSur is trying to create a better telephone/cell phone communication system around Suriname. Carefully stacking one 3 meter piece at a time, they built a new 140 meter tower in Gunsi—quite the spectacle in the interior. People from other villages along the river flocked to see the looming structure. Armed with climbing gear and cables, the workers did an amazing job in constructing one of the interior’s tallest towers. We can only hope the communication system for everyone will indeed, over time, improve.

Around May 8th, Basja (under captain) Dennis, provided me with another great saying, which I have since used several times. He and another man were talking to me at the same time. As I couldn’t listen to both effectively, Dennis perceived the difficulty I was having. He proceeded to tell me, “Dagu abi fo futu, ma de an sa waka a fo pasi” (Dah-goo ah-bee foh footoo, mah day ahn sah wah-kah ah foh pah-see). Dogs have four feet, but they can’t walk on four paths. I love it! Just like a dog can’t walk on four separate paths, I can’t listen to more than one person at a time, despite the fact I have two ears. Saramaccan sayings, I must say, are priceless.

My trip to the city in May included my first Jewish service ever. We went to the synagogue here, which is right next door to a mosque….not common in the world these days by any means. The floor inside was all sand—in a literal sense, grounding all of us. The men and women sat separately, as is the tradition. I cannot say I understood everything said or done, but it was a nice service. I stood when others stood, sat when others sat, and listened to the wonders of Hebrew. Afterwards, we all went to eat and drink together in another meeting hall off to the side of the synagogue. Everyone was very warm and welcoming. I was extremely happy to attend a Jewish service, at long last, as I have been hoping to go for years.

On May 18th, the new trainees arrived. It was very exciting for all of us to welcome the new group, Sur13, to Suriname. Fresh faces. Fresh ideas. Fresh spirits. Since then, I have noticed they are a great asset to the Suriname program. It’s been good to have them here. Watching them adjust to Suriname, as I saw the Sur12s do, is a real joy. I guess that it makes it more pleasant when I have already been through it all myself. Don’t know if they shared my sentiments at the time, but I’m sure that they will.

On May 27th, I ate my first sloth. I had seen my Captain and his son with it the day prior, and on the 27th, well, we dined. Like many bush meats, it was very tasty. That same day, I taught my last English class. We learned two songs: Footprints by TOK and Different Colors by Lucky Dube, who just recently was sadly killed. He was a true spokesman for issues of humanity, and his loss will be felt all over the world.

As I looked around the class while they were intently listening to the music and words, I couldn’t help but feel sad about its being the last class, happy about how intent they were, and a little nostalgic looking back on our 1 ½ years together in class. It truly was one of my best outlets for exchange with the village. I will miss the children from my village. I cannot even begin to quantify how much.

Around June 12th, a young lady from my village told me a tale of three children who lost their mother. Their father took another wife. They lived so for years. One day, the stepmother said that the three children had to tell her her name, or they wouldn’t be fed. The children asked everyone they knew. No one seemed to know, and the children all but lost hope. Then, they came across this crab, who just so happened to know the stepmother’s name. It was a very long name, and, in turn, very difficult to remember. Cleverly, one of the children wrote the name under a tree. Later, the stepmother asked if they knew her name. The first child could no longer remember. The second remembered only a part of it. The third said he/she needed to go untie one of the animals and would return. He/she went to the tree, looked over the name several times, and returned. When he/she told the stepmother, she fainted. The children then joyfully ate everything in the house, having got the best of the stepmother. Later, after the stepmother had recovered, she found out that the crab had told the children. So, she took a stick and smacked the crab on its back. That is why crabs’ backs are lower than their fronts. The crab then quickly snatched the stick away from the stepmother and retaliated with a blow of his own, and that is why older people have problems with their backs later in life. I love stories! What a great explanation for why crabs and people have become what they are today!

Near the end of June, I cooked and ate my first stingray. One guy caught it in the river. It was huge! I had seen small ones scuttling around in the sand off the shore of Gunsi. This one, however, had a diameter of about 3 feet! Didn’t know they grew that large in the river. With stingrays, electric eels, and piranhas with very sharp teeth, you may wonder how people can be so daft as to go swimming. I have, at times, wondered that about myself, in fact. ☺ Once cooked, the stingray, I must admit, was not my favorite meat. Granted, it could have been my inexperience with cooking stingray, but I found out that I’m not the only one who is not thrilled with the taste. Good experience, though. How many people can say they’ve eaten stingray from the Suriname River?

On July 11th, I took someone along the path from Gunsi to Laduani, where he was to take a plane to Paramaribo. The plane attempted to make a turn to align itself with the grass runway. It only made the turn part way before one wheel, unexpectedly, sunk deep into the ground. I have to say I’ve never seen that before. After some intense discussion of how to solve this problem, in which really none of us had any experience, some of us grabbed shovels and proceeded to dig the wheel out, as you would with a car. Then, we cleared off the runway and let the pilot see if he could take off. No success. In fact, the wheel sunk even lower in the ground, the wing almost touching the ground. So, with renewed determination, we began to dig the wheel out a second time. This time, about 8 Saramaccans and I carefully lifted the wing up, just high enough for the plane to be able to move forward out of the hole. Now, I’ve helped dig cars out a few times. That was the first time, perhaps the only time, I will have helped dig a plane out. Don’t know when I’ll have the chance again. Everyone came together, and it was actually great fun. The strength and basic ingenuity of Saramaccans continues to amaze. I love moments in life that take you out of the normal routine. This was definitely one of those times.

In July, I was in the city finalizing plans for the education event we held in Gunsi and Tutu. It was a little hectic with some cancellations, scrambling to find replacements, buying food, etc. Event planning sure can be stressful. They’re not without moments of humor, though. I bought five packages of chicken. I put one pack in my backpack and carried the four others in a cardboard box. Being cheap, I chose not to take a taxi but rather the bus back to the Peace Corps office. As I was sitting on the bus, waiting to go, the heat from the sun, conveyed into the interior of the bus, started thawing out the chicken. We sat in the hot sun for a few minutes before we started moving. Along the way to the office, I noticed that the box was getting wet from the moisture and there was a bit of a trickle on the floor of the bus. As we drove further, the box got wetter and wetter and the trickle started to move along the floor. Finally, we approached the office. I pushed the buzzer to let the driver know I needed to stop. As I got off, and the reality I hoped to avoid came true, the box fell apart, and the chicken went flying out the door of the bus. I’m not sure what people out on the street thought as they saw a bus stop and four bags of chicken come flying out first, but I imagine it was quite a sight. The chicken, with a flare for the dramatics, landed all over the sidewalk. With as much dignity as I could muster, I picked up the bags of chicken and placed them back in what was left of the soggy cardboard box, to carry them across the street to the office. I found that adventures in event planning can be better than you ever imagined. Well, at least the chicken still tasted good.

On the 26th, I brought volunteers to Gunsi and Tutu. The next day, we started the Hoi i seei ku tja di konde go a fesi (Hoy ee say koo cha dee kohnday go ah fehsee: Hold yourself and carry the country forwards) education event in Tutu. The other volunteers taught about HIV/AIDS, nutrition, exercise, teamwork, community, basic health, business, etc. I helped coordinate to make sure things ran smoothly, with the hopes that the event would not turn into a flying box of chicken. Later that day, the U.S. Ambassador joined us. That night, we hired a band of drummers, and we all (including the Ambassador) danced. The next day, we walked around Gunsi, talking about some of the same issues with the villagers and had fun playing sports with the children of the village, which included Red Rover and the great wheelbarrow race. In the evening, we sat peacefully, listed to music, and enjoyed each other’s company. The event, after some stress, ended up being quite successful and actually a lot of fun.

On August 7th, I helped transport the new group of volunteers going to the river. The next few days, I visited with some people in Gunsi, said goodbye to some in Tutu—as my time was running short, helped the new Gunsi volunteer settle in, and was busy running around all over the place. On the Sunday night before I left, the villagers held a small party for me. I was really glad because I wasn’t feeling like I had enough time to say goodbye, as I had hoped. The women made cake. The children sang Dutch school songs, some Saramaccan tunes, and even the Hokey Pokey, which we had learned in English class. A few speeches were made. I made one speech myself about how the 2 years had gone for me, which was full of mixed emotions, some of which the villagers had perhaps not seen before. Koosus and calabash bowls were piled on me. One of the young village girls gave me something she had hand-sewn, something I had asked her to do for me months prior and thought she had forgotten. When she gave me her hand-sewn art, I was left speechless. The gesture meant so much to me, probably more than she’ll ever know. Later, we danced seketi, the traditional Saramaccan dance. The children played some drums. It was all so very overwhelming after 2 years. For me, it was a very sad, nostalgic, joyful moment in time, a moment I will never forget for as long as I live.

The next morning, several villagers came to the shore with me to bid farewell. Donned with some of the koosus given to me the night before, I boarded the boat, emotions welling up inside of me. I will truly miss my home away from home, and the place where I made a new name for myself, a name known to few in the world but that holds a very dear place in my heart…that of Gunsipai Donoe.

I now live in the city with two roommates from the Netherlands. There is a great deal of adjustment to city life. My roommates are making it easier, helping me feel at home here. I took the koosus given to me in Gunsi and decorated my room. It is, needless to say, quite Saramaccan, as I cannot possibly let go of what the two years meant to me. It feels like I brought a part of Gunsi with me. I will miss my life there in that small village along the shore of the Suriname River, even though I am also enjoying and looking forward to my time here in the city.

Since that time, I have been fortunate enough to travel around the country, including to two preserve areas. 3 volunteers and I went to Brownsberg, in the hills outside of Bronsweg, to the west of the lake. It was beautiful. We hiked on all of the trails—to the views from the top, to the waterfalls, to the cool swimming holes at the base of the falls. Howler monkeys could be heard all over the place. Agouti ran rampant. It was a good final trip for those of us left in my group. 2 of us have extended. The others have now gone.

In early October, one of my roommates and I went with 10 Surinamese to Voltzberg, in the National Preserve area (Raleigh vallen). We took a two hour bus ride west to Boskamp, where we boarded a boat on the Coppename River for a 6 hour journey to Fungu Eiland (fuun-goo island), the tourist camp. Fungu is in a beautiful location along a bend in the river. No villages are near the camp. In fact, only 3 or 4 villages lie along the Coppename River, and they are quite a distance downstream. As a result, the area is extremely peaceful, and the wildlife roams free.

The first full day, we went to some falls, hiking in pristine forest. The macaws and toucans were in full force, beautiful birds indeed. We also played a great deal in the river during the day, letting out some of the inner child that some had been hiding for some time in order to act grownup in the workplace. Of course, that was part of my normal routine. ☺ The second day, we went to see many more beautiful areas, including Anyumara Falls, which was a rather forceful waterfall, good for soaking and a strong back massage.

Monkeys were all around the tourist camp. We saw them climbing mango trees, traversing clothes lines rather adeptly—using their tales for counterbalance, and even for visits in the kitchen, where we were cooking.

The third full day, we took the hike up Voltzberg (240 meters tall), which wound its way along a forested trail through the magnificent Suriname wilderness. The last section of the trail, as the mountain has a rounded rock face, was a little steep. Upon reaching the top, we could see for miles in every direction. I could even see Juliana Top (you-lee-ah-nah Top), the highest peak in Suriname. The views were incredible, a sight that takes your breath away. After our descent, we ended the hike with a well-deserved, much-needed second trip to the massage of Anyumara Falls.

It was a wonderful trip. The boat ride was a little long, as we were surrounded by coolers, boxes of food, bags, and each other, a rather large group for the size boat we had. The Sranan Tongo mixed with Dutch was a little taxing on the brain at times, as I only know some of each. However, all in all, it was an extremely worthwhile trip.

Since then, I have been to my first mosque in Suriname, where I went to a call to prayer, and I have now been for my first time ever to a Hindu temple. A trainer from Washington, who led us in diversity sessions, took me there to make a couple of prayers. We were unable to attend a service. However, we prayed by rotating a tray of candles, incense, and flowers clockwise in circular motion. For me, it was a very moving experience, and I hope to have more of them as time goes on.

Other than that, I have been enjoying dancing in the city, having visitors, running, biking, working at the Peace Corps office, going to see volunteers at their sites, going to concerts, and just loving life. It will be exciting to see what this extension year has in store.