"Ninety percent I'll spend on good times, women and Irish Whiskey. The other ten percent I'll probably waste."--Tug McGraw(after signing a new 75K contract)
Due to our voluntary financial predicament, Peace Corps Volunteers around the World tip our caps to you, Tug McGraw.
America's pastime, not an easy ticket to come by in Suriname.
Strange start times, strange channel and not a lot of interest on the part of the Surinamese. Luckily, there is a bar located within walking distance of the Peace Corps Office and we've been chummy with the owner for a couple of years now. Infact it's almost a personal Peace Corps Suriname bar. If you've ever been to Chico, this bar is to Peace Corps Suriname what The Bear is to Chico State, it's not officially on our campus but it is. Last year, this was the only bar in town willing to play the opening Monday Night Football games for us, Patriots-Bills and Raiders-Chargers if memory serves me correctly. So, we got the owner's number and now we give him a call anytime we want to watch a game and I can't think of a time he hasn't opened up for us. Awesome! He's okay with strange sport kickoff/first pitch times, has the strange channels no one else has, TBS, and he can tolerate football although it appears he isn't too fond of baseball.
Since arriving in Suriname, I had one chance to watch a baseball game. Last year, the owner of this bar opened up but when we arrived we found out the game was rained out. I think we ended up eating some delicious barbequed chicken he cooked up for us and watched Family Guy and the other Sunday night cartoons on FOX. During this 2010 season, I had seen a grand total of 0 regular season games while in Suriname, although I caught a few games when I was back in the States on vacation. Most of my baseball updates this season came from two sources. First, reading my uncle's facebook status updates. I figured out the Giants had been on a winning streak and were moving up in the division when his facebook status changed to 'adopting a kid named Buster'. So either Buster Posey had a really good year or there's some new trend in America that I don't know about. My other source of updates came from over-the-phone play-by-play from my dad, "2-0 Giants in the 7th. 2 on, 2 out. 3-2 count to Tejada, here comes the pitch...struck him out! Grab some pine meat!" Kruk and Kuip meet Jimmy and Bobby. And so 6 outs after Tejada struck out, the Giants would win the division. My next trip into the city coincided with the opening of the Giants-Braves series.
Game 1, Thursday October 7, first pitch: 10:30 pm Suriname Time. But of course, we got to the bar earlier. Around 8 pm, I called the owner and informed him we wanted to come in, he said he'd open up for us at 9 pm and so we arrived accordingly. The night started off with my friend buying me a 1 liter Parbo Beer (referred to as a 'djugo' in Suriname) because the Padres finished second to the Giants. I toasted the 2010 NL West Champs, took a sip of the sweet, ice cold brew and noted that it tasted a lot like victory. My friend probably wanted to punch me. My 4 Peace Corps friends and I had a few drinks, shot the breeze with the owner of the establishment and watched the Yanks finish off the Twins. How far out of the loop are we? We had no idea Lance Berkman was a Yank. When did this happen!?
10:30 pm: Game time! Lincecum comes out dealing! Second batter and I'm already starting the left-field bleacher-bum chant: "What's the matter with Heyward!? He's a bum!" One of my New England based counterparts doesn't appreciate my cheer and begins her own anti-Yankee cheer; it was second rate compared to the banter that originated from the left field bleachers of Pac Bell Park--or whatever it is called now. In the middle of the first inning we're trying to explain to the owner the concept of baseball, he doesn't get it. He tries to explain cricket, we don't get that. Around the 2nd inning two more female Peace Corps Volunteers arrive and convince us to play card games and King's Cup. King's Cup, like baseball, also a first in Suriname. Also, a bad idea. I'm keeping an eye on the game the whole time but the owner sees I'm pre-occuppied and changes the channel to some FOX show. NOOOOOOOOOOOO! There's no score and Tim Lincecum is dealin'. But
I know he doesn't like baseball and I'm pre-occupied so I decide not to make a deal of it since it's early in the game. Little did I know I'd miss the only run of the game. By the time I had asked the owner to turn back the channel it was the 6th inning and already 1-0 Giants. And so the score would stand with Lincecum taking the victory and striking out 14. Got in a good couple fist pumps and a victory exclamation much to the dismay of the Padre faithful present at the time. I finally walked out the door sometime after 2 am Suriname time thinking clearly: better figure out where I can find a bed my next trip in the city so I can watch the Giants in the World Series. Go Giants!(This piece was written before the G's-Phillies series started)
(Now, This piece was written 10/24) I went to bed last night knowing the Giants had a 3-2 lead in the top of the 9th against the Phillies in game 6 of the NLCS. I wanted to stay up but it was already past midnight and the birthday party in Bendikwai the evening before had left me too exhausted to continue on late into the night. So I woke up this morning a bit anxious as I had not received any text updates from any friends or family updating me on how the game ended yesterday. So I spent the early morning hours biting my nails wondering, pondering, imagining how tourtous those last 3 outs must have come with Brian Wilson on the hill in the bottom of the 9th with what as far as I knew would be a 1 run lead in the bottom of the 9th. Not sure at what time I should wait to call home, my anxiety was relieved when a few minutes before noon I walked into my house after washing my clothes in the river and found my phone ringing... "Giants!" was all I heard on the other end, "Alright!"
I replied. My dad then gave me the whole play by play recap of game 6 and how the Giants managed to hold on.
This was perhaps the most unique way I have ever followed sports. In Gunzi, the electricity turns off at midnight or 8 pm on the West Coast. So for Games 1 and 4
I traded phone calls with my dad for inning to inning updates. Both games I stayed up well after the electricity turned off. So I had to light a candle and stay up with my phone kept close by waiting for a call from America with updates on the Giants. Glad I stayed up for those two games. Game 3 an afternoon game on the West Coast and I got a call in the early evening here in Suriname from my dad with an update on the game, that was pretty simple to coordinate. Games 5 and 6 occurred while I was in Bendikwai and immediately after I returned to Gunzi from Bendikwai for my friend's birthday party. Too exhausted to stay up these nights I had to go to bed each night and wake up both mornings not knowing if the Giants had won or lost and whether or not we had made the World Series. (Torture!)
Luckily I was able to see one of the games of the series, sort of, here in Gunzi in my hut! For Game 2, I was able to connect to the internet and was able to watch a live feed of the game from the middle of the jungle. And when I say watch the game, I mean my connection speed allowed me to see about 4 pitches every inning.
Fortunately the audio was loading faster and I got an every-other batter account as opposed to a play-by-play from McCarver and Buck. This was supplemented with the occassional Live Game Day update on Yahoo. And that my friends, is how you have to follow Giants baseball in the jungle. Go Giants!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Patching the roof
"They don't know that they don't know yet."--James Rhodes, New Hampshire/Vermont but still with us in spirit and on facebook
Roof repair ridiculousness! When I moved into my house I had a termite nest on my ceiling beam the size of 3 American Footballs. My roof, an A-frame made with trees freshly cut from the jungle and covered with a palm-like leaf the locals call palalu and all tied together with some kind of jungle vine, has been a haven for termites since I moved in. The termites have been nesting in my thatch roof for the past year and have recently chewed far enough through the thatch to create some leaks in the house. The first two leaks are next to my door above the shelf that holds my medicines and wicked cool imitation Dulce Gabana sunglass--actually acquired from a care package and not bought in Suriname. Suriname is notorious for their cheap knock offs of extravagantly expensive name brands. The other leak is above my kitchen stove. Needing some roof repairs, I gave Peace Corps a ring and got the OK to hire someone in the village to do some roof repair.
I approached Max, the villager who had tied the house for the previous volunteer. From what I saw he had done a good job tying the roof and the fault with the leaks was due to the location of my house next to an abandoned house infested with termites and a cashew tree which is also a breeding ground for termites. Max had been unable to work recently after a tree branch fell and went through his foot. He could not walk for about two months. Recently in passing he mentioned he wanted to find some work in order to make money to go to the city. So we sat down, negotiated the terms of payment and how the work would be carried out. I would help with some of the labor. Cue the introductory quote.
So day 1 Max and I walk out into the jungle. From my house, we walked 3/4's of a mile and we found a spot with an abudance of the tree leaves we needed for my roof. We cut down a tree with these huge palalu leaves--about 10 feet long leaves that look like a palm leaf. Max manages to nearly kill me on only 10 different occassions. He does this by cutting down trees that are falling next to where I'm stacking the leaves we have already cut. After cutting all the leavesm we finish stacking them and decide to come back for the pile two days later. Despite my lack of knowledge on thatch roof repair I have this hunch that we've cut too many leaves--Max told me I was wrong.
Day 2 of the work, on our way out to the jungle Max's slipper breaks and I have to run back to his house to retrieve another pair. The latch on his door is broken and I can't keep the door shut. A passing villager says he'll take care of it. So I walk quickly back out on the jungle path and after bringing Max his new pair of sandals we walk out to where we cut the leaves. Whew! They're still all there. Unfortunately, I'll be the one carrying the leaves 3/4's of a mile through the jungle and back to my house in the village. This sucked! So Max took the pile and seperated them into four stacks. He took the stem of the palm leaf and cut it very thin; he used this is as a rope to keep a stack tied together. So he gave me the first stack and I started carrying it. I got about 10 yards away when he yelled, "put it on your head! It'll be easier." So I carried the first stack of leaves, 60 pounds, 3/4's of a mile from the jungle to my house--on my head! Pretty damn tired already. Definitely thinking about that James Rhodes quote again. I go back for stack 2. Balancing this stack on my head again, I bring it to the trail head a little under a 1/4 of a mile from my house. I'm completely frustrated and starting to get pissed off. This work is even worse because we are in the dry season and everyday the weather is oppressively hot. I think the work will be less back breaking if I borrow the wheel barrow from the Captain. So I brought the 3rd stack through the jungle with the wheel barrow. This didn't go well either--path is to difficult to navigate with a wheel barrow. So I bring the 3rd stack and the wheel barrow to the trail head and leave them there. I begrudingly go back for the fourth stack, hoping that Max is bringing it into the village. He's not. Again, I bring another stack back to the trail head on my head.
All the stacks are at least in the village now--1 at my house, 3 at the trail head. So I need to get the last 3 stracks from the trail head to my house and I feel pretty confident someone will lend a hand. I guess I was overconfident at the time. Passing one house with one of the stack on my head I asked for some help, the man of the house told me he doesn't work on Sunday. In retaliation I've decided to close down my Flat Screen TV Repair business. So I go back to the trailhead and retreive the third stack of leaves and bring it to my house. Even more tired, no idea where the hell or what the hell Max is doing at this point. I go back to the trailhead and put the last stack of leaves on my head and carry it to my house. Done. THANK GOD! I go back to the trail head one last time to retrieve the wheel barrow I lent from the Captain. On my way back I pass Max's house who I see has cut a stack of leaves for his own house. Max now has the nerve to start yelling at me because I didn't close his door properly, "I own 5 guns and they're inside this house!" My response, "Haika!" (Basically, listen here buddy). The other villager had told me he'd take care of it and he didn't. Everything seems to be OK now and we agree to patch the roof tomorrow.
Day 3: mindi wosu(patching the house/roof). To be very blunt, this went awful. It started with Max asking me what I thought we should do. "Ummmmm, I've never done this before and you were hired to do this." He also asks me where the leaks are again, like the 10th time I've shown him.
So Max is working on the inside of the house, standing on my shelves so he can reach his hands up through the leaves already tied on my roof. I'm standing outside with a 12 foot stick and attaching leaves to the end of the stick to guide into Max's hands--this is one of those ridiculous moments where I wish I had a photo. I'm guiding the leaves to where I see his hands but his hands are not catching the leaves. He starts yelling at me, "You don't understand the work you American child!" OK. There are still three leaks in my roof so I've got to keep my cool and my mouth shut. A kid from next door comes over and shows me a few points for guiding the leaves into Max's hands better. This goes a little better, not much. Even with my improved technique, Max is just not very tall and can't get his hands high enough. After about 30 minutes of doing this, Max starts complaining that his neck hurts and he doesn't like doing this kind of work. At this point I'm getting really annoyed. We thatch the roof for another hour. We are putting the newly cut leaves from the jungle in between the leaves already tied into the roof. We believe we've fixed the first two leaks by the door. Now, we're working on the leak above the kitchen area when Max tells me he doesn't want to do any more work... Ok, bud, I spent the previous day carrying four loads of 60 pound leaves on my head 3/4's of a mile through the jungle, I'm baking in the heat today passing you these leaves and haven't complained once. If you've ever seen a Rodriguez get mad at a bad call during a sports game then insert that image here because that was my reaction when Max told me he was stopping. I had not patience left. I was not going to accept this guy not finishing the work he had agreed to do. We had a brief exchange. I made it clear he needed to finish the work and he agreed so long as he never would do this work again. He was not happy that he had made a whole new roof for the last volunteer and it was already leaking. So Max went back to work with no more complaints and I handed him more leaves and he positioned them in the roof. By the way, we only used 1 and 1/2 stacks of the four stacks of leaves I brought from the jungle. After we finished putting leaves in the roof, Max tied them around the beams going up to the ceiling. Kaba, finished.
So after 3 days of back breaking work, bringing leaves from jungle on my head and getting into a heated exchange with a guy who I had hereto had no problems with I at least had a sturdy roof above my head to show for all my troubles. Right? Nope. Now, there are four leaks in my house--there were three before we started.
Sometimes, this is just the reality of Peace Corps--back-breaking labor in the heat, working with frustrating people, unpredictability and not completely understanding local cultural habits. Even after a year, when you think you've seen and know it all, you don't know that you don't know yet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FyTl3MgAdaM
Roof repair ridiculousness! When I moved into my house I had a termite nest on my ceiling beam the size of 3 American Footballs. My roof, an A-frame made with trees freshly cut from the jungle and covered with a palm-like leaf the locals call palalu and all tied together with some kind of jungle vine, has been a haven for termites since I moved in. The termites have been nesting in my thatch roof for the past year and have recently chewed far enough through the thatch to create some leaks in the house. The first two leaks are next to my door above the shelf that holds my medicines and wicked cool imitation Dulce Gabana sunglass--actually acquired from a care package and not bought in Suriname. Suriname is notorious for their cheap knock offs of extravagantly expensive name brands. The other leak is above my kitchen stove. Needing some roof repairs, I gave Peace Corps a ring and got the OK to hire someone in the village to do some roof repair.
I approached Max, the villager who had tied the house for the previous volunteer. From what I saw he had done a good job tying the roof and the fault with the leaks was due to the location of my house next to an abandoned house infested with termites and a cashew tree which is also a breeding ground for termites. Max had been unable to work recently after a tree branch fell and went through his foot. He could not walk for about two months. Recently in passing he mentioned he wanted to find some work in order to make money to go to the city. So we sat down, negotiated the terms of payment and how the work would be carried out. I would help with some of the labor. Cue the introductory quote.
So day 1 Max and I walk out into the jungle. From my house, we walked 3/4's of a mile and we found a spot with an abudance of the tree leaves we needed for my roof. We cut down a tree with these huge palalu leaves--about 10 feet long leaves that look like a palm leaf. Max manages to nearly kill me on only 10 different occassions. He does this by cutting down trees that are falling next to where I'm stacking the leaves we have already cut. After cutting all the leavesm we finish stacking them and decide to come back for the pile two days later. Despite my lack of knowledge on thatch roof repair I have this hunch that we've cut too many leaves--Max told me I was wrong.
Day 2 of the work, on our way out to the jungle Max's slipper breaks and I have to run back to his house to retrieve another pair. The latch on his door is broken and I can't keep the door shut. A passing villager says he'll take care of it. So I walk quickly back out on the jungle path and after bringing Max his new pair of sandals we walk out to where we cut the leaves. Whew! They're still all there. Unfortunately, I'll be the one carrying the leaves 3/4's of a mile through the jungle and back to my house in the village. This sucked! So Max took the pile and seperated them into four stacks. He took the stem of the palm leaf and cut it very thin; he used this is as a rope to keep a stack tied together. So he gave me the first stack and I started carrying it. I got about 10 yards away when he yelled, "put it on your head! It'll be easier." So I carried the first stack of leaves, 60 pounds, 3/4's of a mile from the jungle to my house--on my head! Pretty damn tired already. Definitely thinking about that James Rhodes quote again. I go back for stack 2. Balancing this stack on my head again, I bring it to the trail head a little under a 1/4 of a mile from my house. I'm completely frustrated and starting to get pissed off. This work is even worse because we are in the dry season and everyday the weather is oppressively hot. I think the work will be less back breaking if I borrow the wheel barrow from the Captain. So I brought the 3rd stack through the jungle with the wheel barrow. This didn't go well either--path is to difficult to navigate with a wheel barrow. So I bring the 3rd stack and the wheel barrow to the trail head and leave them there. I begrudingly go back for the fourth stack, hoping that Max is bringing it into the village. He's not. Again, I bring another stack back to the trail head on my head.
All the stacks are at least in the village now--1 at my house, 3 at the trail head. So I need to get the last 3 stracks from the trail head to my house and I feel pretty confident someone will lend a hand. I guess I was overconfident at the time. Passing one house with one of the stack on my head I asked for some help, the man of the house told me he doesn't work on Sunday. In retaliation I've decided to close down my Flat Screen TV Repair business. So I go back to the trailhead and retreive the third stack of leaves and bring it to my house. Even more tired, no idea where the hell or what the hell Max is doing at this point. I go back to the trailhead and put the last stack of leaves on my head and carry it to my house. Done. THANK GOD! I go back to the trail head one last time to retrieve the wheel barrow I lent from the Captain. On my way back I pass Max's house who I see has cut a stack of leaves for his own house. Max now has the nerve to start yelling at me because I didn't close his door properly, "I own 5 guns and they're inside this house!" My response, "Haika!" (Basically, listen here buddy). The other villager had told me he'd take care of it and he didn't. Everything seems to be OK now and we agree to patch the roof tomorrow.
Day 3: mindi wosu(patching the house/roof). To be very blunt, this went awful. It started with Max asking me what I thought we should do. "Ummmmm, I've never done this before and you were hired to do this." He also asks me where the leaks are again, like the 10th time I've shown him.
So Max is working on the inside of the house, standing on my shelves so he can reach his hands up through the leaves already tied on my roof. I'm standing outside with a 12 foot stick and attaching leaves to the end of the stick to guide into Max's hands--this is one of those ridiculous moments where I wish I had a photo. I'm guiding the leaves to where I see his hands but his hands are not catching the leaves. He starts yelling at me, "You don't understand the work you American child!" OK. There are still three leaks in my roof so I've got to keep my cool and my mouth shut. A kid from next door comes over and shows me a few points for guiding the leaves into Max's hands better. This goes a little better, not much. Even with my improved technique, Max is just not very tall and can't get his hands high enough. After about 30 minutes of doing this, Max starts complaining that his neck hurts and he doesn't like doing this kind of work. At this point I'm getting really annoyed. We thatch the roof for another hour. We are putting the newly cut leaves from the jungle in between the leaves already tied into the roof. We believe we've fixed the first two leaks by the door. Now, we're working on the leak above the kitchen area when Max tells me he doesn't want to do any more work... Ok, bud, I spent the previous day carrying four loads of 60 pound leaves on my head 3/4's of a mile through the jungle, I'm baking in the heat today passing you these leaves and haven't complained once. If you've ever seen a Rodriguez get mad at a bad call during a sports game then insert that image here because that was my reaction when Max told me he was stopping. I had not patience left. I was not going to accept this guy not finishing the work he had agreed to do. We had a brief exchange. I made it clear he needed to finish the work and he agreed so long as he never would do this work again. He was not happy that he had made a whole new roof for the last volunteer and it was already leaking. So Max went back to work with no more complaints and I handed him more leaves and he positioned them in the roof. By the way, we only used 1 and 1/2 stacks of the four stacks of leaves I brought from the jungle. After we finished putting leaves in the roof, Max tied them around the beams going up to the ceiling. Kaba, finished.
So after 3 days of back breaking work, bringing leaves from jungle on my head and getting into a heated exchange with a guy who I had hereto had no problems with I at least had a sturdy roof above my head to show for all my troubles. Right? Nope. Now, there are four leaks in my house--there were three before we started.
Sometimes, this is just the reality of Peace Corps--back-breaking labor in the heat, working with frustrating people, unpredictability and not completely understanding local cultural habits. Even after a year, when you think you've seen and know it all, you don't know that you don't know yet.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FyTl3MgAdaM
Sunday, October 3, 2010
N. Aurora HIV Training
"Na fekete ABC"--Tutufolo's Poster: Abstain, Be Faithful, Condoms for HIV prevention
Over the course of my first year I have been distributing condoms to local boatman who live along the Upper Suriname River. This system was initiated by the previous volunteer in Gunzi, Kadjoepai (Cashew-pai, named for a previous village of the Gunzi residents before the flooding of the lake). Once one reaches Atjoni, the port of entry for the Upper Suriname River, you must find a boat to take you to the villages that lie south of Atjoni along the Suriname River--no cars. Every morning, boatmen drive their boats down the river (North) to Atjoni and then return to their villages up the river (South). The aim of this project is to distribute boxes of condoms to the boatmen when they arrive in Atjoni. They will then bring them to their villages and distribute the condoms to their villagers. Due to the sexual habits in the interior our HIV trainings mostly focus on the C(ondom).
During my first year of service I have distributed condoms to six boatman in my area and have wanted to expand and formalize this project since I arrived in Suriname. Recently, I have begun to expand this project and I gave my first training at a winkel (local store) in one of Gunzi's neighboring villages, Tjaikonde (Translation: The sad village). Peace Corps Volunteers accompanying me on this training were Catherine aka Tjaigowtu(Tjaikonde's Gold) and the recently arrived Tutubala(Brother-in-law of Tutu), on rare occassions I call him Josh. The three of us arrived at the winkel of a man named Bamos, a big burly boatman in his 20's whose younger, more trim brother Asonu helps run the winkel in Tjaikonde. We gave both Bamos and Asonu a pre-test on HIV transmission to find out what they knew. Asonu aced it and Bamos was pretty close. After the pre-test, we ran through a quick and relevant HIV lesson. We reviewed and taught basic HIV transmission such as whether or not HIV can be transmitted through a mosquito--this is a common misconception here because of the present mosquito born illnesses like dengue and malaria. We then reviewed how to put on a male and female condom and talked about how and where to properly dispose of the used condoms. We wrapped up with a post-test and this time both guys aced it. Success! So, we gave them two boxes (144 condoms/box) of male condoms and 50 female condoms to distribute. In order to begin collecting some semblance of formal data, we asked them to keep track of how many people came in and asked for condoms. Also, we needed them to contact us Peace Corps Volunteers when the condoms ran out so we know in the future how many boxes of condoms we will need to continually supply one winkel per week. At the moment, the winkel is distributing about one box (144 male condoms) per week.
The future of this project looks potentially bright but will fall on the shoulders of the continual motivation of the boatman, the coordination with the local medical post in the Atjoni area who will begin to distribute condoms to the boatmen and the organizations in the city who will have to help transport the condoms into the interior. I don't know if it will work but everyone ta mbei moiti (is making the effort), as we say in Saramacan. With the help of Suriname's Medical Mission, the name of the local medical posts, we are putting together informative HIV posters and beginning to set-up a formal training day and system to distribute the condoms to the boatmen. If all goes to plan, in early November I will help train at least 15 boatmen on the Upper Suriname River to distribute condoms in their villages.
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