Since April 4, quite a bit has happened here for me in Suriname.
I spent one weekend in April working a basketball camp with Stanford alum who played for the women's basketball team. Shelly's teammates from Stanford flew into Suriname and I helped them out for 3 days. We worked with young girls in the morning and the women at night, teaching them basic basketball fundamentals.
After the camp, my mom came to Suriname. We did a few nights in the city, a few nights at the luxurious eco-tourism camp called Bergendal and 5 nights in Gunzi. In the city, I took my mom to Madonna's for a traditional Peace Corps dinner--Saoto soup washed down with several Parbo beers. At Bergendal, we did zip lining through the jungle canopy. And at site, we hung out with the women and threw a dance party for the village. The highlight of my mom's stay actually came after she left. A women from my village named Teti called my mom's cell phone number that I gave her a year ago while on vacation in the States. She dialed but my mom didn't have the phone on. When I asked Teti what she'd talk about with my mom since she didn't speak a word of English, she told me she just wanted to call and give my mom some "weki" (good morning).
After my mom left, I went with Craig and Matt to French Guyana to go and visit Julien (who had already come and visit us). We crossed the border from Suriname to French Guyana by boat and met our friend in St. Laurent. We stayed at his place near Kourou and he took us around French Guyana. There were highlights a plenty during this trip, including some hikes to jungle prisons, great dinners, endless caprinhas and a trip the Cayenne market as well as a trip to the infamous French Guyana penitentiary, Devil's Island, which is the more fucked-up Alcatraz equivalent of France (Papillion is based off this place).
Upon returning to Suriname I spent about a week in the city to go back out to the border crossing. But instead of crossing into French Guyana I'd be embarking on what I thought would be a several hour boat ride south to go and stay with a friend named Dave who lived on the Lawa River with the Ndjuka maroon tribe. The several hour boat ride turned into a two day adventure. We left Albina and headed south with a fully loaded boat around 10 am. When we finally docked that evening after 5 pm, we stopped at a random camp with a Chinese owned store. were not halfway to our destination but we had a place to hang our hammocks and grab a cold beer so I was a happy camper. We finally made it to our destination the following day at 6 pm. That week, I worked with Dave, three other Peace Corps volunteers and local residents of the area to construct a playground. I helped bring pieces of wood from the jungle into a boat and then unloaded from the boat onto our work area. I think 6 of us transported over 300 pieces of wood in 2 days. With the heat, some of the hardest work I've ever done. When I left, all the beams for the frame of the towers had been put into the ground. I've since seen some pictures of the playground and it looks pretty awesome.
Another note worthy event which I hope to post some videos (there are already pics on facebook) was the 4th of July party in Gunzi that I hosted. Basically, to promote American ideals I bought a bunch of hot dogs, opened up a can of sauerkraut that PC Sur-14 volunteer, Josey, gave me a year ago, hung some American flags in the community center and brought some games and threw a nice party. We played some pin the tail on the donkey, Operation and colored some photos of famous American Civil Rights heroes. To conclude the celebration, we hung a poster of all the flags of the World on the World Map that we did in Gunzi and a Monte Ellis Slamadamonth poster from a Slam magazine my mom had brought me. Go Warriors!
Since the end of May, I've most been in Gunzi. With most of the volunteers in my group already gone or leaving, I've been attending going away parties almost every week. Of course, the big kahuna of going away parties was held in Zemoise where Craig and Casey paid to bring in the best band on the river, Lawa Style.
Highlight of the night was definitely all the volunteers dancing on stage with the band.
At this point in time, I am the last Peace Corps volunteer for Sur 15 still at their original site. All others have gone to America, moved out of their village and are staying in the city, and three folks from our group will be staying in Suriname for a 3rd year and are already working in the city. I will be here one more month to see out the end of the school year. And yes, there will be one more going away party.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Sur 15: Two years remembered
"May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
May you stay forever young" --Bob Dylan
Sur 15, where do I start? By foot, by car, by plane, by motorized canoe, we've spent the last two-plus years together traversing the jungles of Suriname, crossing its many rivers and climbing our own personal mountain. This is my reflection on our journey, through the ups, the downs, the good and the bad.
When we first came together in Miami, our first decision was to choose where to go to dinner. Already true to Sur 15 fashion, we argued over where to go. Some people wanted to go to the Cheesecake factory, a few wanted Cuban food and I just wanted a good old greasy American meal with a beer. Unfortunately, the four guys I talked into going for burgers and a brew were the first four guys to leave us early. If one of you four happens to come across, remember you were never forgotten.
After leaving staging in Miami, we finally set off for Suriname. At NAKS we were greeted by a rambunctious group of Sur 12s, 13s, and 14s who were gracious enough to give us koosus/pongis (Cristin Smith gave me mine) and alarmed us with their obsession with cheese. During our short stay at NAKS, staff dispersed our pictures on a map of Suriname to show us where we would be living for the next two years. There was excitement, curiousity and a sense of loss. After 10 days, making new friends, we were already being separated from some of those volunteers who would not be living in our region.
After NAKS, we went out to our respected regions to get our first impression of the area where we would be living. I will never forget that first night on the river. I stayed with Andy in Amakakonde and took my first night boat right that evening, a 20 minute trip north and then 20 minute trip back south between Amakakonde and Gengeston. And on night three, I remember meeting up with all the other volunteers on the river for our first fun day with our beloved Sur 14 grandpa who was offering beef jerky crumbs and gold bond anti-itch powder to the unsuspecting youngsters.
And then there was homestay. I know some people didn't enjoy homestay but my family and experience were good. After exhausting and sometimes frustrating four hour language classes each morning with Denise and Craig, the three of us would meet up with the other volunteers living in Asigron. Victoria-Asigron was quite a comical experience, six volunteers living close together, feeling out the culture, feeling out each other. I remember the first time we had to build a latrine and wash house for the village. Again true to fashion, there were four volunteers and four different opinions on how to get the job done. But it will be the afternoons in Victoria-Asigron that I will remember the most, drinking beers at Edel's shop with my fellow volunteers and the Guyanese construction workers, meeting up for ice cream or The Office marathon at Casey's house. And who could forget their first 3 hour church experience in Victoria? I know Craig, Denise and I never will.
Maybe the best thing that happened to our group was an administrative error. When our quarterly stipend checks didn't show up on time before moving into the interior, we were "stranded" in the city, unable to move to our villages. At this point, I felt there were a handful of people who I knew well, mostly through homestay. But with an extra week in the city with nothing constructive to do, living in an apartment suite at Stadz with five other guys which we called "Parbo Delta Parbo" I felt a real connection with the greater group for the first time in three months. There were days spent washing meat buckets with Cam, Ian, Shelly and James in the bathrooms at Stadz. We said goodbye to Mike. Ian, James and I crashed a random 60 year old's birthday party because they'd give us as much whiskey and food as we could stomach if we'd dance. Hopefully the video of that party never turns up on youtube.
After two weeks in the city, it was finally time to move to site. The journey to site should have been a forewarning that this job wasn't going to easy. While driving to Atjoni we popped a flat tire, when we arrived Catherine's cat escaped its holding box and ran into the jungle, after packing up our belongings into a motorized canoe our engine wouldn't start and when it finally did we travelled over an hour from Atjoni to Gunzi in the pouring rain. At this point, I was still feeling upbeat about things until I opened the door to my house and saw a termite nest the size of three American footballs attached to and chewing through my roof. Instead of unpacking, my first day at site was spent knocking down and spraying a termite nest. After a rocky first month at site, I remember most of us thinking what the hell are we doing here!?
I am not sure that question was ever really answered. But over time, it gradually unfolded itself differently to each person. For me, it was a personal journey, sticking with a commitment, overcoming challenges and adversity, and picking myself up from the ground (or the Suriname River) after making mistakes.
Near the end of year 1 of our service, we said goodbye to James. And almost, I left as well. I remember taking a weekend trip to the Cottica and not sure whether I'd take my vacation or just throw in the towel when I got back in the city on Monday. I was frustrated, frustrated with life in the village, frustrated with the lack of meaningful work, frustrated with Peace Corps in general. I definitely owe a lot to A.T. and Molly for hosting me that weekend and getting me through that tough time. Although I still feel my reasons for wanting to leave were legitimate, quitting would've been the worst decision I ever made.
Friendships were what got me through two years of Suriname. Friends in the village, in the city, returned Peace Corps volunteers, Sur 14s, 15s and 16s, and on the Peace Corps staff. In Sur 15, I had some great friends and some great moments. Fun days on the river will always be my most fond memories of times spent together--parties in Bendikwai and at the Tjaikonde zaal, up-river brokodays,
Gunzi fun days. And there were good times in the city--a field trip to the Paramaribo zoo, dance parties at Ian's, sports games at Rendezvous and of course, any night spent at Madonna's.
There were also plenty of good trips with friends--the lake, Langu, Commewijne, Gronigen. Definitely the most memorable trip was the epic two day boat trip up the Marowijne and Lawa river to reach Dave Scott's site, Gonini Kiiki Mofo, with Ron, Cheryl and A.T. Not even reaching the half way point to our destination, the five of us spent the first night outdoors at a little hammock camp with a Chinese store in the middle of the jungle. It was a cold night but at least the company and Brazilian beers were good.
Although I feel I had many good friends, my two besties were definitely my amigos on the Suriname River, Craig and Matt. I hope that in the States we can continue some of our mid-day phone calls and nonsensical and sarcastic text messages. It was always comforting to know there were two other guys out there just as bored as I was on Wednesday afternoons. I specifically remember one series of text messages where Matt and I debated what Saramaccans were actually doing in the jungle. After an hour of back and forth text messaging, we determined there must be a Target store with air-conditioning somewhere hidden in the jungle where our villagers go to pass the time. We'll find it someday. Visiting Craig and Casey in Zemoise, that place felt like a second home to me because so many people knew me in that village. There were many a good times spent there whether it was dancing at brokodays, The Killers dance party at Craig's house, boat rides up the river to Slee and tapa wata, walking in the jungle with Alogo or just hanging out.
Even though I did not mention all of them, everyone in Sur 15 contributed to getting me through these two years and I'd like to thank them for a quality two years. Some folks are already back in the States and I already miss the conversations we'd have in the office. Some folks are going back soon and I know I'll miss your company as well. Little by little, the table at Madonna's begins to become a little more empty, chairs filled up by new strangers who will become friends. Wherever you may be in the States, I hope you all will continue to live with that same tough attitude that got us to perservere through two years here in Suriname--whether it was overcoming personal obstacles, snakes, tough villages, etc. I've played a lot of sports and been involved with different organizations, Sur 15 we were definitely the toughest team I've ever been a part of. Waka bunu dee mati.
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
May you stay forever young" --Bob Dylan
Sur 15, where do I start? By foot, by car, by plane, by motorized canoe, we've spent the last two-plus years together traversing the jungles of Suriname, crossing its many rivers and climbing our own personal mountain. This is my reflection on our journey, through the ups, the downs, the good and the bad.
When we first came together in Miami, our first decision was to choose where to go to dinner. Already true to Sur 15 fashion, we argued over where to go. Some people wanted to go to the Cheesecake factory, a few wanted Cuban food and I just wanted a good old greasy American meal with a beer. Unfortunately, the four guys I talked into going for burgers and a brew were the first four guys to leave us early. If one of you four happens to come across, remember you were never forgotten.
After leaving staging in Miami, we finally set off for Suriname. At NAKS we were greeted by a rambunctious group of Sur 12s, 13s, and 14s who were gracious enough to give us koosus/pongis (Cristin Smith gave me mine) and alarmed us with their obsession with cheese. During our short stay at NAKS, staff dispersed our pictures on a map of Suriname to show us where we would be living for the next two years. There was excitement, curiousity and a sense of loss. After 10 days, making new friends, we were already being separated from some of those volunteers who would not be living in our region.
After NAKS, we went out to our respected regions to get our first impression of the area where we would be living. I will never forget that first night on the river. I stayed with Andy in Amakakonde and took my first night boat right that evening, a 20 minute trip north and then 20 minute trip back south between Amakakonde and Gengeston. And on night three, I remember meeting up with all the other volunteers on the river for our first fun day with our beloved Sur 14 grandpa who was offering beef jerky crumbs and gold bond anti-itch powder to the unsuspecting youngsters.
And then there was homestay. I know some people didn't enjoy homestay but my family and experience were good. After exhausting and sometimes frustrating four hour language classes each morning with Denise and Craig, the three of us would meet up with the other volunteers living in Asigron. Victoria-Asigron was quite a comical experience, six volunteers living close together, feeling out the culture, feeling out each other. I remember the first time we had to build a latrine and wash house for the village. Again true to fashion, there were four volunteers and four different opinions on how to get the job done. But it will be the afternoons in Victoria-Asigron that I will remember the most, drinking beers at Edel's shop with my fellow volunteers and the Guyanese construction workers, meeting up for ice cream or The Office marathon at Casey's house. And who could forget their first 3 hour church experience in Victoria? I know Craig, Denise and I never will.
Maybe the best thing that happened to our group was an administrative error. When our quarterly stipend checks didn't show up on time before moving into the interior, we were "stranded" in the city, unable to move to our villages. At this point, I felt there were a handful of people who I knew well, mostly through homestay. But with an extra week in the city with nothing constructive to do, living in an apartment suite at Stadz with five other guys which we called "Parbo Delta Parbo" I felt a real connection with the greater group for the first time in three months. There were days spent washing meat buckets with Cam, Ian, Shelly and James in the bathrooms at Stadz. We said goodbye to Mike. Ian, James and I crashed a random 60 year old's birthday party because they'd give us as much whiskey and food as we could stomach if we'd dance. Hopefully the video of that party never turns up on youtube.
After two weeks in the city, it was finally time to move to site. The journey to site should have been a forewarning that this job wasn't going to easy. While driving to Atjoni we popped a flat tire, when we arrived Catherine's cat escaped its holding box and ran into the jungle, after packing up our belongings into a motorized canoe our engine wouldn't start and when it finally did we travelled over an hour from Atjoni to Gunzi in the pouring rain. At this point, I was still feeling upbeat about things until I opened the door to my house and saw a termite nest the size of three American footballs attached to and chewing through my roof. Instead of unpacking, my first day at site was spent knocking down and spraying a termite nest. After a rocky first month at site, I remember most of us thinking what the hell are we doing here!?
I am not sure that question was ever really answered. But over time, it gradually unfolded itself differently to each person. For me, it was a personal journey, sticking with a commitment, overcoming challenges and adversity, and picking myself up from the ground (or the Suriname River) after making mistakes.
Near the end of year 1 of our service, we said goodbye to James. And almost, I left as well. I remember taking a weekend trip to the Cottica and not sure whether I'd take my vacation or just throw in the towel when I got back in the city on Monday. I was frustrated, frustrated with life in the village, frustrated with the lack of meaningful work, frustrated with Peace Corps in general. I definitely owe a lot to A.T. and Molly for hosting me that weekend and getting me through that tough time. Although I still feel my reasons for wanting to leave were legitimate, quitting would've been the worst decision I ever made.
Friendships were what got me through two years of Suriname. Friends in the village, in the city, returned Peace Corps volunteers, Sur 14s, 15s and 16s, and on the Peace Corps staff. In Sur 15, I had some great friends and some great moments. Fun days on the river will always be my most fond memories of times spent together--parties in Bendikwai and at the Tjaikonde zaal, up-river brokodays,
Gunzi fun days. And there were good times in the city--a field trip to the Paramaribo zoo, dance parties at Ian's, sports games at Rendezvous and of course, any night spent at Madonna's.
There were also plenty of good trips with friends--the lake, Langu, Commewijne, Gronigen. Definitely the most memorable trip was the epic two day boat trip up the Marowijne and Lawa river to reach Dave Scott's site, Gonini Kiiki Mofo, with Ron, Cheryl and A.T. Not even reaching the half way point to our destination, the five of us spent the first night outdoors at a little hammock camp with a Chinese store in the middle of the jungle. It was a cold night but at least the company and Brazilian beers were good.
Although I feel I had many good friends, my two besties were definitely my amigos on the Suriname River, Craig and Matt. I hope that in the States we can continue some of our mid-day phone calls and nonsensical and sarcastic text messages. It was always comforting to know there were two other guys out there just as bored as I was on Wednesday afternoons. I specifically remember one series of text messages where Matt and I debated what Saramaccans were actually doing in the jungle. After an hour of back and forth text messaging, we determined there must be a Target store with air-conditioning somewhere hidden in the jungle where our villagers go to pass the time. We'll find it someday. Visiting Craig and Casey in Zemoise, that place felt like a second home to me because so many people knew me in that village. There were many a good times spent there whether it was dancing at brokodays, The Killers dance party at Craig's house, boat rides up the river to Slee and tapa wata, walking in the jungle with Alogo or just hanging out.
Even though I did not mention all of them, everyone in Sur 15 contributed to getting me through these two years and I'd like to thank them for a quality two years. Some folks are already back in the States and I already miss the conversations we'd have in the office. Some folks are going back soon and I know I'll miss your company as well. Little by little, the table at Madonna's begins to become a little more empty, chairs filled up by new strangers who will become friends. Wherever you may be in the States, I hope you all will continue to live with that same tough attitude that got us to perservere through two years here in Suriname--whether it was overcoming personal obstacles, snakes, tough villages, etc. I've played a lot of sports and been involved with different organizations, Sur 15 we were definitely the toughest team I've ever been a part of. Waka bunu dee mati.
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