PERSONAL UPDATE
“Hello” from sunny (sweaty) Paramaribo! The whirlwind that has been the last month gives me plenty of content to make up for the recent lack of blog posts. Unfortunately, I missed a couple days of Early Service Training (EST) because of my medical situation. About a week ago I managed to contract an infection in my arm, cellulitis, that caused my elbow to blow up to the size of my fist. The infection continued to spread down my forearm to my wrist, causing my skin to swell, turn red, burn and itch. Other wonderful side effects included fever and chills, nausea and pain. I was also concerned that my leg was broken after a very competitive (and unconventional) game of indoor soccer, played without shin guards, led me to kick the shin of an opposing team member while trying to kick the ball. My leg developed a bump like a baseball and bruised dark purple from my calf down to the bottom of my foot. Thankfully, the x-ray suggests that nothing is broken.
After a few days on antibiotics my body seems to be healing well; however, the various physical ailments also took quite a toll on my emotional state, so that last few days have been tough. Many thanks to those that offered supportive emails and phone calls—I’m getting through!
To keep my spirits high, I gave in and bought tickets to Sean Paul. If your not familiar with the performer, he is, in my opinion, a very mediocre pop/rap star from Jamaica whom I would not normally pay money to see perform. In light of the circumstances, however, that fact that he’s probably the best Western-style music act this country is going to see in the next few years, and that all of my friends here are going, I got on board! In support of this ridiculous endeavour, I decided to do some retail therapy Suriname style. This was, of course, limited by a very minimal amount of money, but it’s amazing what this country has to offer for next to nothing. I’ve got rhinestone-studded blue jeans, shiny shoes and hoop earrings. The outfit is absurd, but by local standards its Dior couture so I’m feeling fly.
MY RECENT ADVENTURES
In early September Suzie Kay and I visited two other Peace Corps volunteers in an Amerindian village near Albina in northeast Marowijne District. Located on the banks of the Marowijne River, the community was beautiful and very different from our Aucan (Maroon) site. Of note, the village is very quiet and spread out. There seems to be a very different understanding of personal space in the Amerindian culture—meaning that it actually exists.
On the second day of our visit, we took advantage of being just a short boat ride away from French Guyana and popped over to check out the market in Saint Laurent. Going through customs on the Surinamese side was a joke. Hundreds of boats cross the border illegally directly from Albina for a price of SRD $10. In order for us to cross legally, however, we had to ask about ten people where the immigration office was—because, of course, no one knew, walk way out of the way to get there, wait in line for the single immigration officer and pay SRD $20 to cross the river. All of this took about four times as long as if we would have crossed illegally. Plus, once we got to the French side, the customs officer asked us if we wanted one stamp or two, implying that he was happy to give us two stamps so that we wouldn’t physically have to come back to French Guyana for another visa run, if our papers required it. He followed this comment up by informing us that we had to get our money changed on the street (illegally) since the cambio isn’t open on weekends, but advised us to be careful because, and I quote, “they are black people.” Racism lives everywhere.
Ironically, the street hustler that converted my money ended up being my neighbor’s brother. That gave both of us a good laugh. The size of this country continues to boggle my mind. You can’t go anywhere, even across the French border, without meeting someone you know or are connected to in some way.
Once at the market, I immediately went into food heaven: There were lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, and a million other treats that Suriname’s limited variety does not include (with the exception of the American grocery store in the capital). In the middle of the market there’s a covered structure with a Vietnamese restaurant and fresh juice bar. Across from the market there was a bakery that sold baguettes and chocolate croissants. Most importantly, the local grocery stores there sell CHEESE. And I mean more than just Gouda! I. Went. Nuts.
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| Cheese in supermarket in Fr. Guyana |
We also visited the former prison camp and the waterfront nearby, where two abandoned ships made for some excellent pictures.
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| Old prison camp |
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| One of the abandoned ships, the one not sunk in the middle of the river. |
After a very refreshing trip to Albina and Saint Laurent, we returned to site. I had another opportunity to go to grounds with some of the local women where I planted ginger and taro. It’s great exercise, but exhausting. We’re smack dab in the middle of the dry season right now so the sun is grueling. My roommate and I have dubbed the period of 12:00 PM – 2:00 PM “survival mode time” because it takes most of your energy not to sweat to death in our zinc-roofed house. During that period, we usually give the kids the coloring books and some crayons or send them off to play elsewhere while we lay on our floor, trying to get as much of our body’s surface area in contact with the cold concrete. A few times I’ve given up and, during high tide, gone to lie on the submerged dock at the riverside. I realize this is not a culturally normal practice, but I’m still not fully adjusted to the heat. On one occasion the man who lives near the river called out to me and asked if I was dead. I quickly informed him that I was just hot and trying to cool down. I think my motionless body might have given him some cause for concern.
Next, we made a quick weekend jaunt down the Cottica River to attend a Puu Baka, a traditional ceremony in which the spouse of a dead person is pulled out of mourning by the community a year after their partner was deceased, in another village. The village leaders offer food to the spirits in the towe nyan-nyan ceremony and women dance in the faya uudu boto (fire wood boat) on the river to the beat of traditional drums. We were hosted by another Peace Corps volunteer and managed to booko a dei (break the day), dancing through the night until sunup with the rest of the village.
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| Myself (center), another volunteer and local woman that came to observe the ceremonies |
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| Women wearing beautiful pangis at the puu baka |
Most recently we’ve been on two trips: One to Redi Doti and another to the capital for Early Service Training (EST). The trip to Redi Doti, an Amerindian village near Brokopondo, was in celebration of a fellow volunteer’s 60th birthday. In Suriname, on your birthday you are expected to hold a party, hire a band and feed your friends. This particular volunteer and her husband were more than happy to oblige that tradition and even hosted about other volunteers for the occasion. The birthday girl sported her own hand-made ingri krosi (Amerindian traditional clothes) while villagers prepared cassava wine. We danced the night away at the local winkel and a good time was had by all.
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| The birthday girl in her ingri krosi |
The day after the birthday party, we all loaded up onto the lantibus to head back to the city. The trip over the long and mostly unpaved road was made longer by the ferry ride, which is a story in and of itself. Some years ago the government of Suriname decided to build a bridge across the Suriname River near Redi Doti. A week before the beautiful new concrete structure was supposed to open, a drunken barge captain plowed his watercraft into the bridge, ripping out the middle. Since neither the barge captain nor the government was willing to take responsibility for the damage, the busted bridge remains (unusable) and the ferry boat continues to be the only means across the river.
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| The bridge near Redi Doti |
The last two weeks have been jam packed with trainings on everything from project design and management to edutainment and how to use sport to facilitate basic life skills and professional development. Some of our community partners (from the various villages) came in to talk about Peace Corps and the role of the volunteer. My brain now floweth over with information—all of which it can not possibly retain, and I’m ready to take a few days to relax, eat and develop pictures before heading back to Ricanaumoffo!
Many, many thanks go to some of my former colleagues at UTC, who sent me a couple boxes of goodies and reading materials. Likewise, Mom and Dad are owed my gratitude for their most recent contribution. Lastly, a big hug to Ringa for graciously offering to send me a camera since mine broke last week. You are all amazing and you literally sustain me when I can’t fathom another plate of rice or pasta.
To those who’ve inquired, I could use the following items:
· AAA batteries (go through them like fat kids go through candy…blame the headlamp)
· Parmesan cheese (it will not spoil in the mail, don’t worry)
· Granola
· Beef jerky
· Coloring books and crayons (for the kids)
· Fashion magazines
· Ground coffee
· Grape nuts or other healthy cereals
· Gatorade powder
· Instant oatmeal (any flavor, even plain)
· Lara or Cliff Bars
· Pecans, almonds
· Dried fruit
· A frizbee (for the kids)
· SALSA …please!!!!!
· Canned chicken
Kelly Roney, I will send you a personalized email list :)
