Dan in Suriname

It has been two weeks since I left Dan after our time together in Tobago.  He decided to take off a little more time and asked me to do the guest blog for January.  Well, it seems like there is nothing like falling snow in Oregon to urge me on to sharing the wonderful time we had in the Caribbean!

Tobago and her larger sister Trinidad are located 77 mi. north of South America.  At one time they were joined to S.A. by a land bridge and so share much of the beautiful flora and fauna.  They are the southern most islands in the Caribbean chain and are bounded by the Atlantic and Caribbean oceans.  Tobago is home to the oldest nature preserve in the western hemisphere creating a verdant paradise, largely untouched by commercial tourism, on this 26 mile long by 7 mile wide island.

Dan got great info to stay in the fishing village of Charlotteville.  Located on Man o’ War Bay on the Caribbean side, Charlotteville was a perfect destination for a much needed vacation and reunion.

Dan arrived a few days before and stocked the kitchen, met the locals, and found the charms the village had to offer.  He snagged the best room in the guest house which allowed us full access to the tradewinds and a balcony that overlooked our neighborhood and views to the bay.

We had no trouble adjusting to the pace of life in Charlotteville.  Walks to the community beach, waving to locals as we got to know them, conversations with our warm, friendly, helpful staff, and views of our neighbors Christmas lights.  The night breeze carried reggae music for the village to hear, roosters crowing regardless of where the sun happened to be, and laughter and conversation on the street below.

To give you an idea of how casual life is, when Dan decided to make reservations at a local restaurant, Sharon and Phebe’s, we learned the real pace of  life in Charlotteville.  Located in a colonial style building with wide open verandas overlooking the bay, Sharon and Phebe’s was recommended for the great local food and ambiance.  Dan inquired about Christmas eve dinner for 7 (another Peace Corps volunteer and family were arriving).  ‘No problem’.  “Do you have a menu?”  “No, but we will have a variety of dishes; chicken, fish, pork….”  “How about 7pm?”  “No problem.”  “Do you want  a name?”  “No, we will be ready for you”.   And they were and the food was fabulous with a lot of local favorites and icy cold Carib beer.

We were able to get fresh Kingfish as the fishermen brought in their catch and we spent long days at the community beach.  We had a favorite spot just feet from the ocean right next to a shop selling drinks (more Carib) and wonderful fish and chips.  Our bench was wide enough for a few games of banangrams and gin rummy.  And we had the opportunity to have mango pieces rain down as parrots enjoyed the remaining manoges on the tree above us.

The lack of commercial tourism and friendly people helped make Charlotteville a wonderful location for ringing in the New Year; on the beach with a cold Carib and sharing a fresh fish and chips.  Dan and I have had the good fortune to spend many New Year’s Day together in wonderful places, sharing experiences and conversations, and Tobago was a perfect addition in this life together and adventure apart.

In my previous life whenever I toured a craft fair there were occasions when I would indignantly tell myself, “Heck, I could make that.”  As I’ve become older and wiser, and through unsuccessful creative attempts, I realize that I can’t.  I still make things for personal use only now I place even greater value on the creations of others whether they are fruit preserves, a knitted afghan, a bookcase built from scratch, or the creation of a storage vessel from a lump of clay.

Spending time with my villagers as they go about their day to day lives has allowed me to observe a different set of creative talents.  Making homemade baskets, cotton hammocks, or carving wooden paddles and canoes for utilitarian reasons is a common activity.  Because one man’s tool is another man’s treasure some villagers have taken advantage of occasional visiting tourists to sell jewelry or a bow and arrow.  Thinking I could leverage this activity to create local commerce for the greater good unfortunately fell on deaf ears.  There was just no interest in learning the nuances of my chosen sales and marketing profession.

During the past several months I met a few old men who wanted to test my vocational skills so I took a few of their items into the city to see what I could sell.  The retail stores only stocked mass produced items so I decided to follow the Avon sales model and sell to a select audience of fellow PCVs or staff members.  Since many of them had shopped around for gifts and souvenirs they placed greater value on homemade crafts.  Even though they knew there was a blemish here or a crack there it only added uniqueness to the item’s creation.

Returning to the village with sales proceeds in cash and additional orders brought smiles to the wrinkled faces of the old men.  They were more open to my suggestions to increase prices on select items and not try to market others with poor quality.  Their crafts will never show up on a Pier 1 Import shelf but maybe that’s OK.  I realize the limitations in sustainability when I eventually leave but short term there is money which stays in the village and the artisan’s renewed confidence in the marketability of their Amerindians crafts.  Who knows?  Maybe a small entrepreneur seed may take root and eventually grow.

One Saturday morning I received an impromptu invitation to go on a three day hunting and fishing trip.  With an hour notice I collected my hammock, threw some things in a pack, and joined four other men in a motorized canoe heading south towards the Brazilian border.  After traveling for two hours and navigating several rapids we stopped to make our camp.

The scenery was pristine and the wildlife abundant (a so called target-rich environment).  I helped to clear some underbrush and then watched two Amerindian friends construct a tent from the surrounding natural vegetation.  It was like viewing a film in fast-forward mode as they quickly cut poles, vines, and palm fronds to make a protective shelter to hang our hammocks.

They brought minimal food so hunting and fishing started shortly thereafter.  Cooking fires were soon roasting an assortment of game including caiman, piranha, and large birds.  That night we were treated to a jungle chorus of howling monkeys which make an eerie sound perfect for any horror movie.  The next day I joined the group for a four hour trip into the bush and then spent the afternoon fishing.  Since one objective was to bring food back to their families they began smoking their game meat to extend their shelf life.  A large turtle was captured but not killed.  They suspended the shell off the ground with vines in order to return to the village with live game the following day.

Our palm tent saved us from a down pour that night.  Early the next morning I joined two fishermen in checking a few gill nets and a number of secured lines that we had set out with bait the night before.  After returning to camp with more fish we rendezvoused with the hunters who placed a couple of monkeys and more birds into the canoe before we headed home.  The return trip included an hour of drifting and more fishing prior to arriving at the rapids.  We stopped to cool off from the repressive heat and then reached the village in the late afternoon.  In reflecting on the short camping trip I realized that I finally saw a glimpse of the true wildness of the Amazon.  It is an amazing eco system and a major source for sustaining the lives of these Amerindians.

Whether you call it tough love or subservient friendship dogs in my village seem to be treated like estranged step children.  It probably comes as no surprise that the two major purposes for their existence is providing home security and hunting in the bush.  I learned early that you never touch a dog as you don’t know which variety of fleas or parasites that they are carrying.  I also soon recognized that canine obedience schools are non-existent.  Instead of verbal reprimands disciplining dogs come in the form of rocks or sticks thrown by their owners who tend to be good marksmen.

During the past eighteen months I’ve not found one dog where you couldn’t see a notable outline of their rib cage.  They roam from yard to yard in the morning and early evening hours looking for scraps of any kind (fish heads, animal carcasses, old cassava bread, etc.).  Also, whatever emotional void a female canine experiences with humans is compensated by the unlimited affection she receives from a hoard of male suitors.

By their very nature these dogs seem to ignore the limited attention they receive while demonstrating unrestrained loyalty towards their owners.  I saw a canoe of women going downstream to their farming plot and 50 meters behind them came three dogs swimming and yelping trying to catch up as they didn’t want them to be alone in the bush.  When going hunting multiple dogs will energetically go off in different directions while the hunter listens to the tone and intensity of their barking to determine his tracking route.

In mirroring the hardened lifestyle of their owners an Amerindian dog leads a tough life.  Since they don’t know any differently, waking each morning to a new day and having the fortune of being alive turns out to be a beautiful thing.

San yu bori tide?  One of the most common questions you are asked multiple times between sunrise and sunset here in Suriname.  Not that your neighbors are nosy about what you’re planning to eat…….but many times they ARE.  During my first month in the village many of them would hover, not unlike the bears at Yellowstone Park, hoping you would share your meal.  I’ve followed the practice of the U.S. Park Service, “Do Not Feed the Bears”, as many of them will never go away from your front porch.

It’s no surprise that the basic meal staple here is cassava bread which a starchy source of carbohydrates.  It can have a long shelf life and is good for soaking up broth but its main benefit is filling up a stomach.  Bush meat and fish are the prized entrees. However, I’m only able to source them about once a week.  Sometimes one might be fortunate to find smoked meat or fish which will last a bit longer but most villagers enjoy it “well done”.

After one work party we sat around and shared some smoked bush meat.  I felt like a guest at the Griswold Family Christmas dinner table politely nibbling on brittle charcoal meat while a guy closely resembling Cousin Eddie reminded us (in local language), “Now Clark, make sure you save the neck for me…..it’s the best part”.  I’m sure my brother-in-law will howl when he hears that one.

So what is bush meat?  It could be any of the following:  turtle, caiman, otter, monkey, eagle, pingo (bush pig), tapir, deer, or konkoni (rabbit).  Each of them has a distinct taste and nothing that you would confuse with chicken.  I’m sure Bobby Flay or Emeril Lagasse from the Food Network Channel would have all types of recipes for these exotic dishes but mine are pretty basic.

On occasion I will wake in the middle of the night thinking that I smell pulled pork BBQ, grilled Pacific salmon, lamb chops, or sweet potato casserole and smile once I realize that it was just a dream.

When I occasionally tire of my isolation I am quickly reminded of its unique benefits when observing wildlife.  Capturing these animals and insects on film is often difficult as many are either too shy or their sightings are so brief.

Such is my normal encounter with macaws, toucans, and green parrots.  These birds all know they are the common prey for the Amerindians so I’m content to be able to see them overhead in flight.  In earlier blogs I’ve shared sightings of larger animals whose images were captured from camera traps placed several hours away from the village.  The remaining wildlife that I photograph are much smaller and less likely to show up on the dinner table.

It’s probably no surprise to hear that the smaller critters always seem to find a way into my house.  This is no easy feat considering it is raised two meters off the ground which seems like a reasonable deterrent.  Even though I have a platoon of geckoes patrolling my walls and ceiling a few insurgent pests always get through.  They are not unlike the squirrels and moles that I get in my yard at home only a bit creepier.

There are other one-off moments where I’m in the right place at the right time.  An example was when I was in the bush helping to cut wood planks.  During a break a dark blue, almost florescent, butterfly that was larger than my hand hovered within five feet for a few moments before continuing her journey.  Another time I saw two iguanas playfully wrestling with each other.  By the time I could get my companions attention they were gone.

Seeing all these creatures up close versus watching them on the Discovery Channel or at the zoo makes this Amazon experience even more special.

In late June a bush pilot complained of some ruts in Kwamala’s airstrip so it was subsequently closed.  Normally I would give this very little attention except that I was expecting boxes of food that I had purchased during my last visit in the city.  I had returned with a couple of boxes but was not allowed to take the others due to weight limitations.

When the shutdown continued into the second week I decided t suspend our computer classes and volunteer to work on the grounds.  It reminded me of the saying, “Those who step forward to volunteer obviously didn’t understand the question”.  I say this knowing that the tools for maintenance were limited to rakes and shovels……but I didn’t know of the robust turnout of only 10-15 men (in a village of 250).

My first days of work were like a Marx Brothers movie.  Our leader had us collecting and spreading sand in holes and in between grass clumps.  The next day, after a short conference, we found ourselves digging up those same grass clumps and hauling them away.  A dozen members of the local army unit joined but only for the day.

Our limited progress along an 800 meter airstrip was noticeably slow so they went to Plan B.  Late in the second week school was cancelled and 150 kids were added to our labor ranks.  This had the added effect of infusing guilt in their parents who decided to pitch-in for an hour or two.  The kids were a great help but the next day we were back down to a dozen men.  We even started digging to a rhythm resembling a roadside chain gang (minus the guards with guns).  I chuckled and was a bit envious when I saw a few escapees slip away when the airstrip station manager wasn’t looking.

So how does one eat an elephant?  The answer – one small bite at a time.  Towards the end of the third week our persistence paid off and the airstrip was operational again.  I’ve had enough elephant leftovers for a while but I could definitely go for a nice Greek salad.

It’s been a year since I first arrived in Kwamala with my primary duties which were to provide computer training to assigned NGO sponsored staff.  During the past several months the total number of students fluctuated from 6-9 and it is not uncommon to have turnover so everyone is often at different phases of learning.

The training consists of 1:1 tutoring in MSWord and Excel using a single laptop.  This past March I was fortunate to have family members donate an older model they weren’t using.  Even though I would love to have more computers there is a shortage of power in this remote village as our equipment relies on solar panels and batteries.  Sessions are held Mon-Fri from 8 AM – 1 PM with most students signing up for three 1 hour sessions each week.

Language and terminology has interesting challenges as it is not uncommon to use a combination of Sranan, Trio, Dutch, or English…..sometimes all in the same sentence.  I’ve learned that both Sranan and Trio are languages more commonly spoken and not written.  This is challenging for both reading and writing as I encourage note taking to support a key objective of sustainability.

Most students are in their thirties however I will assist them if they want to teach younger family members during the weekends.  As one would expect interest levels vary once the novelty of using a laptop wears off.  With internet access via our satellite dish I only recently began introducing a few of the stronger students to email.  Available languages with Google and MSN make this tool even more limiting so I will be expanding our curriculum to include common English email terminology.

As you can imagine the technology can be intimidating at times so I’m hoping the students will gain confidence as they begin navigating this unchartered territory.  Having never been a trained educator I am learning as much as my students who offer me a smile when I say to them, “Ji-wëenpa-se-wae” (I work hard to learn).

It may come as a surprise for you to learn that Peace Corps Volunteers seem to have an abundance of time to apply towards creativity.  During my first year of assignment I funneled my spare moments on ideas of what to do with my garbage.

The standard procedure is to compost or burn as much as you can and then bury the rest.  However like many of my peers I always seem to have a need to store a collection of items around the house.  I figured any can or container that I could put to use meant one less item went into the ground.

Hardware and department stores should not feel threatened as I don’t plan on pursuing any patents nor am I planning to defend any intellectual property rights for these ideas.  This blog is uncharacteristically short since I felt the attached photos were self explanatory.  I’ve shared my recycle ideas with others in the village but was met with straight faces and a response in local language that basically means, “You obviously have too much spare time on your hands”.

I now have a sense of how Noah felt when it began to rain……a lot.  In late May the village received four inches in 24 hours but was also impacted from harder rains upstream (8” during the same period).  The combination caused local creeks and rivers to rise over two meters.  No one exhibited any panic other than running to set out their fish nets around a small lake taking shape in the village that was previously a meandering creek.

After rescuing the last three tomatoes before my plant was submerged we decided to disassemble the satellite dish that provides internet access at the park guard cabin to safeguard the electronics.  A wise decision since the dish itself quickly went to periscope depth.  Fortunately the water levels peaked six inches below the floor of my house.  It reminded me of living on a houseboat as I simply opened the gate off my deck to go swimming, wash clothes, or clean dishes.

In the mornings and evenings I enjoyed a beautiful lake front setting.  Just like a tourist bus stopping at a local diner a group of white egrets descended in an aerial assault at the all you can eat breakfast bar on top of the bushes where all the bugs had climbed to escape the water.  Neighbors would paddle up to my deck in their canoes to ensure that I did not feel stranded.  I’m told that flooding is a normal occurrence during the rainy season so naturally I am now researching blueprint plans for an ark.