Dan in Suriname

Like footprints in the sand it seems that our memories fade occasionally with the incoming tide.  I have always found that the people we encounter who have left a positive impression on us act as a breakwater to extend the life of our footprints a little longer.

The welcomed aspect of international travel is the ability to experience new geography, natural habitat, and diverse cultures.  I know I will forget many aspects of this short stay in the Amazon but it will be the people which contribute the most to those lasting impressions.  I’ve been fortunate to have met a variety of people during the past two years that I would otherwise not have met in my lifetime.  Some have been brief encounters while others have been forged relationships.  Even though names may be lost or forgotten over time I will forever be grateful for:

• The shy smile from a pre-teen girl after giving her a craft gift from my wife
• The cooking lessons that I received from my neighbor’s wife
• A cold soda and a dinner invitation from a visiting NGO
• Excited kids when being given new toothbrushes
• The warm handshake and kind words from a blind man after being served a meal
• The toothless laugh from a grandmother on my butchered language expression
• Being looked after by my Amerindian guides during my excursions into the bush
• A hug from non-American tourist just for being a Peace Corps Volunteer

That’s not to say that there weren’t instances where misspoken words or disparaging remarks were received.  However the positive encounters with people here in this diverse culture have far outweighed the bad.  As in all walks of life it is people and their impact on us who stand out in our memories.  I am most thankful for many of those which have been added to mine.

For those kind souls who have endured my blogs I will be making my final entry covering my PCV assignment in Suriname sometime next month.

Until then, waka bun (travel well).

Besides “What are you cooking?” this is the second most common question that is asked on a daily basis…..even by the PCVs themselves.  What are you doing today?  If my daily schedule was converted into a recipe it would be two parts dynamic to one part ambiguity with a touch of unstructured thrown in for good measure.  How one applies form to a weekly routine is really up to the individual PCV chef.

I have found that good neighbor projects could easily fill my calendar whether it is clearing brush for planting crops or helping with home repair.  To exemplify this, one didn’t need a translator to follow a recent conversation between a husband and wife as they strolled by a neighbor’s hut where I was working:

Wife:               “I see the Ajamaka family is getting a new roof.  When are we going to get ours fixed?

Husband:     “As soon as the Peace Corps Volunteer has some time to give me a hand.”

Beyond these opportunities for helping another villager my PCV assignment of Community Economic Development was pretty much undefined.  Projects could be identified by the PCV, village leaders, or an NGO asking for local support. Through networking and fielding a broad spectrum of requests during my two years I focused on four major projects: 1) providing computer lessons to various groups, 2) helping to start a bakery, 3) provide training on using solar materials, and 4) helping to facilitate the repair of a village water system.

I learned years ago from coaching various youth sports that a season will have its share of wins and losses.  Providing computer lessons occurred year round in four separate groups or sites.  For some adult students the novelty wore off after 2-3 sessions while for others it continues to be a bi-weekly event.  Like a young baseball pitcher the bakery had a strong opening for the early innings but through operation neglect it only lasted four months.  Training on the use and maintenance of solar materials was a refresher course for many villagers and one that only seems to be practiced after a short time in which the equipment is donated.  It’s kind of like stretching and warming up before a sporting event.  If the practice is ignored a promising athlete may experience an injury later during game time.  Lastly, the broken water system has taken almost two years as we first waited for grant approval and now continue to wait in the contractor’s work queue.

As I’ve stated previously I feel that I learn more than I teach on a daily basis.  Contrary to popular belief I was never lured into thinking that I could change the world as a PCV.  However the multiple smiles and handshakes that I receive after a joint activity is compensation enough and helps me answer that second question at the end of each day.

Years ago when I first met a beautiful and charming young woman I didn’t realize that I would later fall in love and marry her sister.  It was marital déjà vu all over again to describe my encounter with a second remote Amazon village.  A month ago I was sent to teach computer lessons in Apetina so another short chapter began in my Peace Corps chronicle.

Though it may be smaller than my host village, Apetina’s setting along the banks of the Tapanahony River is certainly more picturesque.  After an hour plane ride we touched down on the shortest airstrip in the country (340 meters).  For my brother-in-law it would be an easy 3-wood plus pitching wedge to the end of the runway with the river as a water hazard on the backside.  The Wayanas are the dominant tribe here so new vocabulary and expressions were added to my already diminishing brain capacity.  Maybe there is new hope for me during my next game of scrabble.

Medium-size rapids adjacent to the village made an ideal bathing spot.  The little kids gawked and laughed at the wooly mammoth white man when I came down to wash and I returned the favor watching them fearlessly dive and swim in the rapids.  Since my stays were in two-week segments my adult students agreed to have classes six days per week to optimize instruction time.  I used the little free time that was available to go fishing, see some of the natural attractions, and catch up on my reading.  One day when talking to one of the village captains I was touched by his response to my comment about the village’s tranquil setting.  Even though he was blind he quickly smiled and was appreciative of the compliment as he also enjoys the sound of the rapids and laughter emanating from the village.

I made several trips to Apetina over the last two months and I feel fortunate to have an opportunity to spend time with knowledge-hungry students, cultivate new friendships, and discover another little known Amazon treasure spot.  My host village and sister-in-law have similar characteristics (Lord knows she’s been fishing for compliments from me for thirty years) but I’ve been smitten for the second time in my life as Apetina has captured my heart.

Tranquil beauty + harsh economic reality = pretty hard life. 

Such is the conundrum for many villages in the interior.

The Amazon’s allure draws many a visitor to experience a vast undeveloped landscape combined with a virgin eco-system.  Upon closer inspection they find it is also an environment that includes no clean water, no electric power, no refrigeration, repressive heat, and isolation.  Most visitors acknowledge that it’s a nice place to visit but they wouldn’t want to live here.  For those native Amerindians scratching out an existence it is a way of life they embrace.  They value their freedom and autonomy and are willing to give up modern amenities in exchange for personal contentment.

So what are the lifestyle factors that one is faced with?  First is the cost of petrol; in the city a person pays $6 per gallon while in my village the going price is $18.  The primary reason is the requirement of air transport of all goods.  One must take into account an additional cost of $1.50 per pound when shipping anything (bags of cement, generators, outboard motors, etc.).  Another example is the limited frequency of outside visitors.  A chartered flight for four people is $1,600……one way.  One can quickly see that the viability of tourism as a source for economic development is limited.

For income several government ministries employ villagers as school teachers, medical technicians, a small military garrison, and village leaders.  In addition the elderly in the village (approx. 5% of population) receive a small government pension.  A few NGOs hire villagers to maintain their facilities or guest houses offering small stipends as compensation.  Other villagers may have opportunities to act as guides, boatmen, cooks, etc. when visitors do come for limited stays.

Because of the scarce number of income sources subsistence farming and hunting are the primary vocations of most villagers.  Since most farming grounds are several kilometers from the village anything that is harvested (casaba, bananas, wood for cooking fires, and game that is killed) is transported in palm leaf-made back packs. Women are the primary transporters and often carry loads up to 60 lbs.

Families who want their children to pursue additional education after primary school must send them to the city to live with family or close friends only having occasion to return for a few months during school break.  The medical clinic is prepared for many mishaps; broken bones, deep cuts, snake bites, etc. but for more serious medical emergencies it requires a four hour plane ride (2 hours out to the village for pickup and a 2 hour return flight).  Last November eye surgeons from the city visited and two hundred villagers received eye exams for the first time in their lives.  Twenty more had cataract surgery performed locally for the first time at the medical clinic.

In previous blogs I’ve shared many photos of the pristine jungle and natural habitat that these villagers welcome as their home.  One can only admire them for accepting this austere lifestyle even though hungry mining and lumber companies continue to knock on their door with the promise of jobs and compensation.  In many respects this is not any different than what is happening in our own backyard (Alaska) where rivers in which sockeye salmon spawn are threatened by the close proximity of open pit gold and copper mines.  The Amerindians in southern Suriname continue to work on finding a happy medium where improvements can be made in their education and standard of living while their cultural lifestyles and unspoiled environment can remain protected for future generations.

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.