The first breath of City air.

Fun Day.

All the PCVs that live on the Upper Suriname River met at a tourist camp for two nights. Here we talked. Swam in the river like little kids. Layed in hammocks all day and did nothing. It was the first time I was able to see how pretty the jungle is.

In the City.

1. Party bus with with Dutch MDs and  the French Foreign Legion.

2. Micky D’s angus burger.

3. An American style grocery store.

4. Clubbing.

5. Speaking in British Accents during the whole game of kings.

6. Going to the movies and seeing Friends with Benefits.

7. Getting delicious dim sum and sitting on the internet all day.

That is about it. I really have nothing else to say.

Talk to you guys in a month when i get out of the jungle….again.

 

Been there done that.

Today I had  five twelve-year-old girls doing there nails in my house. I know I know and yes if you want to know they act just like any twelve years old girl. And for a minute I sat there in amazement of how much they reminded me of me when I was at that age. And let me tell you about the 12-16 year olds. They are just as mean as any other. Not trusting you, to afraid of what you think of them so they are going to make their dominance know before you can even say hi, all while I girl haze you. So that is precious as always. A healthy distrust.

 

So I have been on site for six weeks now and I have to tell you I feel pretty integrated into my community. I have walked deep into the jungle to help them tend their crops. I have broke, smashed, and cooked mipiaseeds to make cooing oil. I have pounded rice till my hands bleed. I have been fishing. I have grated, dried, and cooked cassava bread. And now I sew with all the women. Integration integration integration. Anyways now I am going back to the city for a little beer break, cheese, and shower break. Also it would be a good idea to stock up on some food.

 

I have finished the Six Feet Under series.

I am starting Hey Arnold!

I am reading “The Art of Being a Parasite”

And drawing my life away.

 

I really have nothing else to say.

Heres to becoming Hansefolo and leaving Julie at the dock.

Are you on the side there?

Are you there? I am here. You over there? I am over there? Are you right here? I am right here.

It has been two weeks today since I moved onto site. I don’t even know if I have the talent to explain what it was/is like is/was like. I arrive at the dock around five o’clock on the night of July 16th. I took all of my shit off the boat and started to carry one of my countless amounts of boxes up a hill to my house. The minute my village saw me they ran to the dock and grabbed the rest of my stuff. A couple women helped me set up my gas stove because you know a girl needs to cook. Once it hit 8 I was down for the count and passed out in my hammock. That’s all I really remember. Oh and just to let you all know. For the second time there was a death in my village and the body arrived on the day I arrive. BAM MAMMY.

The next couple of days I had a lot of interaction with kids and countless amounts of people that stopped by to look at me. They call me hansefolo which means beautiful flower. Who really knows what I was doing. Now that I have been here for two weeks I still don’t really know what I am doing. I have learned things. I have pounded rice that was picked and dried. I have learned how to rake my yard. I have washed my clothes and dishes at the creak and river. I have knocked mipa seeds (they make cooking oil with this). Umm I am learned how to sew thing. About five different people have braided my hair. I stayed up with my village for brooko da dea. The body is still here after two weeks but I think he is leaving soon. Umm what am I doing. I have started to show some of my personality like joking around with the kids and giving people faces when they be doing something. I have started to make friends around the village. I have started to find a groove around this joint. And as far as the language goes I wish I knew more so I could actually talk to the adults and have an adult conversation. But you know I am about the age of 9 right now because those are the people who can interact with me with out language. When I got her I was about 5 years old so I am moving my way up in this village. What do I do all day. Shit if I know. The people here probably think I am straight up lazy and I am. I don’t have to go to grounds to harvest my crops because I have food. I don’t need to knock mipa because I have cooking oil. But that is what these people do. Day in and day out they work it out. Shit I want to go work some fields. I want to row some boats. I want to do something around this joint. I can’t wait till I get some projects going. You know something to give me something. Damn Americanism I can’t live two weeks in a place without needing something to put my name on. Shit girl/boy.

So as far as integration. Have I intergraded? Hell if I know. Do the people like me. I think so. Shit. Welcome to life in the jungle.

To those who get it:

I have read bossypants by Tina Fey. Holla at my girl.

I am listening to the B.I.G.

I can’t buy peanut butter the next time I go grocery shopping because I can eat that shit everyday.

I am watching the series six feet under.

The movies Mozart and the whale and the Heathers were where it was at.

If you are still wondering what the beginning of my blog means because you need to be filled with all this knowledge and can’t let anything slide. They are greetings or odis that you give to people. So I will ask someone: Are you there? They will respond: I am here. That is how we work it out. You know. when I leave for the river and come back my neighbor is going to ask me if I arrived. And I am going to tell that girl yup I arrived. It might sound awesome and that is because it is.

Peace out from the middle of the amazon complete cut of from reality.

PST comming to a end!

Good Morning America,

I just came back from my last homestay experience with Thelma. It was all good in the hood. Oh side note. Each village gives all of us Peace Corps Volunteers nicknames. This nickname is our name when we are in that village, mainly because they cannot pronounce Rs. I have no clue why I left this out of my first homestay blog but here it is now. My nickname is feni-mia. The word mia means sister/sister-in-law. If I was a boy my name would end in pia. Then feni means varnish, yes wood varnish. That shinny stuff. It took me a while to figure out what my name meant mainly because explaining varnish to someone with limited language skills is hard to do. But she named me after varnish because it symbolizes beauty and cleanliness. Ya known.
Anyways back to my homestay. The first day we were back we got on a bus and went an hour down the road to the next village where two other Peace Corps members were having their homestay. There we meet up with the sports program director of Brokopondo and lead a little presentation about eating healthy food and cleaning your hands before you eat. Blah blah blah. The experience was great considering this is going to be our job for the next two years. After that the dutch interns or whatever had their presentation. Oh yea that is something I haven’t talked about the dutch people. I will make is short and sweet. There are a lot of dutch people here in the city. Some are on vacation. A lot are here as interns working for a government organization like the ministry of whatever. And there are a lot of dutch people who walk around the interior looking at the beauty in the amazon. That is all I have for you. They just show up from time to time in the mix of Surinamese people. Anyways after that was over we went home.
Day two. Soo. Suriname’s Independence Day is July 1st. It is called Keti Koti. It symbolizes the day the chains of slavery were broken and the people of Suriname were free. O.K. I wanted to save this for later but I will give you a little background information. In the 1600s, at some time, the Netherlands came to Suriname and set up sugar and some other plantations. (I don’t have the facts handy right now I am just going of the top of my head) Anyways, the Netherlands got a lot of slaves from Africa to work the plantations and like any story you hear about slavery the slaves were abused and no one was happy. So there ended up being a revolt. A lot of slaves brook free and ran into the jungle. The freed slaves would then go on missions to free other slaves and it turned into a war of sorts. Anyways the Netherlands sent people to battle the ruckus. They could not over take the free slaves, mostly because the westerners had less knowledge in jungle (as in the amazon) warfare. So, the slaves were freed and moved into the jungle. They are referred to as maroons. Five different cultures formed, each having their own language, traditions, and beliefs. I am living with the Sarramacan maroons. Now with that said Keti Koti is about breaking the chains and being freed. On the 30th of June we walked to the school because they were celebrating Keti Koti and had a field day. I went with a class and we ran around the school ground and the village on a scavenger hunt. My class didn’t win but it was fun watching the teacher and kids get into it. The kindergarteners played musical chairs and could not be anymore precious. The kids danced then ate junk food and it was all fun.
Day two point five. We had boat training. You have the options to own your own paddle boat if you live on the river. We went on the river and learned how to row a boat. Straight up not that hard. I mean I am going to get better with practice but it is not that hard. Plus I don’t know if I am going to buy a boat but it is just a cool skill to have. After that we went over to this huge tree in my village that hangs over the river and jumped off of it. Now when I say big tree I mean big and hang over the river I mean high. The kids put groves in the tree to climb up it which was a little scary but it was so much fun jumping in the water and feeling like a little kid. My mom told me that the piranhas live under the tree but whatever. I mean it sounds scary but piranhas, when they do nip at you, they don’t really break the skin, it is kind of a pinch and is annoying but so aren’t fire ants and everything else you have to get use to in the jungle. I wish I could get some pictures up here to show you because it would make my blog look really fancy. But seriously I am to lazy and lacking in internet time to mess around with it.
Day three. Welcome to July 1st Keti Koti. We had a great time with the village. They had a bunch of traditional things going on. Most of it I had no clue what was happening but it was really cool. One thing I do know is that I took part in washing with the villagers to clean ourselves from slavery and bring good luck. Basically, they had a boat with river water and grinded leaves and other liquids for us to wash with. They then poured the beer and other expensive drinks into the boat as a sacrifice to the slaves. All the Peace Corps members washed it up. From there we went over to another section where they had a weaved basket on two polls, you stand under the basket and they poor like this liquid concoction of probably more beer and sugar water and other stuff. After you go through that you get white paste thrown at you. This gave me good luck. Seriously a cool experience. We then ate all day, which isn’t different from any other day (because fatness is beauty here) and at night we all went to the meeting area where the kids put on a skit and we danced the night away.
Day four through seven. There was a lot of hanging out and playing with the kids. Lindsey who is also at homestay with me, lived like seriously a stones through away, was my homegirl for the whole time. We walking to the next connecting town to see another Peace Corps member, have a beer, and get away for a little bit. We also watched movies on my laptop with the kids, went for a run in the rain with a bunch of villagers, and hung out all day. The day before we left all five Peace Corps members and their host moms came over my house and we made them bamie, grill cheese, tuna melts, mac&cheese, and brownies. It was a great experience to say the least.

Now I am back in the city. Today July 7th we are going to the Ambassadors house for a fourth of July party where we will go on stage and take the Peace Corps oath. The president of Suriname will be their and other important figures in the government. I will get to meet some pretty important people and hang out at an extremely elegant home.

Yup Peace Out. Oh and sorry for the poor grammar that you see up in all my blogs I am to lazy to read them over and don’t really want to waste my internet time worrying about. I know you all understand.

Haging out

The city never sleeps. Well that isn’t true but the Sur17s never sleep. Here I am back in the dorp. We have had an over abundance of information sessions. Again. Some are helpful, others not so helpful. There are defiantly times where I am counter productive in the sessions. Oh well, everyone is human at some point or at every point. I really don’t know what that means. It is so nice that our group gets to chill for a couple months together instead of being at homestay. I have so many people to share my thoughts and opinions with and I get to hear what they have learned. I mean we are all we have for the next two years out in the interior.

The future

The Peace Corps headquarters in Washington has decided that Suriname is one of the countries to have its budget cut for the following group, Sur 18. This can mean one of two things: we are going to get a Sur 18 in 2013 or we are the last PCVs in Suriname. What does this mean? For one, we will not get a new PCV group at our 1 year mark to boast our spirits and moral. Only 23 PCVs will be in the whole country after the SUr16s leave, assuming we all don’t ET. (early termination of service) We will have to close all existing projects that Sur 15-16 have open and we will have to make our projects sustainable enough to last after our leave of service in two years. Whoa. Or we will get a late Sur 18 and somehow teach them how to manage projects in their 3 month training before our end of service. The Peace Corps doesn’t lie when they tell you that everyone’s Peace Corps experience is going to unique. That’s for sho.

And in a down market no one ever makes much.

Other then that we are getting our parbo beer consumption on and indulging in all things American or impossible to have in the interior.

Holla back youngin.

UPPER SURINAME RIVER

So here I am again. We don’t have working internet so I have to post my blogs all at once. And the only other thing i have been doing is chillen out in the jungle with only the hot hot hot heat to bother me. Oh yea that reminds me of this joke PCVs make fun of themselves for. I don’t really remember the joke exactly but it is something to the effect of “you will never read so many books in one year that you never want to read”. I already see how true this is. o.k. I should just tell the story of what I have experienced.

My life.
I can’t quit remember what I told you last but I bet it was real interesting, so I will interest you some more. I came back to the city area for two days after homestay (I know I told you about this), just before we went into the interior or the bush to see our new site

The Bush: 1. The jungle. 2. A place away from anything that resembles anything in the United States, and everything that resembles the Amazon.

This is an extremely detailed description so please read slowly. I know how overwhelming my writing skills can be.

We were finally told where we will be living for the next two years. I am going to be living on the Upper Suriname River. So let me tell you how I get to my site.

1.We start in the capital Paramaribo
2.We grab a wagi (bus) on Samaakastraat (the only place Saramaccans go when they make it out to the city)
3.The wagi ride is 4 hours long on a bumby ass rode (picture being squished in a tiny ass van thing with no air condition and car sickness)
4.Once we get to the Suriname river I then take a 4 hour boat ride to my site (not an American boat but a boat carved our of one tree with no cushion seats)

Now picture a boat cruzin 30 mph through the jungle and you can see what its like to be me. It is breath taking. I have to take pictures or a small video and post it but I am not yet comfortable enough to flash my American belongings out in Samaaka-ville.

I am getting ahead of myself. Before I visited my future site Brooke and I visited a Sur16, Michelle, who has lived on the river for a year. We stayed with her for three days and we got to experience what her daily life is like on the river. Her village unlike mine is Christian but nonetheless it was cool place to live, you can defiantly tell that she lives well with her villagers. Once the three days where up I left to go to my site all by my lonesome.

Site experience.
So I get on a boat with the other Sur17s and we all got dropped off along the river. Brooke got dropped off first. She lives about an hour walking from my site. Then we stopped at the next village where Shannon, a Sur16, lives. She got on the boat and informed me that there has been a death in my village and the body just passed by and we have to wait 15min to get to my site because no one other then the men responsible (whatever that means) can be present at the dock when the body arrives. So basically I got to my village at an inconvenient time. I mean who wants to be introduced to mourning villages with which you will be living amongst for the next two years. Not me I know that for sure. So I asked Shannon who speaks the language like a champ to aid me through this time. It might sounds like a copout but I was ok with wimping out in this situation and I don’t think anyone judges me for it. Anyways we found my house and met with my Captain who is also my counterpart.

Brief description:

Captain: the mayor of the village. If anything happens or changes or is being built it goes through this guy first. The job is given to the oldest man in the blood line of captains within each village.

Counterpart: someone who lives and is respected in the village and guides you through cultural integration. The cultural things can be how to act and dress during different traditional ceremonies. The counterpart can help with work related issues such as calling a meeting, running some sort of information session or finding out what the community needs. You can have multiple counterparts within your village to fill these roles.

Anyways I hung out for four days with my villagers. I learned how to cross-stitch and how to dry cassava to make cassava bread. All in all it was a good experience. Oh yea and I even baya (danced) at one of the brooko da dia parties at night (they party from 11 at night to 6 in the morning. Brooko da dia means break the day. So they party till the sun rises). Oh and they have a unique way of dancing, which involves a lot of hip movement. I have a lot to learn. I need to write a blog about all the cool cultural practices that are found in the Saamaka customs. I don’t really know them all so this blog might come moo lati.

I am back in the city for a week and a half with the other Sur 17s. Lets see how this goes.

Me nango. Me oo skifi u wan oto lacye. Moo lati. (I am going. I will write you one other time. More later.)

Thelma Tell ‘Em Whats Up

OK. HomeStay. That was a forreal experience. My host mom, Thelma, was in her sixties and a sweetheart. I had my own room-house-thing where I slept in a hammock for a straight week. This might not sound comfortable but seriously hammocks were where it was at. Like anything it was a bit awkward living with someone else but it was manageable. I learned so much about the culture and my language skills improved. Oh yea and Sarammacan women are tough ass women.

 

What did I learn/experience:

 

1. Taking a bucket bath
2. Washing my clothes in the river
3. Washing dishes in the river
4. Cooking pumpkin, fish, cabbage, cassava, coconut the Sarammacan way
5. Being over feed
6. Rowing a boat on the river
7. Rowing to grounds (where they plant all their fruits and vegetables)
8. Peeing in a pot because urine makes latrines reek
9. Using latrines
10. Sitting for a ridiculous amount of time
11. Slow life
12. Hanging out with 20 girls ranging from the ages of 2-30
13. Greeting every person you walk by
14. Drawing my house
15. Having the girls draw me pictures
16. Going to the city with my mom and sitting in a doctors office for a hot minute
17. Balancing(trying) a bucket on my head (anything you need to wash at the river)

 

There are probably a million other things that I experienced that I can’t remember.

 

After all that was said and done SUR 17 got together for water and guntrap safety training. When we all got off the bus and saw each other for the first time it was like Christmas. Our family of a group is wicked awesome.  For the water safety we took a boat out on the river, told to jump off the boat 75 yards in, and swim back to shore. That was a hoot at 8:30 a.m. After that we ate the ridiculous amount of food our moms packed us for lunch and took off for a little site seeing. Now life back at NAKS. A little relaxation and dance action.

 

A snap back to a little Americanism with my Americans.

 

O yea.

Baya means to dance.

Wagi is a bus.

A baya wagi is a dance bus.

I will be on one.

We have a song and dance for this object.

 

Mi Nango. (I am leaving)

GOING INTO THE JUNGLE

Sooo, finally we were told where our host families live and our LCFs (language teachers) hooked us up with some info about their family structure, which was very comforting. I be living in a traditional village, what what. I was told that my host family’s house and two other Peace Corps trainees’ houses are a stones throw away, which means English speaking time. With that said I am extremely excited for what my near future holds.

I have this bomb-dig LCF named MaryJane. This girl hooks it up with straight knowledge and an impressive teaching style while being pregnant and only twenty-five years old. Everyone knows that Sarammacan is the dopeness in terms of language in Suriname, others might disagree but who cares. I will teach you a word.

Koosu: a piece of fabric with an African or more commonly a plaid-ish print that you wrap around your waist like a towel, spanning from your bellybutton to just below your knee.

If you are proper Saramacain mujue (women) you rock this all day-everyday. The only problem is that you have to buy the fabric and hem the sides by hand. Not my cup of tea. So me and my homegirl Brooke whom I refer to as“MeNeDa” asked MaryJane if we could pay her mom to sew our koosus for us. She holled and when I got my fabric back my koosus were sporting some badass stitch work. One thing you have to know about my experience is that Surinamese women work it out.

Sunday, we are all leaving to stay with our host families for a week.

Language test when we come back.

PCV stay and future site visit for a week.

Say, “What up” to that.

Woo Meti.

What am I talking about…

YO!

NO INTRO.

The past week or so has been jam packed with traveling and introductions. I can only half think right now. I will try to describe my situation as a new Peace Corps trainee the best I can. I think I am going to list my experiences. No wait. I am going to list my experiences. (EDIT: there is no format)

Monday, May 2

I found myself on a plane to Miami for staging. There we handed in our paperwork that had clouded the feng shui of my desk since we receive our invitation kit. Then I got a good look at who SUR 17 was. Truth- they are all dope boy fresh and the place to be.

We received spending money to go out for dinner in Me-am-mi. I can’t speak for the others but the thought of eating your last meal in America for an unknown amount of time was a mind-bender.

The following morning we made our way to Miami airport where we spent the whole day from 6:00 AM to 12:30 AM looking at the inside of an… airport.

The Itinerary

1.Miami to Curaçao (5 hour layover but a beautiful island)

2. Curaçao toTrinidad

3. Trinidad to Suriname

4.Suriname airport to the “Peace Corps camp.”

 When we arrived to our dorm style living all the SUR 15s and SUR 16s were waiting to greet us at 2:00 a.m. After a little chit chat we hit the sheets.

 So there was May 4^th, 5^th, 6^th, and 7^th. Four days of meetings and info sessions. The amount of knowledge that has been relayed to us from both the staff and the current PCVs is substantial. No other comments. Wait I do have a comment. There are still info sessions to date. Those four days were intense. They are less intense now.

 There has been a change in how they are training SUR 17 from the previous groups. Instead of going to a host family after a couple days we are spending the first month together in a dorm style housing unit. So far it’s cool (I will probably have better feedback when we go to our site and start PVCing). Next, we will stay with our host family for a couple weeks and then visit our site for a week. I know there are other things we will do in between that I can’t remember but all-in-all it equals three months. Finally, we will swear in to become a PVC.

I hope I will become less vague as time goes on but right now that all I gots fo ya.

Highlights: getting our cell phone to call home; having allotted internet times to chat it up and write emails; learning what language we will be speaking at our future site (Saamaka); kicking it oldschool with the rest of SUR 17; visiting Paramaribo; buying pangis; parbo beer.

Things to work on: being less spacey with my blog.

Doubt it.

That’s all.

Woo meti (That’s bye in Saamaka).