Protein

The jungle has many advantages but good nutrition, unfortunately, is not one of them. Many children have big bellies, which I recently discovered occurs when a lack of protein forces the body to consume the abdominal muscles as a source of amino acids. Since Peace Corps volunteers live with the people, we face some of the same challenges, though with multivitamins from Doc and a basic knowledge of nutrition we are better off than many.

Volunteers go to great lengths to avoid the scraping of their muscles in place of protein. For my first few months, I amassed a stockpile of beans, peas, lentils, and canned meat. Other volunteers have become small-scale chicken farmers to add eggs to their diet. I literally plan my meals around different protein sources or to make up for pasta night (Thursday). Even so, I estimate that I only eat a little over half the protein that I need.

Protein must be bought or caught, and on my Peace Corps allowance, caught meat is more desirable. Desperate about the potential loss of abs, I went to Tomahawk, a hunting and fishing store in the city. Volunteers are not allowed to use guns, so as far as obtaining meat, the fishing section was for me. The clerk needed to explain practically everything. My dad took me fishing when I was young, but even then I seemed to catch more ducks than fish. Well, I suppose it was actually two fish and one duck, but still. Eventually I walked out with a simple rod and reel, extra string, a few hooks, some weights, and working knowledge of how to tie a fishing knot.

It did not begin well. On my way home from Tomahawk, the line became impressively tangled. I learned a lot about knots that day. After much cutting and reeling and un-reeling and experimentation, I figured out how the reel works. Casting, however, was a splendid failure on my first day out, yesterday, and today, I realized that I had to hold the line before swinging the pole.

Nevertheless, meat came. Today I caught my first fish in eighteen years. It was an eleven-inch piranha, naturally. Such are the everyday adventures in Amazonia. As I reeled it in, I yelled excitedly to my friend, “Look, I caught a fish! What kind is it? Can you eat it?”

“Yes,” he said, “ Yes, you can eat it, but watch out, it can eat you too!”

He then helped me clean my prize, of which I was also clueless. So, tonight I will have poached piranha…if I can figure out what “poached” means.

Passage by Water

Where I’m going, we don’t need roads. In fact, we don’t have any. Diitabiki has two possible modes of entry, air and water. Flying is convenient, reliable, relatively safer, faster, and only slightly more expensive than traveling by boat. Given the options and my thirst for adventure, it is surprising that I’ve flown at all.

As expected, my first boat trip to my site took a full three days. On Thursday, November 6th, I and two other volunteers in my region left early in the morning to find a van to take us to the town of Albina on the Marowijne River, which separates Suriname from French Guiana. We arrived at about noon, and though we found someone we knew, his boat was full, and there was no oil besides. So we did what we have learned to do when presented with impossible situations; we sat down and talked with people. As usual, this opened the necessary doors, and by 2 PM, we found ourselves with free passage on a boat heading our way.

The broad, dark river lined with high walls of deep green Amazon Rainforest was beautiful, as always, though very treacherous with the low water and exposed rocks in the dry season. For larger boats, such as the thirty foot dugout canoe on which we rode, the rapids presented a major challenge. At one point, we saw a boat of similar size recently capsized and a small fleet of canoes helping them salvage floating barrels and boxes of goods. The choice to leave my computer in the city was a good one.

Well after dark, we landed at a campsite along the river. The camp consisted of a tin roof with low rafters to which about thirty of us river travelers tied hammocks and hoped for few mosquitoes. At sunrise we rose, quickly stuffed our hammocks in our bags, and set off. With no traffic on the river in the morning, the dark water perfectly mirrored the jungle on the banks. We passed rugged, cantankerous looking structures on pontoons harvesting sand from the riverbed in search of gold. At the largest of the rapids, I helped the crew unload several oil drums to lower the weight of the boat as we ascended the surging water. We arrived at the first of our sites at the point where the Marowijne separates into the Tapanahony and Lawa rivers around midday Friday, spending the afternoon and evening exploring and visiting and spending the night in her house.

The next morning the two of us remaining found a boat to take us down the Tapanahony as far as the Futupassi. Gaanolo Sula is an impassable cataract on the way to Diitabiki. Travelers are forced to portage along a footpath, known as the Futupassi to continue, and this we did. For the final leg of our journey, we found a boatman from Godolo, beyond Diitabiki who brought us to our sites. I finally arrived home at about 3 PM on Saturday, November 8th, three days since we set out.

On A Mission

While I was in training, four months ago, heavy rainfall caused a major flood on the Tapanahony and Lawa rivers. As a result, the five of us in the area were unable to visit our future sites before we swore in. The Surinamese Red Cross distributed food to the area as most of the farms had been completely destroyed. While very much needed, however, the food distribution did not address the long term effects of the crop damage.

After coming to Diitabiki in August, Red Cross decided to partner with Peace Corps to assess the food situation on the Tapanahony a couple of weeks ago. We flew to the capital from our sites for a five day training on food security to help us judge the vulnerability of our communities. It was an international mission, and Red Cross workers from Belize and Jamaica joined us in Paramaribo. We also teamed up with other organizations such as the Inter-American Institute for Cooperation on Agriculture (IICA), which had far more specific expertise and had been working in the region for a long time.

After training, we went for three days to the region. There were a few challenges, such as the Red Cross volunteer assigned to work with me spoke Dutch and Sranan Tongo, and I speak English and Aucan, but we were able to find some good information, some of which was surprising to us even after living there for three months.

Partnering with other organizations is one of the aspects of my service that makes me most excited. Even in the short time that I have been here, I have seen organizations come to my site for two or three days and leave with little long-term effect. Most development workers do have a genuine concern for the people they work with, but without the ability to spend a lot of time in one area, it is hard to make ideas stick. The hope that we have is that Peace Corps volunteers living in the hinterland can help reinforce the efforts of other organizations to make them last. As a rule, I am skeptical of the effectiveness of any development effort, but I try to do my best and keep the effectiveness of the results in mind so that I can learn about what does and does not work. Soon I hope to work more with the Pan American Health Organization (PAHO), IICA, and UNICEF. We will see what we can do by working together.

A Busy Week

Peace Corps volunteers generally read a lot, even if they rarely read before their service, because the pace of life in many other countries is slower than it is in States. There was one recent volunteer in Suriname that read over three hundred books during his time in country. That’s at least three a week!

I am a reader, yet the only time I find to read is either in the early afternoons, when it is too hot to do anything else, or in the last hour before bed. Perhaps this is because there is always something to do in my village or because I just take a long time with the ordinary things of life, cooking for instance. My colleagues usually complain about having too much free time. I would almost like a little more.

Because of warden training and the Peace Corps Director’s visit to Suriname, I had only one week at site in between trips to the city. During the week, however, I had even less time than usual. On Sunday I helped a group of men clear rainforest for a building. I learned useful information about wasps and ants and how to cut Makah palms by using a forked stick to direct the thorny falling branches away for one’s head. It is actually quite impressive how quickly four people with machetes can bushwhack. I love it, and I had to be told twice when to take a break out of the afternoon sun because I go so involved hacking away. On Monday I went with one of my neighbors for a forty-five minute boat ride into the jungle to where he cuts and mills lumber. I really enjoy being on the river. In a sense, the jungle is all the same, yet there are always new things to see wherever I go. I helped carry some planks and posts with my neighbor and his sons, and he gave me a few to use on my house. All day Wednesday and Thursday, the Inter-American Development Bank hosted a seminar on Decentralization and Local Government Strengthening. It was taught in a mixture of Aucan and Dutch, which became very difficult to follow towards the ends of the days. Nevertheless, seventeen local leaders, one of them being myself, are now certified trainers in Civic Participation. While I’m in the city, I’m going to try to find an English version of the training manual, so I can help explain a few things.

Fortunately, I had all day Friday to clean and prepare for my city trip. Maybe in the city I’ll get a chance to read.

Just Another Day in the Jungle

As I have mentioned before, I did not come into the Peace Corps with the expectation, or really even the desire for the stereotypical “Peace Corps experience,” yet I have to admit, life in the rain forests of Suriname is really cool. Tourists come almost every week from Europe for a two or three day taste of life here.

I just finished sharpening my machete after a day of clearing jungle. Machetes that are well used in the bush become black, and mine is starting to turn quite dark. I can now cut down young, but rather strong trees with relatively few strokes, though it takes me longer than the people who have grown up here. I named my machete, “Durandal,” after the unbreakable sword in The Song of Roland, a medieval epic poem. Like any good sword, it rings when it strikes.

The last couple of days I have made river trips to a nearby village and a lumber site, deep in the forest. Because I live in essentially the capital of the Ndjuka, we have two means of transportation: air and river. Most villages only have the river. I love traveling on the river in dugout canoes. They are heavier, and thus, harder to paddle than aluminum, though. Eventually, I would like to buy a canoe to make my own river adventures. Rapids are very common of the Tappenahony, especially when the dry season lowers the water level. They were originally a source of defense for the Ndjuka people escaping the Dutch slave plantations in the north. It will take some time to learn to navigate the river.

My house is a one-room wooden structure with a zinc roof. The walls are very low, and the roof rises to a steep vault. The rafters structure are roughly cut young trees that remind one of a rustic lodge. It seems long and narrow because of the roof structure, though it is les than twice as long as it is wide. Because of its architecture and proximity to the rain forest, I call it, “Jungle Hall.” Since my house is so small and since the zinc conducts the sun’s heat very well, I will be spending almost all of my time outside, using the structure for sleeping, and as a storehouse for up to six months worth of food. The front of the house was originally carved and painted in traditional Ndjuka designs, but this is barely discernable now. I think the designs are beautiful, and if I cannot find someone to help me paint it thus again, I will paint it white with green trim in the spirit of the original dwelling.

In my free time I read good literature, study geography, and write.

A Note on Updates

I have been in my remote site of Diitabiki in the interior of Suriname and completely out of touch for about the last month. Usually I will be out of touch for up to three months, but recently I came down with dengue fever, so I have some time in the city. I type up blog entries in advance, however, and publish them whenever I get the chance, modifying their date stamp to the time that I wrote the article.

Pictures can be found here at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/michael.brannagan/Suriname

Dengue Fever

For the past week or so I have been out of commission with dengue fever. This is a rare disease for the interior, but my Surinamese counterpart got it too. I was able to take care of myself, partially out of necessity, for the first three days, but on the fourth day, the care of one of my neighbors, Heni, was greatly appreciated.

On the first night, last Friday, I had a 102 something fever, but I felt a little better during the day. I rested for two days, but got stir crazy by the third, and I tried to work, as much as I was able, on my house. Just after talking to my parents on the phone, however, I fainted. It actually must have looked pretty funny saying, “goodbye,” going to hang up the receiver, and collapsing before it landed on the hook. Then I decided to go to the clinic.

Fainting made many of my neighbors worried, and they insisted that I go to the city. The Peace Corps Medical Officer thought I should too. For a week, I get to recuperate in the city, reading books on African history, watching international news, and eating food not prepared by me. I also have used my time to talk with UNICEF and PAHO people about potential projects in my area, and I’m planning on helping organize the Peace Corps library if I can.

How to Cook

Before I say anything about my experiences of cooking in the jungle, let me recommend that one should always make sure that what appears to be sugar is indeed sugar and not salt. Not checking makes for very bad pancakes indeed…and even worse syrup. In my last few days in the city I went on a desperate search for food in an attempt to purchase all I would need for three months. At one market I grabbed several unmarked plastic bags of what I assumed to be flour and sugar.

The truth came out. I decided to make pancakes on Saturday, in keeping with an old family tradition, for the first time on my own. After a long hour of gathering all ingredients, meticulous, measuring, careful mixing, and intense cooking, I arrived at the table with a plate of pancakes, a small pitcher of syrup, a cup of tang (in place of orange juice), and French-press coffee. When I tested the syrup, however, I found to my surprise, that I had concocted an excellent mixture of highly concentrated salt water. Alas.

Other attempts to provide sustenance for myself have met with success, such as baking bread on a stovetop, which I thought was tricky, and Tuna Alfredo a la Macaroni, dined to Mozart, of course, which I thought was classy. I have not yet resorted to hunting, but with the roosters continuing to crow at 3:30am, we’ll see how long that lasts.

The Posh Corps

So I sign up for the Peace Corps and they assign me to…paradise? I found myself sunbathing on a smooth, warm stone in the middle of lush Amazonia, surrounded by the sound of the swift-running river on all sides, later seeing two wild red macaws soar overhead. Talk about a tough post.

My house, to make up for it all, is actually only one room, and it does need a bit of work before I can live there, but in the mean time I’m staying in a very comfortable guesthouse with a kitchen sink, 24-7 electricity, and a shower, which has been very welcome.

The flight to Diitabiki in a Cessna was the most exciting plane ride I can remember, and I’ve been on a few. I sat just behind the pilot, so I could see out of the front of the plane as well as all the instruments. At one point the clouds seemed to fly by (I think they were flying, actually), and I saw that we were cruising at over 160 knots. This Cessna peaked at 172. The pilot, however, knew what he was doing. We took a very sharp U-turn almost immediately after we passed the landing strip and touched ground purposefully but smoothly.

Off To Work!

Soon I will begin my journey towards the very heart of Suriname on the long road…er, river to Drietabiki. Wednesday afternoon, I will actually be flying by Cessna, but normally, the five of us in the area first have a three-hour bus ride to the coast of the Marowijne River (Maara-way-na), which separates Suriname from French Guyana, and continue by canoe about two-thirds of the way through the country. The name of the river, at its best, sounds barely legal, I know, but I can assure you that Peace Corps drug policies are very strict. Given the great amount of water in the country, it’s no surprise that the far side of the river can barely be seen on a clear day, and is often mistaken for the ocean. Even on maps, the river looks very broad indeed, with large, populated islands. Since the dry season is beginning, though, it can take three days by boat because more rocks are closer to the surface at this time of year, making the rapids more challenging to navigate. There are plenty of these rapids and a few waterfalls to keep the journey exciting. My map marks no less than nine of the longest, and most intense, series of cataracts. Unlike many those we have in the States, the rapids on the Marowijne have encouraging and helpful names once translated, such as: “Pedro Sunk Here Falls,” “Screaming Men Rapids,” “Pull the Goods Out of the Boat Rapids,” “Go Away Rapids,” and Big Hole Falls. As you can see, the very names of these rapids lend helpful historical information, warnings, and even instructions on how to proceed. For Big Hole Falls, the two of us who go beyond must portage every time we go by boat because the river is virtually impassable. Fortunately there is a mine cart on a railroad track for us to load all of our gear in and push. It still will take a lot of trips, as I may be transporting food for a full three months on a regular basis.

The Switch

Flexibility, time and time again, is proved an essential virtue of the Peace Corps. Because I was unable to visit my site last month due to extensive flooding, the Peace Corps sent a team down to my area to make sure everything was prepared for my arrival. Unfortunately, while the people of my village were prepared to do whatever they could for me, not everything was ready, because they are understandably continuing to reestablish themselves after the devastating flood. The Peace Corps, however, found another site in the same river system that was preparing for a volunteer next year, but is ready now. Eventually it was decided that a married couple in my class switch to this site, and I take their place at Diitabiki. The Gaanman (paramount chief) of the Aucan people lives in this village, and living there will be a great opportunity to learn and help in any way I can. As my site has a long history of complex tradition, I was given a protocol book with everything I need to know from how to shake hands correctly to the roles of the many types of traditional Aucan leaders. I may also have the opportunity to work with UNICEF and their schools project, which the Peace Corps estimates will occupy a quarter of my time. Given the situation, I am happy, and humbled to serve in Diitabiki.

Okanisi Tongo

For the past months I have been learning Aucan in a combination of language classes and community immersion. Aucan is a simple but beautiful and extremely flexible language. Below are some of my favorite words and phrases that gives a flavor of Aucan.

My site, Drietabiki is literally “Three Islands,” or “Expensive Islands,” and as I understand, the Gaanman allows for either translation.

The word “Faya” (like “fire” but with a “y”), besides being fun to say, means everything from fire to light to electricity to flashlight to heat to light bulb, and can be used in any context just to add emphasis.

It makes you sound like Captain Jack Sparrow. The word “sabi” means to know or understand, but all “v’s” in Aucan are changed to “b’s” (Cassaba, Libi, Liba), so adding “sabi” onto everything, especially introductions, can be very entertaining (I’m Michael Brannagan, sabi?).

It makes you sound like Jar Jar Binks. Phrases like “Mi sa go ini busi” (I shall go into the bush). Mi na’ wani wasi koosi (I don’t want to wash clothes), and “Yu meke mi booya” (You’re confusing me) are really fun to say.

The word for “to eat” and the word for “food.” To eat is “nyan” and food is “nyan-nyan.” So, “I want to eat food” is “Mi wani nyan nyan-nyan.”

“Koo” can either mean cold or turtle.

The word “meti” means and is derived from “meat.” It is also, by no coincidence whatsoever, the word for animal or, as there is no other word for it, bacteria. So when you ask what kind of animal something is, you ask “what kind of meat is that?” Many Aucans, as I am, are willing to eat almost everything.

A Note on Updates

I have been in rather remote areas of Suriname and completely out of touch for about the last month. In fact, I had to hold on to a handwritten letter for almost a full month before I could send it. Several times, however, I wrote down blog entrys on paper so that when I had access to a computer I could make several posts at once, and that is why the dates are all in the past. Feel free to read the latest four at your leisure. The one on government acronyms is especially good, if I may say so myself.


Also, check out some of my pictures at http://picasaweb.google.com/michael.brannagan/Suriname

The American Suburbanite’s Guide to Bushwhacking

During this week all but five of my colleagues have been visiting their future sites. Several of us, however, will be living in villages that have experienced severe flooding as of late, so we will be unable to see where we will serve before we swear in. I have thus been in Paramaribo, the capital city (THE city, really), participating in other projects. For the past few days we have been trained in rain forest agriculture by a Dutch man and his Surinamese wife who cultivate a small organic “farm” in the jungle.
Yesterday we cleared bush. This requires two vital tools: boots, and a machete. The boots are quite regular black rubber boots, but with all the dangerous plants, fire ants and snakes in the forest, they really make it easy. Plus, you can ford rivers (or avoid getting wet in hidden swampy holes) up to your knees, and if you are like me and get a little carried away with a machete sometimes, good boots can save a leg. Machetes are a little more complicated, but the most important thing to remember is to get one from a country other than China. I chose an English manufacturer—a Martindale, called a “Cayman” for its engraved Crocodile on the blade. It is bigger than your average machete, twenty-eight inches long with a wide head (about five inches). This makes it good for both mowing (cutting ground vines and brush) and cutting forest (cutting practically anything bigger, including small trees). Mowing is done by swinging from the outside in, and cutting forest from across the body. You can also use a machete to harvest banana by cutting down the stalks and cassava by using the blade to dig and cut the tubers. In a humid climate, machetes naturally start to rust a little in the beginning, but with regular use, they eventually turn black, and the rust goes away.

In addition to its advantages in preparing planting grounds, bushwhacking is a great stress reliever and form of exercise. Naturally, you look like you had just been swimming when you finish clearing a section of bush, but in a country where the effort of eating makes you sweat, you get used to it.

Adoption (almost)

For the past three and a half weeks, and soon for another three and a half weeks, I have been living with a Surinamese family in a town of about two hundred people, called Marshall Kreek. Humphrey and Rita have been the best of adoptive parents, giving me plenty of good food, helping me practice the Aucan language, and making sure that I bathe with a full bucket of water three times a day. They have four children, but still have enough space for me to have my own ten by twenty foot house, which is very nice. They also have a couple of green parrots that do not talk much but have excellent personalities nonetheless.

During this stage of training, I have language classes in the mornings with the two other volunteers in my homestay village, and I have technical training two afternoons a week. On Fridays, all of the volunteers meet in a central village for guest speakers and additional technical training. I also have a community-building assignment for which I teach English to about 25 kids in the village on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. In my free time I spend time with my host family and learn practical things like shaving cassava, planting vegetable gardens, and clipping the wings of parrots so they can walk around outside their cages.

It is not difficult for me to adapt to a new set of living routines, but at first, with my limited Aucan, it was quite a challenge to learn what those routines are. Since language was an issue for the first couple of weeks I had to observe and try to communicate in other ways. For instance, it took me a week to learn that I should use a full bucket of water when bathing, even though I washed three times a day.

In terms of adventure, I sleep in a hammock, and I have a collection of unwelcome visitors in my house such as cockroaches, bats, and a band of giant spiders larger than my fist. These have led to some exciting, and often very funny late night hunts and punitive expeditions within my house. After all this is South America.

A Government A.R.E. (Acronym Rich Environment)

You know you work for the government when you catch yourself using at least two acronyms in one sentence. All these acronyms naturally aid us in streamlining and simplifying government work for the greatest efficiency possible. The practice of using these abbreviated forms started out gradually at Staging in Miami, affectionately termed PDT (Pre-Departure Training). Once we arrived in-country, however, we would be PCT’s (Peace Corps Trainees) of the class SUR 14 (the fourteenth team to Suriname), engaging in PST (Pre-Service Training), and we would be expected to use as many acronyms as we could contrive. We even had to know acronyms in other languages. Our initial training facility was called NAKS (roughly “After Work Comes Sports” in Dutch).

At NAKS we met Ann, our CD (Country Director), Marlon, our SSC (Safety and Security Counselor), and “Doc,” our PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer), as well as many first or second-year PCV’s (Peace Corps Volunteers). PST is divided into several segments including a week-long orientation, TOT (Training Of Trainers), CBT (Community Based Training), CPC’s (Counterpart Conferences), and future site visits. I have no clue why we do not have an acronym for future site visits, but I’m thinking of suggesting FSV’s). During CBT, we have HS (Homestay), when we stay with a HCN (Host-County National) family, have language classes with an LCF (I do not really know what this stands for, but it means language-teacher), and formulate a CDA (Community Development Activity) based on our conception of CED (Community Economic Development) in our respective HS sites. For our CDA we use PACA (Participatory Analysis for Community Action) tools such as FREEHOP and SWOT to assess what we should do before we do it.

During PC service, we have an EAP (Emergency Action Plan) in case anything goes wrong, but during training we have a PST EAP (Pre-Service Training Emergency Action Plan) specific to our locations. After we are sworn in, we have access to ICE (Information Collection and Exchange) resources, the IRC (In-country Resource Center), as well as IST (In-Service Training) to help us with ideas. IST is, in-turn, divided into EST, MST, and LST (Early-Service Training, Mid-Service Training, and Lat-Service Training). If we decide not to ET (Early Termination of Service) before our COS (Close Of Service) comes around, we have to submit a DOS (Description Of Service) or a DOW (Description Of Work), but I’m not sure what the difference is yet. There is still so much more to learn.

Into the Jungle

For the second week of training I went on a volunteer site visit to Pikin Santi (Little Sandy) to visit Matt in North East Suriname. They were actually wrong about the name, though. The village has a lot of sand that seems to get everywhere. I took a chartered van with a few other Peace Corps volunteers to Mongo, where I boarded a motorized canoe for another couple of hours or so to Matt’s site. There I encountered the reality of life in the interior. Matt lives in a house typical of many Surinamese Maroons—a wooden, rectangular structure about fifteen by twenty feet—simple but not uncomfortable. I slept in a hammock for the first time and have thus disavowed beds for the remainder of my service. Maroons greatly value cleanliness, both of oneself and of one’s house, and given the hot and very humid weather, this makes perfect sense. Sweeping the house is a daily routine and keeps out most of the critters. Bathing occurs three times a day, generally, either at the river or in a special washhouse with buckets.

The cooking arrangement surprised me. Matt does not know how to cook rice, Suriname’s staple and the most easily accessible food, so I had to cook. I’m still not quite sure how Matt has survived on granola, canned tuna, and ramen for a whole year, but he seemed to have a system. Anyway, I found directions, of all things, on the back of the packet of rice, and that seemed to help. We tried our hand at frying some vegetables, and Matt was able to help more there. The villagers, however, would not believe that Matt had actually cooked, and they insisted that I had done all the work myself.

Matt’s Peace Corps project consists of finding a solution to guarantee clean water in Pikin Santi all the time, which may be as simple as regulating the government-provided diesel, so that the generator-operated water pumps keep the storage tank full. Matt is also teaching American culture and language classes to about twenty-three children. He has encountered some challenges in trying to teach a very broad age range, but he is working through it.

At Matt’s village I compiled a list of supplies that I will need before I open my site in August. As I am the first volunteer in my village, I will need to purchase more than some of the other volunteers. The initial list is below:

Machete, broom, dust bin, boots, plastic chairs/table, lantern, locks, buckets, saw, hammer, right angle, file/waterstone, chisel, clothesline, string, electrical wiring, bulbs, nails, shove, rake, hoe, metal grate for grilling, Tupperware, two-burner gas stove, plates, cups, silverware, pots, pans, bowls, strainer, cutting board, washcloths, large spoon, soap, bleach, toilet paper, mirror, bleach, cookbook, lighter, matches, candles, padlocks, and food, including plenty of coffee.

A First Taste of South America

I arrived in Suriname very early on Saturday morning. As we walked off the plane, the heavy South American air hit us like a wave, and we could taste it. All twenty-five of us piled into a small bus for NAKS, the training site that will function as our base of operations for much of the next three months.

My fellow volunteers are both passionate and serious. The projects that we will be engaged in are practical, and the ways in which we are supposed to perform the projects are responsible and lasting. The approach to development is similar to my dad's approach to leadership, coming along side the people to function as a conduit and a catalyst for the people to fulfill their own needs. That being said, I am sure to learn a lot more about our actual effectiveness, and if I can learn something along those lines, I will consider my time useful.

We have had a lot of learing activities already. On our second day in-country, we went into the hinterland to see what the villages look like there. We swam in a river after lunch while a dog was chewing on a piranah head on the beach. That was a bit disconcerting, but we all made it back. The Ambassador to Suriname gave a presentation today and ate lunch with us. Sranan Tongo language training is going very well. In the first day we laerned greatings and simple conversation, numbers (Dutch ones too), time, locations and directions, days of the week, and started foods. We have been very busy.

We received our site assignments today. I am in one of the remotest places for volunteers in the interior. To get to my site I have to take a bus for about four hours than a canoe for about four or five more hours. There may be an airstrip built there soon, and that is actually one of my many potential projects. I will be able to communicate by SAT phone or HF radio, but I think it will only be for emergencies. Electricity will be available in the evenings if there is enough diesel for the generator. This will be a different way of life than I am used to, but I am confident that it will be good. I will be with a few other volunteers for all but the last hour or so to my site, but then, I am on my own. I will be the first volunteer in my village ever, and apparently the people are very excited about it.

Staging

The last two days have been a whirlwind of activity. I flew to Miami early on Wednesday, and within a couple hours of checking in at the hotel, I had already met most of my training class. There are twenty six of us flying to Suriname this afternoon, and even though we come from all over the States, we have many things in common. Our trainer said that we bonded surprisingly quickly (practically instantaneously).

Training took half a day on Wednesday and all day yesterday. It was very general, but I am glad that once we get to Suriname we can get started on country-specific training right away. We covered the mission and goals of the Peace Corps, which I have mentioned several times already. We also studied the Peace Corps approach to development, which focuses on providing for needs in a way that will last and working along-side the people rather than in a top-down manner. We also learned about many Peace Corps policies regarding safety, both physically and concerning reputation of the Peace Corps, the host country, and ourselves. Staging indeed was important, but it did seem long, and I am excited to actually arrive in-country.

Today we have nothing scheduled until the late morning, when we leave for the airport. We will arrive in Suriname tomorrow morning after a stop in Trinidad. When we arrive in Suriname we will be bussed from the capital to a training area where we will stay for two weeks with Peace Corps staff. The next time I write I will have left the States.

Packing

I have less than a day before my adventures begin. Tomorrow morning I will fly from Raleigh to Miami for a two-day staging event, and on Saturday around 1 AM I will be in Suriname. During staging I will meet my twenty-something fellow volunteers and receive a short orientation to the Peace Corps in general. Most of my training, however, will take place in Suriname itself as I am immersed in Surinamese culture, language training, and jungle survival (they call it “safety,” but jungle survival sounds better).

With the exception of my backpack, the Peace Corps limits me with two bags at a combined maximum of eighty pounds to last me twenty-seven months in Suriname. This is on purpose; Americans showing up with a lot of stuff may not send the right message! I have to be careful with the number of books I can take, and while I am prepared to make sacrifices, the prospect of living without Calvin and Hobbes for over two years is starting to hit home.

I took a trip to Hillsdale College last week to see many of my friends one last time before leaving the country. I was able to play Frisbee, swing dance, and tell a myriad of stories with friends, making my final visit just about perfect. Since I graduated in three years, I was able to watch all my friends that I entered college with walk across the stage to receive their diplomas. It was a little strange to sit in the audience, but at the same time it was encouraging that once again we all were starting major chapters of our lives together, though in many different places. Adding alumni, professors, and parents, I suppose that I had never before been among so many of my friends in any one place. As I was so close to leaving for Suriname, I realized that graduation would be the last I would see of my friends for at least two years. We will all be different when I get back, but the permanent things of friendship will not, and that holds good hope.

My Peace Corps Adventure

I finally received my invitation to serve in the Peace Corps. I began applying in October of 2006, and after almost a year and a half of filling out forms to send to an endless number of regional, national, and in-country offices, thinking all the while that the last echelon was just ahead, I finally know where I’m going.

It’s a little country in Africa called Suriname. Oh wait, no, wrong continent. Suriname is in South America. In January my placement officer called and told me that the youth outreach post in Africa departing in July had been canceled altogether (darn revolutions). Seemingly out of the blue, however, I had been approved for another assignment departing in May, after it had been confirmed that my earliest possible departure was July. The only catch was that the new assignment was in Latin America while my heart is still in Africa.

After a lot of prayer and thought, I perceived three advantages to the new assignment. First of all, I would be leaving in May, meaning that after 27 months I would arrive back in the States in August 2010, just in time for grad school. If I had left in July for Africa, I would have had to wait a year, most likely, before pursuing more education. Secondly, my new assignment is in the field of economic development, far closer to my field and more in line with what I eventually want to do. I would love to work with kids in Africa, but the experiences I could gain in development will be invaluable, plus I’ll get to put that good old-fashioned Hillsdale College free-market economics to work! Oh, and they say I might get to work with kids in Suriname too. Thirdly, I will get to visit a part of the world that I have had absolutely no exposure to. Africa is where I would like to spend a lot of my life, but as all of you know I’m always up for new adventures.

I am determined not to be naïve, but I know that there are still plenty of things to learn. Simply waiting for almost a year to hear the name of my country has taught me a bit about bureaucracy. Just as in America, the success of Peace Corps service depends upon the volunteers’ initiative, creativity, and work ethic, as well as friends who keep us accountable.

So to quote Bilbo from the Lord of the Rings, “I think I’m quite ready for another adventure.”