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.