Traditional dance of Maroons

This video highlights the traditional dance style, called Awassa, of Maroons in Suriname and French Guiana. The music is also traditional and typically tells a story. This style of dance and music is very common now in the interior where we live, but is performed formally only during special occasions. I wish I had some good footage of my own, but alas, I haven't had good luck so far. Enjoy. -Christine

Dutch Guiana - Land of the Djuka 1933

A very dated, yet fascinating video of Maroons in Suriname, previously Dutch Guiana.

From Miami, November 4th, 2010

First, sorry to our faithful blog readers (both of you) for slacking off on the updates. What with the loss of electricity in the village (more later) and a more hectic pace to the development work when we're in the city, we have been most remiss. Day-to-day village life is much the same as it has been although we have now been here through an entire planting/harvesting season so we have a better understanding of the cycle of work here. July through December is very busy for the farmers and we now have a very good sense of the kind of work they're doing and why. David continues to be very involved in the farming and still goes to grounds 2-3 times a week.

The whole village suffered a big loss with the demise of our beloved generator. During an all-nighter (one of the parties that go until day break in the aftermath of a death) sparky lost his battle with BTU's due to a pernicious leak in life-sustaining radiator fluid. From now on, wakes and everything else will be sans electrons except for those lucky few with back-up generators (not us). Other generic news includes David/Christine health report - David is holding steady at a healthy 152lbs, about 30 under arrival weight - lighter, probably weaker but a hell of a lot tougher. Christine's skin continues to do battle with her immune system and unfortunately, the immune system is winning. Very difficult for her to do routine housework because her hands are the primary victim in the histamine assault. But she's hanging in which shows she's tougher than David.

The development work is going well. The business to grate and package pom tayer is up and running. The brothers who started the business received an operating loan from a local credit union, purchased processing equipment, packaging materials and their first order of unprocessed produce. They've begun to sell 1 kilo packages to retail outlets. Sales are a little slow right now because retailers want to see how the product initially sells before buying in bulk. Buyers are already placing larger orders. Pom tayer is a variety of taro, which is used in Hawaii to make poi. There are several varieties of tayer grown here, but pom tayer is the most common. We are really pleased that this project is up and running. It could have a big impact not only for the entrepreneurs, but also the local growers as it provides them a more competitive market for selling their produce. This is huge because right now as no one is buying pom tayer, so there is very little farm revenue coming into the village.

The water improvement project is moving slowly. Nine new platforms for rainwater catchment tanks have been built at selected households, but the installations have not been completed due to delays in funding. Speaking of money begs the question of where does donated money actually end up? Well, ideally, the water board would have a bank account where income and outgo can be easily tracked. So our dutiful organization has attempted to open one. Much, much easier said than done. One would think opening an account and depositing money would be something banks would encourage but this does not seem to be the case since this process has been underway for several months. Something more always seems to be needed for the bank to be willing to open an account in their name.

Fortunately, things have settled down in the village for our new Kapiten. His father has come to a much more open and accepting position regarding his son's choice and did a few sermons on being more cautious about passing judgment on others. This is very fortunate for our Kapiten as he has been pretty overwhelmed in his new job. Along with the catch up work from being four years without a Kapiten, there have been several deaths recently. Deaths involve ritual and the Kapiten - as the community leader - must prepare and participate in all facets of these rituals. The church/traditional split in the village tends to make these events more stressful in general. Also, families of the deceased do not always agree (hard to imagine) as to the proper way of things and he is called upon to settle these issues - which can get messy.

July, 2010

There has been a lot going on in the village and in Suriname at large over the last couple of months. On the development work front, a local company has sponsored the installation of several rain catchment tanks and provided the village with a cassava mill. This latter item grates cassava into “flour” (not really flour, it’s wet and sticky but it’s what they squeeze, dry and make bread and kwaka from). This otherwise difficult and painful work is done by hand on a piece of metal nailed to a wooden board. The metal is perforated to create a grating surface. Although the mill will make things easier, the nutritional value of the resulting cassava will be reduced slightly due to the lack of blood and fingertips that otherwise provide a small amount of protein when using the manual method. The rainwater tank project has been interesting. The number of tanks we’ll receive from this company is far less than the total needed for the village (we’ve applied to other international support organizations for the whole project) so the process of deciding who would get these first tanks had the potential to be a bit dicey. Fortunately, our water board was up to the task. First, they decided that each of our 8 neighborhoods would get 1 tank. Then each neighborhood rep on the board was asked to pick someone to receive the tank. Initially one or two thought that board members should get them but this was quickly nixed as setting a bad precedent. The criteria loosely established were that the recipients should be those who first – didn’t already have a tank, second – be older folks with less potential for earning money to buy a tank themselves, third – have a large number of kids in the house. Candidates were quickly selected and the board then held a town meeting to announce the results, their reasoning and to see if there were objections. The water board rocks.
Our village is also in the throes of selecting a new Kapiten. Kapitens are village leaders (who are paid a small stipend by the government) that have traditionally resolved disputes, made community decisions, and generally provided leadership to bush communities. The Kapiten tradition goes all the way back to the founding of maroon communities when they first escaped slavery some 300 years ago. As such, the “confirmation” process is steeped in traditional ritual, which is proving to be a bit of a problem this time around. The position of Kapiten is hereditary in a fairly unusual way – the eldest son of the eldest sister of the current Kapiten is the person in line to become the new Kapiten. In our village, this woman married the local Christian preacher and both she and obviously her husband have renounced most traditional ritual as heathen craziness certain to lead all participants directly to hell. “No son of ours, etc…” This has led to a four year hiatus in the Kapitency which is not particularly good for the community as a whole. In the case of our village, it is actually the fourth son who has been “nominated” to become Kapiten. The oldest brother had a traumatic brain injury as a child and cannot serve; the next two brothers live in the city and are as opposed as their parents to “unchristian” ritual. So brother four has stepped up and will become Kapiten, and this has created quite a rift between he and his parents (his brothers seem to be OK with it), and between the “churchies” and the “heathens” in the community at large. Church last Sunday was pyrotechnic with all the protestations and boisterously voiced concerns for brother four’s immortal soul. But he himself is a great guy and we think will make a fine Kapiten. We’re very impressed that he has the fortitude to go through this tribulation basically for the good of the community.
Suriname just had an election. The process was pretty impressive even if the result was a little unsettling. A group from the government election agency came to our village, showed people how to vote, hung out all day and then publicly counted every ballot. They physically showed every ballot while they were counting. Apparently they do this in every village and in neighborhoods in the city. A very remarkable display of democracy. Unfortunately, just because you have a good process doesn't mean you'll get a good result. The "winner" - they have a parliamentary system so they must form a coalition government, so no guarantee he'll become president but his party got the most seats - is a former dictator here who is a convicted drug smuggler and is currently on trial for murder. One early coalition had him paired with his former military rival during this country’s civil war in the 80’s who also has an international warrant for his arrest on similar drug charges. Neither can leave the country without fear of immediate incarceration. A third leading political figure is a convicted sex offender. American politicians don’t have anything on these guys – other than we rarely actually convict our politicians of crimes. In the month and a half since the actual vote, coalitions have formed, dissolved and reformed and as yet there is still no president. Since it’s unlikely that any coalition will get 2/3 of the seats necessary to install the president, a lower governing body of “state” and “county” representatives will likely vote to select the president. The process is pretty confusing to us uninitiated Americans but it’s been fascinating to watch.

A Trip to Market

After several months of working at grounds with the folks of our village, David finally got an opportunity to see how produce is sold in the big city of Paramaribo. This happened as a result of meticulous planning, detailed discussion and precise logistics (a meeting got moved and David was desperate for a ride on short notice). Late Sunday night, we loaded a van with dozens of 50 kilo sacks of ginger and pom tayer. There were many people loading items and weighing sacks (50 kilos with a hand held scale – don’t try this at home) and it was very unclear how they knew whose stuff was whose. This of course did not leave any room for passengers and barely enough room for the driver so another van with about ten of us hit the road at about midnight. This road is “under construction” so it doesn’t make for the smoothest of rides. Several times it looked like someone would be launched through the roof from taking the pot holes a little too fast. After about 2 and a half hours and with our internal organs adjusted to a slightly new orientation, we got to the big “wowoyo” or market. Apparently (and obviously if you think about it) we were not the only ones making this late night sojourn. The place was swarming with people. We unloaded our cargo, talked to a few people from surrounding villages and proceeded to wait for the buyers to show up at about 5:30 or 6 in the morning. The mystery of ownership of each sack of produce unraveled when David saw that each grower used a different color twine to sew their bags shut. Several folks slept in the van for a couple of hours and David tried this also but with little of the intended effect. Apparently the driver was very well known and popular and every time David almost nodded off, someone from outside the van would bang on the side of the door and shout his (the driver’s) name. He would talk with them for a few minutes and would be asleep again within 30 seconds of the end of the conversation. Clearly an acquired skill. After selling everything, which happened pretty quickly, everybody loads up and heads back to the village. Apparently this happens a couple of times a week and even happened before the road was built. Then everything got loaded onto boats first and then transferred to vans in Moengo.

We are now providing more English lessons in Moengo through a local non-profit organization there. It’s a great program that teaches skills for working in an office. English is just one module and the program includes improving their Dutch, learning internet skills and spreadsheet and word processing software. The program also tries to find work for the graduates in local offices at the end of the class. It’s been a lot of fun for both of us.

Settling in

So, it’s been awhile since our last update and that reflects that our lives have become a little more routine. The “newness” of life for us here is wearing away and things are settling. We typically wake up, eat, clean up around the house and yard and then visit, work at grounds (although this is happening less because this time of year there isn’t a lot to do) and read. We go to Moengo once or twice a week on our bicycles – about a 30 – 45 minute ride – to buy food, go to lunch, hang out, etc. It’s a pretty laid back lifestyle. Some domestic activities still provide the chance to thrill and excite. After months of practice, Christine can now carry a full, large bucket on her head (see photo) all the way to the river without using her hands! The learning process has given the local women no end of amusement but this hasn’t daunted her enthusiasm.

As for the development work, it has also slowed down. Early on, there was a big pulse of activity in helping to organize the village, discussing wants and needs, collecting baseline information, finding potential sponsors, writing up proposals, etc. The proposals are mostly in and we are in “wait for money” mode.

Some new stuff is still going on. We’ve started giving English lessons which has been a lot of fun. We each give 2 – 4 lessons a week. We’ve split into two classes. Christine teaches those with virtually no exposure to English while David has people who have learned some English in school or at work. It’s very interesting to see how the more advanced group has been taught English. Many actually know a lot of words and phrases but because it has all be book learning and they’ve had very little chance to talk in English, they can’t actually speak a lick! It’s taken several classes to figure this out so David has just recently shifted his focus away from memorization and towards more conversation in class. Christine focuses most on inspiring confidence, increasing self esteem and having fun. Many of her class members are women who, for a variety of reasons, did not attend school at all. It’s a real thrill to see their excitement when someone responds correctly in class. Christine is also working privately with two young women who approached her for assistance in learning to read. Using materials from one of the local missionaries, she is teaching them in the local language. It’s going really well as they are both fast learners.

A Death in the Village

An old woman died in the village a few days ago (12/27/09). She was one of the matriarchs here and has 9 children living in the village, and virtually countless grand and grand-grandchildren. All normal activity came to a halt and the village began to mourn her. She did not go to the Baptist church here so the mourning was very traditional which has been influenced little by the church. Dozens of people gathered in the “dead house” to tell stories about her and her life, followed by music and dancing all night long.

The second day, many more people arrived in the village and the body was prepared for burial. After washing, the body was placed in a coffin and then wrapped in colorful folded bolts of cloth, leaving her face exposed. She was covered with perfume and baby powder so as to make her rest very comfortable. The coffin was then sealed and placed on a pedestal in the dead house and a hammock hung in front of it so family could sleep next to her a last time. Then there was another night of music, drinking and dancing (which would make sleeping next to the body somewhat improbable) with many libations made to the deceased. This is done with palm “rum” which is 90% (180 proof) alcohol, cut with a little water. A small amount is first poured on the ground for the one who passed and the rest is consumed. It’s hard to say one drinks this stuff because half of it volatilizes before you can swallow (thankfully). We made to about 2 in the morning which is when many of the older (and wiser, it turns out…they were sleeping from about 7 til 2) folks came to party literally until the sun comes up.

The burial day was two days later and we were invited to attend. The body is carried from the dead house to a boat and this is when most of the crying and wailing occur. Women especially wail and yell their sorrow at the passing of their loved one. Village elders and close family ride in the boat with the coffin and another boat for the rest of us followed. We were all admonished before we left to finish crying before starting the actual burial. All sorrow was to be left in the river. A colorful flag was flown on the coffin boat and several shotgun volleys were fired to announce the passing. Upon arrival at the burial place, a path was cleaned where the coffin was to pass. It was placed just outside the boat while a proper burial site was selected and the grave was dug. All people for whom this was a first burial were asked to identify themselves. We didn’t think much of this at the time…As the hole was dug, several rituals were performed and more stories told. Overall it was a happy gathering with people laughing and enjoying each other’s presence. When the hole was finished, the first timers were told that their eyes must be opened in order to not fear the spirits of the dead. They then tied each newcomer to a small post in front of the grave by means of a vine slipped over their wrist. Then the above mentioned “rum” was poured onto some leaves and squeezed from the leaves into our eyes. As you can imagine, this was fairly painful. Fortunately, right after they try to blind you, they flush your eyes with water (also squeezed from the same leaves). Then, while you’re still tied by one wrist, they beat you with sticks and you’re supposed to fight back and try to hit the people hitting you. The “beating” has become ritualized so you could barely feel it (especially compared to the fire burning toward our brains from our eye sockets), but when some of the older guys had their eyes “re-opened”, the beating got a lot more serious. After this, the coffin was lowered into the ground and various additional rites were performed. The whole burial took about 6 hours.

The woman who died was always very kind to us and welcomed us to sit and talk with her whenever we passed her house. She would help us with language and was gentle in her teaching. Although we didn’t know her well, it was surprising how strongly we felt at her passing. Clearly nothing like what the villagers were feeling, but the sense of loss is palpable and the pain felt by the people we do know more closely has rippled through us as well.