The Peace Corps Life

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• Entry from Paramaribo

  Paramaribo, Suriname
Sunday, May 7, 2006

I'm sitting on a large granite boulder on the shore of the Tapanahoni River, about three kilometers from the Amerindian village of Palumeu in southern Suriname. There's a large freshly caught piranha roasting over a simple fire. I'm reflecting on how Glenn caught the fish, calling it to us underwater by swishing water in his mouth, then shooting it with a simple bow and harpoon made from a liana, fishing line, and a sharpened recycled metal rod. Sandra, Glenn's young and beautiful wife, is lovingly picking near invisible mites off my friend's back with the tip of a kitchen knife. I'm asking myself two things: How did I end up here? And why can't I have someone to remove the parasites from my skin? Hey, a guy gets lonely living so long single in the jungle!

Well, I ended up here because this is where I always wanted to be. I don't mean in the rainforest of Suriname, I mean just someplace foreign and challenging, someplace where I would teach and learn, someplace where I would live for two years as a Peace Corps volunteer.

Since it's inception in 1961, Peace Corps has sent over 182,000 eager volunteers to 138 countries to work in such fields as sustainable agriculture, business development, AIDS prevention, and education. There are currently 7,800 volunteers serving in 72 countries. Peace Corps volunteers are given an opportunity to strengthen the global community a little by living for two years in a developing country, learning its language, and making friends and sharing skills with its people, all the while being supported by host-country Peace Corps staff, community counterparts, and the Peace Corps headquarters in Washington D.C. Volunteers work as cultural ambassadors for America, too, showing people around the world that not all Americans embrace the same beliefs and political views. Also, we bring back to America knowledge of the country where we served, and are encouraged to educate the folks back home about it.

My desire to join the Peace Corps goes back a long time. My mom tells me that as a kid I'd get excited when the commercials came on TV. In high school I remember looking through the Peace Corps brochures and telling myself that it was what I was going to do after college. Sure enough, six months after graduating I found myself on a plane from Detroit headed to a country most Americans know very little about, wondering what I was getting myself into. Would the next two years of my life be as exciting and enlightening as I imagined? Would I be able to help a community like I wanted? Would this be the adventure I looked forward to for so long?

The answer to these questions is, well, kind of. I remember looking through those brochures in the high school guidance office, looking at the map of where volunteers currently served, eighty or so countries, and imagining what the experience would be like in, say, Romania, or Vanuatu, or Ethiopia. Fast forward to when it came time to applying, me hesitating at the question that asked where in the world I'd like to serve. Having never traveled overseas and being impatient to see the whole world, I couldn't make up my mind. I could have easily left it all to chance by answering "Anywhere," but in that instant Eastern Europe or the South Pacific seemed like an attractive option, so I checked those. Imagine my surprise when a few months later I get a call.

"Hello, Matthew. This is Jack Rogers from Peace Corps. How do you feel about going to South America?"

Supposing South America could be just as exciting as anywhere else in the world, and knowing that they didn't send volunteers to Brazil anymore, I replied, "Sure. I'd like to learn Spanish."

"Actually, Matthew, it's a Dutch speaking country." Curious, I thought. Shows how much I know about South America. "Ok," I said.

"Great!" the voice on the other side said, "We'll send you all the information in the mail."

Click. I hung up and realized he failed to tell me the name of the country. It wasn't hard to figure out though. Dutch. South America. A few seconds on Google and voila! Suriname. Now, just where the heck was that?

A few more minutes online and I knew a little more: Small country north of Brazil. Dutch heritage. Dutch and Sranan Tongo chief languages. Gold and bauxite mining. 80f land area still undeveloped rainforest. Home to Hindustani, Indonesian, Chinese, Creole, and indigenous peoples, as well as many Maroons, the descendents of escaped slaves living traditionally in the bush. I didn't know any of this! I didn't even know where Suriname was on the map! Now I was going to be immersed in it. It would become my home. Wow!

Two years later, I'm nearing the completion of my service in Suriname and I'm more knowledgeable about this country than my home state of Michigan. But here's the funny thing, out of all those places I could have ended up, the Peace Corps Life I ended up having is remarkably similar to the way I first imagined it would be. I was a boy and driving somewhere with my mom; we were talking about the Peace Corps. I must have seen the commercial and asked what it was. She told me it was an organization that sent volunteers all over the world to help people. The world was big and I wanted to see it, and helping people is good, so I was interested. Out of all the examples she could have giving to describe the experience to me, she said, "Imagine Matthew, living in the Amazon rainforest, sleeping in a hammock, mosquitoes everywhere, snakes and scorpions and all sorts of creepy-crawly things! You'd probably love it." And I do, mom.

It's been difficult, educational, and incredible living and working in the Trio and Wajana Amerindian community of Palumeu. I have my own simple hut, just like my neighbors. I sleep in a hammock and bathe in the river. I cook over a wood fire. No electricity. No telephone. No internet. Much different from the life I left behind. That's something you've got to hand to us volunteers, our willingness to "give up" the comforts of home for the hardships of developing communities. Some people think we're crazy for doing it, while others think we're altruists, but it's more like a mix of insanity and idealism if you ask me. We welcome the challenges we encounter, even the malaria, dengue, giardia, infections, and worms, all the while filled with hope that we can be a positive influence for healthy, sustainable development in this beautiful country.

Peace Corps is in its eleventh year in Suriname. To date over 250 volunteers have served in here. We have collectively assisted over 124,000 Surinamese citizens and organizations; we have lived in over 86 of the communities that make up this diverse nation.

I've learned a lot about myself, my abilities, and my limitations the world, this country, and the many cultures that coexist here. I've had the opportunity to do things here that I could do no place else, for instance, searching for the rare bird, the Cock of the Rock, freeing an anaconda from a fishing net, drinking lots and lots of cassiri, (a fermented cassava beverage), eating strange and wild foods, and dressing in the traditional Amerindian loincloth and headdress.

And I'm doing good work too, I think. How do I know? When people say things like this: "Mi lobi fa yu tan dja nanga unu. Yu no musu gwe." I love how you live here with us. You shouldn't leave. "Fu sa'de yu no trouw dja nanga meki wan babi? Tan dja, yeri!" Why don't you get married here and make a baby? Stay here.

Like all volunteers, when I leave, when I say goodbye to Suriname, I hope to leave some mark of my presence here. It's very well possible though to serve for two years and not be able to see or touch the positive effect we've had. When it comes down to it, the solid friendships we've forged with the people of our communities may be the only thing that leaves a mark. Of course, the bakery I helped Sikiwans build and the English I taught to Glenn and Sammy counts for something, but the mark I've left in the hearts of the people who affectionately call me "Matchew Fine Fine" is priceless. I'll be sad when I leave, but I'll be back to visit someday, and you can be sure I'll hold this experience close to my heart for the rest of my life.