yup...

Merry Xmas everyone!
This year's Christmas is feeling a little bit more lonely than last Christmas. This might have something to do with the fact that almost every PCV is currently traveling either in America or somewhere in the world, off with their families. There are about 6 of us left in the country. It feels very lonely in the office right now.

But we have decided to have a good time together. We are all going to enjoy being by the poolside of the residence inn, enjoying a beverage or two. If we go dancing sometime this week, I'll be wearing my new Surinamese skinny jeans with the bleached and torn fabric. Yes. That's right. Skinny jeans. Now all I need is a neon colored bedazzled shirt to go with it. That's my goal for this time. So, as you can see, we are going to do Christmas Peace Corps style. We may not be opening presents or baking cookies, but we have secret santa and a potluck dinner. Eat that, people that are going home!

I'm a little bit jealous.

At least I get Kersbrod. Yum.

Merry Christmas everyone!!

Yes... I'm famous.

Just so you all know, I am now officially famous.

Recently one of my bosses has been obsessed with trying to get some media out to the interior to see what the Peace Corps is doing out there.  He has been working tirelessly to this effect, and eventually convinced four people from the US Embassy and two reporters to visit my site as well as two others along the river. I played host to all of them about a week ago. I made sure their presence was announced, I got them a meeting with my head captain and some basias, I made sure people would be around to represent the various sites they wanted to see: the school, our barbershop, the tourist shop, and the "solar powered movie theater" in the meeting house. All of these sites have solar panels, and I work with all of the people that were involved in those projects.

It was stressful! I was running around for at least a week before they came to my village to make sure everyone was on the same level and knew what their roles were when the news came to visit them. But as a perk, after they had gotten the full tour, they took me with them to the tourist camp. So I got to be a tourist and I even got to visit the other villages and get led around by the volunteer that was hosting there. Plus a free ride into town!

Anyways, as a result of this fiasco, my village got some exposure! Here is what I've seen so far:

An article based on the interview with the head captain of Nieuw Aurora.
http://www.starnieuws.com/index.php/welcome/index/nieuwsitem/13145

Pictures at least in two places:
http://news.yahoo.com/photos/peace-corps-volunteer-kispersky-assists-native-womens-organization-photo-141522762.html
http://topics.wsj.com/subject/s/Suriname/4016/photos/3f6f1022d2ec49cc8588373bca005e02#photoId%3D4

 So yeah, I'm teaching people how to run a store in the Wall Street Journal! What have you done to change the world lately?

Enjoy!

Solar Panels Rock

Lets just say that I'm over living hard-core. I used to kind of regret that I had electricity at my site, because I wanted to be able to go home and tell everyone that I lived in a place with no running water and  no electricity and then I could expand on all the hardships I had endured. Then I could feel good about how hard core I am.

As it turns out, that stuff really doesn't affect your every-day life. Any life you choose to lead, if you lead it for long enough, it just becomes normal. (I noticed that when mom came to visit and she kept hitting her head on my doors. She just couldn't get over how short they were. I had completely forgotten how annoying that was. I had just gotten used to it.)

But for the last two months, the generator in my village has been broken. That means no electricity at all. That means no charging your cell phone. That means at 7 PM, if you don't light a candle or a lamp, you can't see anything inside your house and you're scrambling around to find the candle or the lamp. That means you can't charge the batteries in your headlamp and your camera. It means no computer, no movies, no entertainment other than the company of other human beings. It's just really annoying. I have lived with no electricity now for two months, and have gotten used to the lifestyle, just like I have with all changes that came with living in the interior. I have taken to washing myself by candlelight, and eating dinner with a lamp at my side. But there is one thing I really can't get used to. Always having to get things charged with people that have a generator. I dread the day, every four days, when it comes time to charge my phone and I have to leave my phone's side. And then there's a 50 percent chance the person won't actually stick the phone into the charger properly, so maybe it won't get charged at all. AND the general price for charging your phone is 1 SRD.  There is nothing good about charging your phone elsewhere. It is lame.

So, I have decided that I have done my time. The hardship of having no electricity is not cool. Please, dear god, make them fix the electrical network in my village in a timely manner, and may I find a decent amount of lighting in my house from approximately 7 to 11 PM once again. Thanks.

Speaking of which, the solar panels that I have installed have become incredibly useful. That's how I'm powering my laptop right now. That's how, one boring night, I powered the projector that played an AIDS education movie for the whole village to see in the village's meeting house. (Peace Corps moment, anyone?)

If we had functioning speakers that could overcome the loudest peanut gallery I've ever heard, I would play movies that way more often. It was almost perfect except that we couldn't hear anything...

So here is my ode to solar panels. In a place where there is no electricity, they gave a person who cannot live without her iPod, camera, laptop, headlamp, phone and various other appliances, a little hope. Thank you, solar panels, you rock.

A Sad-Face Post

My mother just left.

Its a sad thing to realize that the visit from your mother that you have been anticipating for a whole year, is now a thing of the past. What will I have to look forward to now?

But we had a great two weeks. Mom's plane landed in Suriname at night. That next morning, we got up bright and early to get on our bus and then our boat to the interior. Mom got a pretty sweet deal, and by that I mean that she didn't have to pay for her ride out, because I had chartered the car and the boat in order to bring three sets of solar panels back out into my village. (And, it made me feel good, because my mom got the impression that I was working very hard. Double win!)

Once in my village, we were confronted with a plethora of ceremonial stuff revolving around the recent death. I had known the guy that died. He died while I was in the city during the lessons we were getting on how to set up solar panel systems. So every night that my mother was there, my villagers were "breaking the day," which is to say that they played loud music all night and at least a handful of people were guarding the body throughout the night. Someone has to guard the body, or else Jaguars will steal it, as I was told. Seriously.

Still, mom got a once in a lifetime opportunity to witness ceremonies that few people get to see, so she was incredibly lucky! We never did stay up long enough to witness the young hoodlums and their dirty dancing, which was something mom was always curious about, but really, we all know what that looks like, and it's not pretty. On the other hand, I was being told that my lack of attendance at the ceremonies was being monitored and that I might be asked to pay a fine of soft drinks or rum if I didn't show up at some point. I got out of that this time around, but I think I'll have to start going if there are any more deaths.

On day one I took mom around all of Tutu and showed her the highlights. The school, the soccer field, the landing strip. We had to stop every ten seconds for me to introduce her to people and to have a quick chat about her marital status. We were tired by the end of that day. I also took mom to Gunzi and we met the captain there. We checked out the tourist camp and chatted with some people. Mom saw her first Koni-koni, which is a rodent with legs like a rabbit. Another day, a lady from my village took my mother and me with her to grounds. We helped her cut a little patch of rice. Then we carried things on our heads on the way home. A highlight. I'm sad we never took a picture of mom with the piece of wood on her head. Mom witnessed the processing of rice from start to finish, and she saw half of the process to make cassava bread. She saw people in Gunzi pounding Maipa seeds but I don't think I pointed it out to her.

Meanwhile I was working on stuff for the solar panels and going to the shop with some women that sell things to tourists, and had meetings with people who came from the city, and even got word that a project of mine was funded. A huge number of outside things were going on. Needless to say, mom got the wrong impression of how active I usually am in the village. But hey, it made me look good, so I can't complain.

All too soon, (and I was admonished for taking her away from the village before she knew everything), it was time for our trip back to the city. On the same day that we traveled, we went directly to a party at the American Ambassador's residence. My mom met the Ambassador, my PC Country director, and various staff. She also got the chance to meet some of the volunteers. The next day, we did our best to tour the city, not getting very far because of our meandering pace. She got to experience the enormous market, and the grimy Saramacca Straat, where all the people from my area hang out when they come to the city. On the next few days, we saw some of the prettier areas of town. Among them the presidential palace, the tourist area, and the palm garden. We were taking the little ferries across the river and we got very familiar with some of the bus lines during this time. I even took her to a meeting with one of the partners I work with in the city. We did a day trip to see the butterfly museum in the outskirts of town, we went hiking in a nature reserve, and we hung out with the dolphins (pink underbellies!!) that live in the river.

And now that it's all over, I can't believe that it is. It will be one whole year before I see mom again. But I'm glad we had a good time and I hope that she will remember her trip fondly. All of you people that opted out of coming to see me, I hope you see that you royally missed out.

I'm posting some more pictures as well. Ta-ta!

Yeah...

First, I believe an apology is in order. I seem to have fallen victim to the disease most blog-writers eventually succumb to. I have not written for a really long time. Forgive me. Things are interesting to talk about when you're new to them, but as you get accustomed to your surroundings, talking about them becomes boring. Telling newcomers the same stories over and over again is no longer interesting. Instead, I want to talk about my work relationships and my every day problems, much like you want to talk about yours. And I know that stuff is less than interesting. And maybe this blog is not a good outlet for me to rant about those kinds of topics.

In other news, my mother is visiting me right now! In fact, she motivated me to write this blog, so we should all thank her. In an effort to update about life here, I would like to say that my friend Milk really did die. I would like to think that I did not jinx him with my previous blog about his narrow escape from death. So no morbid jokes please. I now have another cat. Her name is Godio (boots), and she had already had two previous houses before she came to mine. Sadly she will probably stay in Suriname when I leave, so that will make a total of four homes in her life. I hope we are not damaging her mentally by shipping her around so much. As an American, I worry about these things. Saramaccans would probably not waste time on these ideas. Even if Godio was a human. They like to go with the flow. It's a good way of living. Anyways, Godio and Milk are very different and I am getting used to it. Milk was pretty reserved around people but when being petted would be very into the experience. Godio is a very friendly cat, very cuddly. She doesn't like you touching her ears, however. Or you touching her much at all, unless she is the one that approached you. She does not like to wrestle like Milk used to. (I admit, I may have caused that. I just couldn't help bugging him until he would swat at me.) Godio will just get up and go somewhere else. It is very disappointing.

Some other things that are in my life right now:
I just got three separate groups in my village solar panels
I am going to be involved in a group of trainings being offered in my village. How to fix your own sewing machine, how to recycle materials and make profit off them, simple business skills, etc, all part of one huge grant we recently got awarded.
I teach English. (ugh, I hate this one)
I teach computer skills.
I help 6 women with their store full of hand sewn goods.
And I am trying desperately to interest the women's group in my village in working with me to help them start an income generating activity. ( I think I want this more than anyone else in the village, so it probably won't happen.)
I'm also a part of an attempt to begin selling solar lanterns in the villages. They don't use batteries or gasoline, and are thus a climate-change-conscious choice.
If I can interest people, I'd also love to start some kind of waste management in the village. Still in the concept phase.

But as you can see, my life in Suriname has changed. I am no longer just observing. I have become an active member of society. It feels good to be able to say that.

Stay posted for loads of pictures.
Cheerio!

English Lessons: Every Volunteer's Nightmare

We all encounter it now and again in our various sites: You are just hanging out, minding your own business, when someone you barely know will come up and say, "Hey, you're the Peace Corps person, aren't you? Why don't you teach english?"

Responses to this are numerous:
1. You don't know me, so what do you know about whether I'm giving english lessons.
2. If I'd wanted to teach english, I'd have gotten real money to do it elsewhere.
3. Even if I do offer lessons and take time out of my day to hold a lesson, I might get the occasional visitor, but I will not get anyone to come in succession every week, and therefore any progress that could be made with people would be almost nonexistent.

Despite the validity of these arguments, I have been bullied into offering lessons. I refuse to go sit somewhere at a scheduled hour, but I tell people that they can come to my house any time, and I'll offer them a lesson. Usually no one takes me up on the offer. But the other day, I had my first student. It was a humble beginning, what with both the teacher and the student being inexperienced at playing school. But I managed to make her repeat the alphabet until she could say all the letters. Then I taught her phrases like Good Morning, My Name is ____, etc. She was fighting the derisive comments of my neighbor (this is typical Elsa) and the attempts at conversations being made by this other dude (that was just rude), and then we paused the lesson for a good while to argue with the guy about some event that happened at least ten years ago. But my student bravely soldiered on through the adversities of learning english in the jungle. If she ever comes back, I'll make her go over what I taught her the first time.

I am chalking this one up as a win. It's going on my trimester report.

In-Service Training

Hello Everyone!

I have come to the city for In-Service Training. The SUR 16's (those who came to Suriname a year before I did) had what is called their Close of Service Training. Their departure is so close they can smell it. When the 16's leave, there will be no more replacements, so there will be only 20 peace corps volunteers in Suriname left. We 17's are not thrilled about this, but I guess it will bring us closer, so that's nice. In any case, it'll be a huge transition for me. Unlike most other volunteers in Suriname, I have what I like to call a Site-Mate. There's another volunteer living about a two minute walk away from me. We have dinner every day. In addition, there is a couple who is employed by the Peace Corps as response volunteers, whom I also see almost every day in my village. All three of those people will be leaving around June. After that, I spend my next year being the only Peace Corps Volunteer in my village. That is generally the norm, but will be a new experience for me. I think I will find myself taking more trips up and down the river to go see my coworkers in other villages.

And now for a little tribute to my cat. As some of you might know, I have a cat named Milk (aka Meiki) living with me at my house. He has been my best friend, and occasionally my only consolation when I have felt all alone in a strange place with nobody to listen to my complaints. Milk is my buddy. We spend the evenings cuddling. He likes to annoy me by jumping onto the lids of my meat buckets (buckets originally meant for exporting meat, but now used to keep rats out of my food) right as I am about to open them. He likes to sit on my lap when I'm eating breakfast and he enjoys surveying the land from the highest vantage points in my house. I didn't realize how much I like having him around until he nearly died. Recently, my cat got extremely sick. He had eaten a poisoned rat. He was fine in the morning, and all of a sudden, he began throwing up. Then he threw up only bile, and then he was retching without having anything to throw up anymore. By the end of the day he was motionless, hiding under my bed. Later that night, he stumbled pathetically outside and fell into the weeds. When I tried to force him to eat things, he whined at me and moved further away. I got the hint and left him alone. That night he didn't come back. In fact, he didn't come back the day after either. Or the day after. I was certain he had died. That's when I realized how much I love the little bugger. I was in serious distress over losing him, and (I will admit), I cried quite a bit that day. Then, at 11 PM on that second day, he stumbled in and cried at me to wake me up. He was skin and bones, and he slept on the floor, which he never does. But he proceeded to recover! I got to laugh at him during those days of recovery for being an old man and not being able to jump onto my bed anymore. But in the meantime, he's back to his old self, and all thoughts of losing him have faded into the background.

I hope everyone back home is passing the time and making the best of it! Thank you to everyone who has spent precious time and effort to send me a package. Getting a package is one of the most exciting experiences of living here.