At the river

Recently we took the students to the river for a picnic lunch and swim. We don't do this often enough (you know how I love to swim, even in black water that is probably hiding monsters) because the walk is about two hours long each way. Most of the teachers rode their motorbikes, but since the students had to walk (and because I'm not allowed on motorbikes per Peace Corps rules), Junio and I made the long trek with them. Even though only about half the kids could actually swim, they had a blast splashing around in the water. They were doing flips, playing volleyball and rugby, racing, and I even taught them to play chicken. A few of the more industrious students hung off to one side, fishing, pulling up piranha after piranha. One was nice enough to demonstrate how strong those little fish jaws are: put a stick or fishingline anywhere near their mouths, and they'll snap right through it as though it was nothing.
A bus came by, so they loaded all the girls, and as many students as could fit, onto it for a ride home, but several still had to walk. All the teachers rode back, this time Junio included, so I walked alone with the few boys left behind. Of course, I got horribly sunburned despite the hat and the gallons of sunscreen, but this sort of day? Totally worth it.

They call this the "bicycle" but it's more like "drown the kid in the middle"

"Toss the teacher" became a big hit. I let them throw me, too, but since I had the camera, there's no picture of it.

Might as well take a bath, since there's all this water

Nappi

Welcome to Nappi. If you go there, you might meet this guy:

Thomas, rocking the Amerindian head thingy that his host family made him.

My visit started at their Heritage Festival, which I wrote about in the last post. The food was good, and the company was pleasant, but Thomas lost the drinking competition.

I have no idea what these seed pods are, but the kids were happy to show me how they are used to paint faces.

Thomas then led his Wildlife Club kids in a song and dance, which was very amusing. They seemed to have a lot of fun. I was lucky enough to be allowed to join the club for a bird walk and leaf lesson. 

Thomas, king of the small children

Of course, by now you all know how much I love water, and swimming, and since my own area has no swimming places nearby, Thomas indulged me (or maybe just wanted to rub it in, however you want to look at it) by taking me around to all of the most beautiful places, most of which were quite swim-able.

First we biked for ages until we got trapped in the mud, at which point we had to abandon the bicycles and continue on foot. 

Thomas beginning to realize the track may no longer be ride-able 

After more than an hour, we were rewarded with some of the most breathtaking views.

We picked a beautiful spot for a little picnic of bananas and farine, while hundreds of tiny fish nibbled on our feet. 

Here he's found a good spot

It takes some getting used to

Your toes' view

Look at this place!

Surrounded by little nibbling fish

I may have fallen on these rocks a few times...

Once Thomas had finally convinced me to get out of the water (which took some doing) we headed for home. 

The next day's adventure took another long bike ride to the dam, where we had another swim, planned the horror movie we wanted to film, and collected tons of snail shells (okay, that part was just me).




Our final task was to interview George, an Amerindian craftsman who makes the most beautiful balata figurines. Balata is a rubber-like tree gum. He explained and demonstrated how he heats it, colors it, and molds it, and then was so kind he gave me one as a keepsake.
I'm hoping that with this interview, and several others, I can eventually put together a short video about the different types of traditional Amerindian crafts that are slowly being lost.

Some of his handiwork

Just as a reference, he said that to make a small one-ounce anteater figurine, from start to finish, takes over an hour of work, and he sells it for the equivalent of one US dollar. This is a lot of hard work, for very little money. It's not surprising this is a dying art.

Amerindian Heritage

Everyone in my cohort is placed in Amerindian villages. That means that for us, the month of September is all about Amerindian Heritage festivals. 

Ceremonial cleansing of the air (or something to that effect)

These are usually filled with traditional costumes (or approximations of them), dances, foods, and competitions. They participate in things like bow shooting, cassava grating, fire starting, cotton spinning, and of course drinking. 

The first (of four) celebrations I went to was in Annai. 

One of the dance groups at the Annai Heritage Festival

My students then put on the next show, at their own institute. Unfortunately, the only competition was a pageant, which I dread. Almost every volunteer loathes the pageants. They are so uncomfortable to sit through.

The Heritage Festival in St. Ignatius was the biggest in the region. Most of the Region Nine volunteers crashed with Gabrielle for a few days to go to that one, which, since I no longer had the responsibility of looking after students, was much more fun. We danced until dawn both nights, and had an absolute blast.

The last one I went to was right outside of Lethem, in Nappi. The food was great, but they unfortunately forgot to actually plan any festivities, so except for the drinking contest and a tug-of-war, it was just a sort of regular day in the village.

My students portraying the nine tribes of Guyana (Macushi, Wapishana, Patamona, Warau, Carib, Acuaio, Wai Wai, Aracuna, Arawak, not necessarily in that order)

My students dancing (I think they were doing the Gold Dance)

John and Litisha performing

"In Service Training"

Six of us have made it this far. Not all of sound body or mind, as you can tell from our group photo:

Left to right: Kirsten, Lance, Thomas, Me, Jon, and Dylan

We got brought to Iwokrama, which is a protected area in Region Nine, for our next training session. Most of it centered around Wildlife Clubs, which is what every Environmental Volunteer except me is working on. We were supposed to be working on things like how to teach compass use and mapping and things like that...

Junio working diligently, as usual, while the rest of us goofed off

...but most of us were far more interested in being silly, or getting distracted by anything that hopped, crawled or flew. In my defense, it was a week of whole-day-long meetings that had little or nothing to do with any of my work. We'd been doing almost nothing but Wildlife Club trainings ever since we swore in, and I am not doing a Wildlife Club. (Side note: when you're in the Peace Corps, you're supposed to choose your work based on the needs of your community. Since my situation is so different, it wouldn't make much sense for me to do a club, so I don't.)

I don't even think they were looking at anything

Blue and Gold Macaws

Our morning visitor

We very much enjoyed a night boat ride looking for snakes and caiman (well, most of us did. Stephanie, the training coordinator, was a bit nervous and less than enthusiastic about both the darkness and the reptiles), and a stunning hike up Turtle Mountain. 

See? Junio is psyched for this

Stephanie refused to pet this guy for some reason

I do not understand how the guides can spot these snakes in tree branches in the dark, from a boat driving past. It's magical.

Lance enjoying the view from the summit

Junio, Carey, and Ken

The view from the top

Manatees

Normally I don't like cities. There are too many people, too much cement, and everything is dirty and loud. Georgetown is no exception, and actually is one of my least favorite cities I've ever been to. I dread having to walk around there.

HOWEVER

In the middle of this crowded metropolis is a beautiful park.

The park is lovely, with lush grass and a large pond in the middle. You'll see people jogging, or taking their family for a picnic, or even reading on a park bench. Most recently I spent a gorgeous sunny afternoon there with my second family, two of the Region Nine volunteers.

Gabrielle and Steven, soaking up the sunshine while we waited for the eclipse

The best part about the park is the manatees. For those of you who haven't seen one, they are large grey blobs that float up to the surface and, with the most adorable snuffling motion, graze on the grass clippings that have fallen into the water, since in this particular water there's few aquatic plants for these grazers.

This park has about a dozen manatees. When you first go up to the water, it looks just still and murky, but after about a minute, at least one will come up to investigate, and see if you have anything for them. They are so used to people that they eat right out of your hand, and will climb partway out of the water just to get closer. They will let you touch them, and they feel much like a wet elephant: a bit rough, with bristly hairs.

If you look closely at the flipper, you can see toenails

The one weird thing: Although they look adorable when they are grazing, if you get close up and slow it down enough to see what's actually going on, they look like some sort of sea monster crossed with a Venus Flytrap when they eat, and it's momentarily terrifying. Luckily for you, I did just that.