Adventure down river - latrines, piranha and jungle

My day began early in the morning (early for me for summer vacation), meeting Seeta, Vanie and the gang at 8AM. Not too difficult when you consider they live across the street from me, but nevertheless, if you know me well, early for school vacation. I rolled up with my camping backpack full to the brim – considering it was full of food supplies, a first aid kit, blankets and two hammocks, it was quite a light packing for me. The 63 Bus arrived to the house and we piled in, loading all of our bags, the kids and the fishing gear. Down the Correntyne highway we went, racing towards Suriname. We had no expectations; just excitement. Arriving in Skeldon at 10AM, we learned our boat wouldn't be making the journey until 2PM. Thank goodness I have adjusted to the “Just Now”. So we headed on over to a local Halal restaurant for some fried rice/Chow Mein and chicken, and a few cokes. I showed the kids a magic trick my uncle Buddy taught me when I was about 9 – still was as

impressive as ever... except the 7 year old solved the magic trick immediately after – perhaps he was watching me lay the cards a little too closely. Finally the time arrived and we jumped the sea wall (well, climbed down a rickety old ladder to the concrete beach). We literally walked the plank to get onto the little boat (see pictures) and quite proud of myself I raced across only to bash my head on the low roof... an excellent way to start a vacation no doubt.

As I climbed on, my first thought was “oh my god, I hope it floats” , quickly followed by, “Now THIS is an adventure”. After stringing up our hammocks across the small boat with the other passengers the boat looked like it was swathed in a multitude of beautiful fabrics floating in the air (see picture). We waited while bags and bags of cement and rocks were loaded high into the boat, again making me question the sturdiness of the floating vessel. Finally we were on our way. We left Skeldon, traversing down the brown river, surrounded by a green ocean of jungle on both sides: Guyana on our right, and Suriname on our left. The contrast among the blue sky, brown river and green trees was breathtaking. I looked hard for monkeys, but unfortunately didn't see any. What we did see however, was a beautiful rainbow high in the sky woven through the clouds. Eventually, as the sun set, I crept over food supplies, luggage, bags of rocks, and lumber and nestled into my hammock for a night time rest.

We docked at Siparuta late in the evening (or early in the morning depending how you look at it: about 1 or 2 am – long before we reached Siparuta my cell service had gone down so my phone didn't know the actual time), and loaded with our luggage, climbed the sand hill to our hosts house. The house was on stilts overlooking the river and during the day, would have the most gorgeous view of the river, looking across to Suriname. We strung up my hammock across the veranda and piled mattresses out for the rest of the gang to sleep on (4 adults and 2 kids, with me in one hammock and a teenager in the second). Before bed, we filled buckets and took nice cold bucket baths under the house. I have said it before and I will say it again... bucket baths are a MUST try – they are beyond refreshing after a long hot day!

The day started even earlier than the day before, at 4am the rooster began to crow and by 5:30, the whole house but me was up and going about the day. We met more of our hosts children and our tour guide for the few days we would be there. I greeted him as I stepped out of my hammock – what a sight and first impression I must have made; hair flying everywhere, crinkled pajamas, 3 hours of restless sleep. But time doesn't wait for you in the jungle... so up I went in search of the bathroom. It was discovered that the

bathroom was outdoors and was a small latrine. This proved quite difficult for me, as up until now, I had never had to really face a latrine for an extended period of time (if you get what I mean). My host family didn't have one and no one I knew had one, so I legit had to be taught how to use the bathroom – YOU DO NOT SIT ON A LATRINE HOLE... lets just say, my quads got strong on that trip from squats. You Climb on up and squat over the hole until your business is done... Sorry to be graphic... but who knows when you will come across a latrine... this is very useful information.

Moving along... our guide took us all over Siparuta on a hike – through the village, by the river, passed the schools and town volley ball net, to the sandpits and to the black water creek. (see pictures).

Siparuta is a remote, isolated, Amerindian village far down the Correntyne River, beyond Orealla. There are approximately 600 people living in Siparuta. The major employment of the villagers is in the timber or sand business.

Later in the day, we loaded up a boat with the adults and headed out on the river for a fishing adventure. FIRST however, we needed to catch bait. We crossed the river and ducked beneath overhanging branches to the bank. Out we waded and entered pure jungle. The sounds and smells were invigorating and fresh; this was untouched jungle here. We found a small little creek and were taught how to flick the muck up on the bank and search for little fish... All I could think was.... SNAKES SNAKES SNAKES. There was a strong possibility that they were in that creek with us, but eventually, and probably stupidly, we were having so much fun slinging muck I forgot about my fears. In time, no thanks to me, Seeta and Vanie, we had enough bait. We had about 6 lines loaded with hooks and bait, for about two hours of solid fishing... and didn't catch a single fish. My ancestors would be extremely disappointed in my fishing skills. We passed by a lone fisherman in a hallowed out canoe and he proudly held up five fish that he assured us he just caught in the last hour. Giving up fishing, we parked the boat by the biggest sandpit I have ever seen and mountain climbed up the cliff to reach the top. Once we were racing around frolicking through the sand, my tour guide and some of the local teens who went with us pointed out some tracks in the sand they said were 'tiger'... I am pretty sure there aren't tigers in Guyana... but what do I know. Jaguar? Ocelots? Panthers? OK – when you are in the jungle... same difference!

The next day, we piled onto a tractor for the most unique hay ride I have ever been on... through the jungle to the savanna! The flat, grassy savanna dotted with trees and flowers was breathtakingly beautiful... until one of my travelers showed me a giant metallic silver spider... but I was assured that this wasn't one of dem biting spiders. Even still, keep it away. 

We went back and swam in an icy cold black water creek. There is a saying in Guyana that you won't leave if you eat the wild meat (labba) and drink the black water... who knows what is floating in there, so I haven't yet drank it... jus' now.

We packed up our bags and said goodbye to our wonderful host and tour guide, who quickly became our friends. We piled into a much larger boat with several decks and spots for hammocks, but as our trip was short, just up river a few hours to Orealla, we skipped the hammocks and limed on the top deck watching the scenery pass us by and gaffing. We saw another beautiful rainbow on the trip.

As we docked into Orealla, I looked out over the village and saw that this was much more tourist geared than Siparuta. There were snackettes along the river walk, a gazebo and even a volleyball court. When you arrive at an Amerindian village in Guyana, the first thing you must do is find the

Tochou (“too-shou”) or chief of the village to ask permission to stay in the village. With this accomplished we began a short walking tour before the sun set. In Orealla, you better be prepared for some leg work – there were houses nestled into the mountain cliff and to reach them, you hiked straight up the hill. We watched little old ladies race up past us as we fought for breathe. The view looking out over the bay, yet again, was breathtaking. The bay looks out onto three islands called “the three sisters”. We watched boats come and go, birds of all variety, including giant carrion, and people going about their afternoon.

The next day we hiked up the giant hill and waited for a tractor to take us and about 60 other people to the resort that was being created deep past the savanna and into the jungle. When you hear the word resort, like me, your mind undoubtedly goes to those fancy Marriott or Hilton beach side resorts... but this was not that kind of resort. The resort had benabs to sit under, campsite fire pits for cooking and latrines. The beach side water was typical black water creek... but surrounded by lush jungle. The owner of the resort was training the locals on guest hospitality to promote ecotourism. We were their guinea pigs. After a meal of ramen noodles, we jumped in the cool water and swam for a bit... realistically... I swam... my fellow friends are not the swimming abled. Yet again, I wondered how many snakes we were swimming with. A small boat pulled up from down the creek and I immediately volunteered to be the trainees guinea pig to take me on a tour through the jungle creek. Initially, we had about 12 people pile in the boat and as it rocked back and forth, I wondered yet again about the buoyancy of Guyanese vessels... 

fortunately, my tour guides realized that the boat was way overloaded and quickly turned back. We cut the number in half and went on our way.  I asked my guides how old they all were, and they responded from age 16-18... MY LIFE WAS IN THE HANDS OF A BUNCH OF TEENAGERS! Once we left the other trainees and my friends, we were surrounded by silence broken by chirping of birds and the rustling of jungle leaves. White bright light poked between the thick jungle canopy. The feeling of being alone with nature was overwhelming. The boat rocked back and forth with every move we made and I asked my guides if there were snakes in the creek. I probably shouldn't have asked the question, but my curiosity got the best of me. “oh yes,” they said. “The bone crunching kind.” GREAT! I chuckled thinking they may want to work on a better answer for their tourists. As we went along, our path was suddenly blocked by a downed log. We simply could not pass over, so my tour guides got the idea that we would lift the boat over the log. Now mind you, we are in a creek that is way over our heads, with bone crunching snakes. I did what any reasonable Peace Corps Volunteer would do... I agreed that the adventure needed to continue and precariously climbed out of the boat onto the log. All 6 of us balanced on this one log and put our efforts into heaving and lifting the heavy boat over the log. After about 5 minutes of teamwork, and two tour guides falling in the water and quickly jumping out, we got the boat over. I was so glad I hadn't fallen in and encountered the bone crunching snakes. Again I chuckled realizing that we would have to do the same on the way back. We continued on our adventure, ducking below low branches and gaffing about their lives in Orealla, and my role as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I asked the guides if they come down the river a lot... to which they eagerly replied...”No... this is our first time!” - OH MY GOD! What had I gotten myself into! On we went and we came to a fork where we could go left or right. At this point, my guides decided that we had gone far enough – perhaps because they didn't know what was either way. We turned around and headed back to the resort. When we reached the log the second time, we got it over much faster – but still with a few guides taking a dip. We made it back to the resort safely and headed 'home' back on the tractor. I will never forget this boat ride!

 

Later that day, we did some fishing by the dock, and Seeta's son caught a giant piranha (Piri in local speak pronounced “Peer-EYE”)! I finally got to see a piranha! Let me tell you... you do NOT want to encounter one of those ever in your swims. The teeth were giant and sharp, reminding me of a bear trap; its eyes were red as blood and angrily watching us as we took pictures. There is a “joke” that in the rivering area people never have the same number of toes or fingers they were born with – because of the piranha. Later that night, Vanie and I went for a walk and sat on the dock looking across the water towards the B&B, and there were about 5 kids or teenagers bathing in the river RIGHT where Seeta's son caught the piranha.

The next day, I caught some sort of flu from sleeping outside in the cold and moist air in my hammock for so many days, so I stayed in my hammock and read a book. A few of us actually got sick so we decided to take it easy. When we planned this trip, we were planning to come back on Saturday, but as with everything, the boat schedule is unpredictable and sporadic. The boat going on Saturday was canceled because someone on the crew got his arm chopped in a drunken brawl with a brother. Literally severed with a cutlass. But we later found out that a next boat was going but wouldn't be docking into Orealla until 9:30/10:00. Two of us sickies elected to take this boat to get home and to our own beds. The boat rolled up to the dock around 11:30 at night and we loaded our bag and tied up the one hammock we had (left the other one for Seeta and her family). We decided we would alternate through the night and I piled up my life jacket and rain coat into a little nest on the bottom of the boat.

About 15 minutes into the trip, the skies let loose its tears and I was soaked. The captain took pity on me as the only one NOT under the secure overhang and NOT with a hammock and got a tarp for me. I pitched my umbrella opened and made myself a little tent on the bottom of the boat and slept. I woke up hours later when we arrived back in Skeldon at 5:30 am. My phone chirped with life as it connected to civilization and messages came pouring through.

It is easy to look back at this trip and reflect on the poverty of the communities we visited in comparison to what I am used to in the United States, and even in Adelphi... There wasn't a flushing toilet in Siparuta; electricity was from a solar panel and water had to be lugged from the well up the stairs to wash dishes and cook. There were no fancy electronics or cars, no designer clothing and certainly no excess of imported food. But then I reflected further. A person shouldn't be labeled as poor just because they don't have the latest ipads, trendiest clothing or state of the art electronics – these are first world interpretations of what we consider a lack of wealth and therefore gain our pity. They had enough food, enough clothing, enough water and a beautifully stable house. They weren't tied to a desk, slaves to the clock. All around me on that trip were lush forest and nature, fresh fruit plucked ripe from the tree, natural black water swimming pools for the villagers to play, fish in the river (unless you were bad at fishing as we were), picturesque views, beautiful people, laughter and love – if that isn't “rich” I don't know what is.

This was a once in a lifetime trip and I hope you enjoyed my retelling of this adventure. I saw a quote the other day and I think it fits quite nicely into one of the main reasons I joined Peace Corps. “Live the life you Love. Love the life you Live.” I believe we only get one shot at this thing called life, so better enjoy it while I can. Life is an adventure.