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A VISIT TO SURINAME

My most recent trip to Suriname (Dutch Guyana) in South America, provided me with a wonderful opportunity to visit a truly unique part of the greater Amazon Rain Forest.

Perched precariously along the North Eastern coast of the continent, the three Guyanas (French Guyana to the East, Guyana to the West) all border the colossus of Brazil to the South. Their heavily jungled interiors nestle neatly between the mighty Amazon and Orinoco river systems. With only the coastal shelf of each of these three small countries being inhabited to any significant degree, it is their vast interior river systems that form the links with the people living in the bush; mostly Amerindian tribes (primarily Caribs) and Maroons. Maroons (Bush Negroes) are the descendants of runaway slaves brought from Africa to work the plantations of the early colonies.

Stepping off the plane into tropical heat and humidity, Suriname today provides a rare, unspoilt glimpse of what the rest of Atlantic South America must once have been like. It sports a diverse and still remarkably prolific wildlife and is perhaps one of the world’s best kept tourist secrets, eco-tourism being the main form of hinterland tourism in Suriname.

An arduous four to five hour bus ride to the interior started my three day eco-tour. Leaving the flat coastal swamps behind, the route led over open expanses of savanna: broad open plains of fine white sands reaching for more than a hundred kilometres inland beyond the deep coastal swamps. Scrubby trees and palms broke the vistas while great black vultures circled overhead in the updraughts as our worn out bus banged along the deeply potholed tracks that serve as roads. Everything including all the passengers, end up coated in thick red bauxite dust from the rich ore fields from which the roads are carved. (Bauxite is the country’s chief export). This kind of travel is not for the faint of heart!

On reaching the edge of the Suriname River at Pokigron, literally the end of the road, we transfer to shallow draft open canoes. Hand hewn from the trunks of single trees in traditional west African style by Maroons who have kept alive over the last three to four hundred years many of their African traditions, these long boats were to be our only mode of transport for the next two days in the forrest. Our destination was a village of approximately 1,000 called YauYau on a splendid bend in the Suriname River, just below the Feroelasie Rapids, said to be the most dangerous on the river. Incredibly, the men who operate these boats are able to make the journey even at night, in total darkness!

The next day we were taken to visit some of the villages further up river. It was then our turn to traverse these treacherous white waters and really begin to understand the skill that these boatmen have accumulated over successive generations. One small slip and the results could be lethal, way out there in the bush!

Social structures in the villages are traditional. Four head men are appointed to take overall control of each village. They in turn proffer allegiance to a paramount chief; the whole forming a loose confederacy of tribes in each major region. These then have formal arrangements for at least some level of self determination with the central government. There is a long history here of defiant independence from any outside authority and for many years fierce Maroon communities posed a very real threat to the enslaving plantationers. Many villages have since been christianised and distinctions are drawn between Roman Catholic, Moravian (Baptist) and traditional animist communities. We were told by our guide that villagers who have not become members of a church are denied medical treatment at any of the church funded clinics. Strong incentive indeed to become paid-up card carrying followers of Jesus!

Village life centres around the river. Everyone comes to bathe and fish. Women wash their vegetables for the evening meals and later proudly polish their highly treasured metal pots with river sand until they glisten and gleam in the sun. Children frolic naked across the rock pools, fishing with the bows and arrows they have made for themselves. Young men saunter down to bathe, groom and impress each other with their tales of bravado on the water and in hunting, all the time keeping a sly eye out for a prospective bride. Each village seems to have developed its own unique culture, retained from the heritage of the eclectic groups of run-away slaves who originally gathered in the bush. Slash and burn agriculture still prevails. Fleeing slaves were helped initially by the indigenous Indians who also had no love for the avaricious colonists and taught the steadily growing Maroon population a great deal of the localised forest lore they eventually accrued. It is fascinating to see the extent to which this bush craft is used in daily life. Everything from the preparation of food and herbal medicines to the know-how for extracting them demonstrates just what an intimate knowledge of the forest these people possess.

Most heavy work, apart from the initial clearing of the forest for gardens and the boat work, is done by the women. Women still go bare breasted here, sleeping babies strapped to their backs and they can often be seen husking rice by pounding away at it in huge hard-wood mortars that are handed down from generation to generation. With many sights of such arduous, time consuming labour, one realises quickly just how hard life really is here. Ironically, juxtaposed next to this, one sees whole pods of solar panels discretely dotted about the place, powering both village schools and even in some instances a couple of the tiny thatched huts. Incongruous though it may seem at first, with new environmentally friendly technology like this now available, one dares to hope that with care and forethought the future development of these unique communities really might be managed wisely and with dignity.

Pride in common heritage and a deeply ingrained sense of independence is physically palpable here. I believe it would be tragic if these were ever to be lost as it has been lost in many other small, unique cultures as they have been forced to come to grips with the invasive effects of our modern world. One also ponders the question of just how much of this inherited bush-craft will be lost to mankind forever as our modern world inexorably encroaches further and further into these people’s lives?

We were given freedom to walk about each of the villages and encouraged to ask questions and interact in non-intrusive ways with the inhabitants. I found the people proud but not haughty. Friendly but not overly concerned with making contact either. Although some traditional handcrafts were on sale, they were never foisted on us and indeed in some villages none were visible at all. Sale of handcrafts is one way these communities are able to raise straight cash. Our guide was very careful to ensure that we were well aware of local customs and etiquette so as not to cause offence. Taking photographs of people is a particular taboo. Fear that one’s soul is likely to be trapped inside the image and so stolen, is very strong amongst the locals, even in the christianised villages. Fortunately, not so with photos of the wildlife.

Going up river, the banks seemed to be almost alive with caiman, the small fresh water alligators that live along the river’s edge. We even caught one lunching on the remains of an anaconda. Giant Amazonian river otters inhabit these waters too, although I was not fortunate enough to see any on this particular trip. There is abundant fauna here varying from small bush pigs and other unique ground dwelling mammals, to cute little monkeys such as capuchin and spider monkeys. The jungle is incredibly noisy, even at night, especially with all the insect life. It was however the birds that stole my attention. In and around Paramaribo (capital city, approx. 250,000) it is the especially noisy and comical Trutru Grikibi Pitangus Sulphuratus with its garrulous squawking (kiskadeeeee, kiskadeeeee!) that draws attention to itself. They remind me of our New Zealand kingfisher. Its cousin the Bigimofo Grikibi or Boat-billed Flycatcher Megarynchus Pitangua is just as comical and cheeky. One day I had a lucky flash of a wonderful Scarlet ibis, Eudocimus ruber, from the car window as we drove through the countryside. These shrimp eating birds get their vibrant red colour from the food they eat. (It is said those kept captive and not fed on shrimps lose their bright red and recede to a pale pink.)

Two species that were new to me this visit, were the rather curious Ani. The Greater Ani, Crotophaga major, as black as a small raven, similar in shape but with a longer, more elegant tail and the slightly larger Smooth-billed Ani,Crotophaga ani, that looks like a miniature shiny black toucan with its strange raised bill. Also the Ringed Kingfisher, Ceryle torquata, a vibrant red and blue/silver bird that nests underground along river banks. Once into the interior however, you start to find the truly exotic: Brown throated parakeets, Aratinga pertinax, Green rumped parrotlets, Forpus passerinus, (not sighted on this trip) Orange-winged parrots, Amazone amazonica and of course the almost ubiquitous Yellow fronted Amazons, Amazona ochrocephala, and the lovely green, Mealy Amazons, Amazona Farinosa, can be seen along the rivers banks and near villages.

There are Macaws here too but I have yet to see them in the wild. Maroon men capture the different species of parrots and start off by keeping them in extremely tiny wire netting cages. It is only a temporary measure it seems and once they have become accustomed to their new human flock are let out and not returned to the cages. At this point it seems they make no attempt to revert to the wild.

The son of one of the headman had one beautiful Yellow fronted Amazon and on both days that I saw it, it was happily climbing a large tree and was able to forage for its natural foods in the surrounding trees. Its wings were not clipped and it was obviously delighted to go back to him at the end of forage time. It was an intriguing sight to see tamed wild born parrots just sitting about the little thatched huts in the villages, completely unfettered, wings uncut, preening and keeping one another company until their owners came home. Garrulous they may be but better than any guard dog! Interestingly, I don’t recall seeing one dog in any of the villages.

All over Suriname, it is a common sight to see men of all ages, carrying small rattan cages with tiny song birds in them, out for a stroll or a ride on a bike. The pride and affection held for these tiny creatures by some of these big burly fellows is touching indeed to see. I even saw one such bird at a building site; the constant companion of one of the labourers, taken to work with him much as a Kiwi builder might take his dog. All the birds I saw in the villages appeared to be in good physical condition. Alert with bright clear eyes, glossy, luminous feathers, happily preening away.

Not such salubrious things can be said about the birds in the main city markets however. Its very easy to criticise from the comfort of a developed economy, but it was a heartbreaking sight to see the condition and circumstance of many of the birds for sale. Conversely, one must also consider the personal circumstances of those selling the birds in this manner for a living. It is to be hoped that with time and improved economic conditions in this wonderful country, such things will become a thing of the past and that the practise of wild capture for resale in the cities or for export (now outlawed in Suriname) will simply be outdated.

I will return to Suriname next year and plan a longer stay in the interior. In the meantime I will be reading avidly to learn more about the various species that inhabit this little bit of paradise.

Contributed by Danny Thorn
Copyrighted to Feng Shui Consultants New Zealand