Mom Gets Chocolates – I Get Pangys and Calebashes

I remember, ever since I was a little kid, when my parents would come back from school at the end of the year with a few arms full of farewell gifts from their students. To my utter delight, there would be so much chocolate that they were obliged to share with the whole family. And a lot would have to be given away: we couldn’t exactly eat 30 boxes of chocolate before they went stale, and let’s just say it isn’t the healthiest thing to scarf down in the span of a week (a concept that I did not understand until my late teens).

Every so often, a student would get creative and give a nice candle, or a funny t-shirt, or a sweet trinket (like an apple out of granite). Those still sit visibly in the house, and they are the ones I remember mom and dad complimenting on their originality. Ever since then, I try to make gifts a little more creative – if possible, I make them myself (those of you who have been on the receiving end know that sometimes it works … and sometimes it doesn’t … ).

Fast-track to the present. I am now entering my last week as a teacher in St-Laurent du Maroni, French Guiana. The French lessons have been becoming more and more structured, and to my delight, some previously illiterate women can now read their ABC’s and can read syllables. That, in itself, is enough joy to bring home as a gift.

I entered my first end-of-year party, where I was to give each lady their diplomas, and we were to cook lunch together (all 16 of us). Due to an annoying bug, a few of us didn’t make it – I hauled myself out of bed long enough to go see them, as it was the last time I’d see most of these ladies before I leave. I actually sent Philip in my stead for the lesson part, and he was a hit: he played French bingo with them, taught them a few new things, revised a few things, and gave out the diplomas, while half the group was taking turns cooking.

When I finally got there after a few hours, I was greeted with something I was warned to expect as a teacher: gifts.

But no chocolates.

I got pangys and calebashes. Which are the two traditional things women make here. But a lot of them. They are, in a way, the chocolates you give to teachers back in North America. Can’t go wrong with them, but you’re guaranteed you won’t be the only one giving them. On the other hand, no two is alike, as it’s all done by hand. Which in itself is wonderful.

This is a pangy:

This is a calebash (half a gourd with handmade carving, the only carving women were traditionally allowed to do until recently – made to drink water, or to hold anything else you can think of … loose change, chalks for class … whatever you want):

And THIS … the “non-chocolate” item of the batch … is a hand-embroided hammock.

Oh yeah. How cool is that.

Now my only concern is, how many other groups are planning to do this, and how much overweight luggage costs on a plane …

Long story short, I might have to share and give away some of these “chocolates” with friends and family.

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On an unrelated note, Sarah, Philip, Caity and I drove to Kourou to visit the European Space Center and its launch pads (notably the Arianne 4 and Arianne 5). This included a swim in the ocean in the morning (yes, after 8 months, I FINALLY went to the sea shore).

But this particular beach is in the current of the Amazonian river, which discharges a hunk of a load of debris … mainly Amazonian mud.

So we swam in half-sea, half mud. (click for more)

You can see in the middle where the mud stops and the seawater starts. The mud was heavy enough that it stayed at the bottom and you could swim in reasonably clear water … but it was low tide, so you had to wad through a good chunk of mud to get in and out … which explains why we were the only ones swimming that morning.

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Back to my comment of women not carving anything but calebashes until recently. This is my youth group during the Wednesday afternoon, the Doekoe girls – or more like, these are the carvings they produced.

Hurrah for open-minded teachers!

Carving Classes Jr.

I know I keep raving about this specific group of youth and pre-youth. But I’ll do it again. Because they’re awesome.

Up until now, the Doekoes have done the following:

• Wrote a song (together, within the span of ten minutes)
• Recorded so-said song
• Presented the song at an event
• Made paintings of Baha’i principles (see flickr pictures, they’re not far in the past)
• And now … requested a traditional carving class.

Seeing I just finished carving my chess board, I was all into this idea – but I didn’t want to teach them myself, for a few good reasons. 1: I’m still a beginner myself, 2: I know practically nothing when it comes to shortcuts and tricks of the trade, and 3: I am not Saramacca. I know basically nothing about the traditional art that goes on the wood, except for the few things I’ve seen.

So we found another Baha’i man who, may I say, is beyond awesome. He’s willing to teach a) young adults and pre-youth, and b) girls. (Carving is not for women here, except funny French women who seem to get pleasure out of learning things from different cultures)(I seem to fall in that category).

And man, was everyone enchanted.

Chris came with chunks of wood, sand paper, and rulers; I came with knives, pencils, and compasses. He impressed on everyone how important it was to learn this art: the cultural traditions have been dying as of late, especially with the kids’ generation. He told them briefly all the things they could do once they understood the basics of Saramacca carving. It took about two minutes, and everyone was in awe of him. He, on the other hand, was thrilled to see it was the kids themselves that had requested this workshop.

He then gave a small piece of wood and a knife to everyone and said “Go nuts”. I was a little taken aback – I expected a lesson on how to hold a knife, how to do patterns – but no. The idea was that everyone does anything they could think up of sculpting for two hours straight to see what they’re able to do, what they can’t do yet, and to get comfortable with the knife

I made a cute small leaf. On my own. Without having anyone explaining to me how to do it. *glows with pride*

THEN he sat us all down and showed us patterns, which everyone diligently measured and copied on paper. Everyone loved it so much that we’ll be carving for 4 hours the two following lessons, which is when we’ll stick our drawings on the larger pieces of wood and will carve out all of it.

I now realise why the act of sculpting is growing on me. It’s great to have a big chunk of something, then prune, and prune, and prune again until it becomes something entirely different. (Maybe that’s why I loved chopping away my own hair, sometimes with … interesting … results. But I digress.)

I’ll make a point of bringing my camera next time while all the young’ens carve. So. Focused. It’s awesome.

Carving Progress

Well, guess I’m almost done …! Just a few finishing touches, such as cutting the edges straight and sanding, and voilà! Zee French-Guyanese chess board experience is complete!

(No, I’m NOT carving each individual little chess pieces!)

Click on image for more photos.

Of Zen, Craftmanship, and Weekend Plans

I need to learn how to chill out. Seriously. I am, as a person, very nervous. Sometimes it blows out of proportion. I get scared for the smallest things, and I don’t realize the effect it has on my attitude, my self-esteem (and therefore my performance), and my sleep (and therefore health).

Sometimes stressful situations will roll off my back like water on a duck. Other times I’ll freeze out of fear. I still don’t know what makes me trigger, but it’s really getting on my nerves. I’m afraid that my nervousness and my fear comes through during some of my classes, and that maybe I end up destabilizing the kids. Isn’t the whole point of these classes for them to feel good about themselves and to have fun? Having a nervous and fearful teacher won’t give that effect. I need to zen-out.

That being said, I have another artistic outlet that I realized I haven’t explained yet.

I’m learning how to carve. Saramacca-style. They call that “Tembe”, which is interesting, as the word “tembe” is also used for any other craftsmanship, including hair-braiding. (Hair-braiding here is an art. Seriously.)

So for the past few months, I’ve been slowly designing a chess board with Saramacca designs on the edges. My teacher has been VERY patient with me. Wood-carving demands for precision and arm-strength. I’m definitely lacking the necessary arm-muscle, so it doesn’t take long for me to get tired! Therefore, I’ve been bringing my chess board home and working away at it little chunks at a time. I am now finished drawing and outlining everything with a thin cut. The next step that I’ll be taking today is sanding down the pencil marks, and then I start digging for real. (The 32 squares’ outlines have been dug out already.)

“In the Baha’i Cause arts, sciences and all crafts are counted as worship. The man who makes a piece of note paper to the best of his ability … is giving praise to God.” — ‘Abdu’l-Baha, The Divine Art of Living, p.65

This is something we’re discussing today with the older kids at PK-10.

Other items on this weekend’s menu:

• Kite-making
• Little celebration for the younger kids since they finished their “chapter” (which included putting a jewel on a crown every lesson – the crown is full, so they get to make themselves a crown – they’ve been looking forward to this …)
• Feast at the Doekoe’s house on Sunday night (“the Doekoes’” is the family with my adored five girls youth group – this is the first Feast they’ll be hosting in a long time, so in all, everyone’s excited)
• Sanding down my chess board
• Maybe getting my hair fully braided. We’ll see. Irène (friend at PK-10) has done a successful test last week.