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| Jdjani (21) and Mayo (48) are bound by their allegiance to Witagron and the way of life the jungle provides |
“Witagron is the wild west, man. I want visitors to experience the rawness. Other villages play to the tourists’ expectations. Not here,” 28-year-old Steve O. says.
Aesthetically, Witagron is unlike other villages along the route. A red and white communications tower dwarfs the tallest trees and pulls the eyes away from an array of transcendently colorful flora. Nearby, a modern Bailey bridge connects Witagron to the fertile hunting grounds on the other side of the Coppename River. The tiny village boasts a school, a development center, and a medical building. Unfortunately, all in Witagron is not as it seems.
“No one is ever there; the medical center, the development building. It’s all bullshit,” says Mayo, a 48-year-old local hunter and boatman. He speaks Sranan Tongo, the local creole tongue, while Steve O. translates.
According to Mayo and fellow boatman, 21 year-old Jdjani, the medical building is never staffed which leaves locals without modern options for preventative or emergent healthcare. The communications tower is “too short” and provides such limited range that it is nearly obsolete. The bridge (an engineering marvel around these parts) is rapidly deteriorating under the
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| Witagron's impassable Bailey bridge |
Instead of sending construction crews, the government posted two police officers at the ailing bridge on the eve of our arrival. A move that was probably more about ensuring the safety of aloof loggers than protecting villagers.
Witagron is the ancestral home of the Kwinti people. The Kwinti are the direct descendants of slaves who escaped the wrath of their Dutch overseers and returned to an African way of life in the extended Amazon rainforest. Of the six groups in Suriname descended from escaped slaves, the Kwinti have a reputation as the fiercest.
“The other slaves fled the plantations, but the Kwinti were known to stand-up to the Dutch. They fought for their freedom,” says Steve O.
In more modern times, Mayo called upon the righteous spirits of his ancestors during Suriname’s six-year civil war. The war pitted rebels from villages in the interior, fighting under the moniker “Jungle Commando”, against government forces lead by Suriname’s then dictator, Desi Bouterse.
“I once defended Witagron from an ambush with seven other men. They [government forces] came with bazookas, helicopters, and planes,” Mayo says proudly from behind a very calm demeanor.
Jungle Commando fighters surrendered in 1992 after Bouterse promised a return to democracy. Ironically, Bouterse was democratically elected as Suriname’s president in 2010, a position he still holds. While the raging sounds of automatic gunfire have been replaced by the echoes of shotgun blasts from local hunters, younger generations of Kwinti, like Jdjani, are embroiled in a war against the lure of the city dollar.
Once a thriving village of over 500, Witagron’s population has dwindled to just 50 as more young people leave the rainforest for what they hope are greener pastures in Suriname’s capital, Paramaribo. Those who leave tend to ditch their cultural identity once the dirt hits pavement.
“I will never leave. I could probably go to the city and make more money but I feel healthy here. I feel strong,” Jdjani says.
Mayo echoed his younger counterpart’s defiant stance and claims the city is a place he rarely travels to.
“It’s nicer here than in the city. I can live without spending much money; living off the nature. I only occasionally go to the city to get luxuries like sugar,” says Mayo while rolling a joint on a silver-plated platter.
Jdjani believes the exodus to Paramaribo is one that stems from a lack of local employment and education.
“If there was more work young people would stay, but if you can’t find a job logging, working a gold mine, or being a boatman, like me, you have to leave,” Jdjani says.
The school in Witagron only provides children with an elementary level education. They must board in Paramaribo to complete further studies. In Paramaribo, young Kwinti are thrown into a materialistic stream of consciousness where city dwellers are prone to openly dismiss traditional means of living. Those who return to Witagron after high school do so with a greater sense of monetary value that sometimes contradicts the natural wealth provided by the jungle.
A local woman preparing vegetables outside of her home was quick to relate the story of her two sons - one who stayed in the city and the other who returned. The son in Paramaribo is unemployed, caught up in drugs, and living like a “street person.” The son who returned to Witagron feels “stuck” and struggles to find purpose after attaining skills and insights that do not directly translate to village life.
The problems in Witagron are further compounded by a lack of representation. Unlike most villages who have one captain, Witagron has the supposed luxury of having two. One captain resides locally and the other who lives in the city. Captaincy is a bi-product of post-slavery, Dutch colonial rule which sought to give remote villages a representative voice in Paramaribo.
“The captain who lives here, in the village, listens to us. The captain that lives in Paramaribo is just about the money and doesn’t care about us. He never comes here,” Jdjani says.
Some villagers optimistically contend both captains are relaying the needs of their village properly. They feel the real problem lies in the nation-wide recession; a recession the government is trying to combat through exploitation of natural resources. In the eyes of the government, the land in Witagron is worth more in the hands of corporations than under the feet of villagers just trying to survive.
“The friends of the President, the gold and wood companies, will take over if people continue to leave,” Jdjani warns.
While other villages are accustomed to underground plumbing and uninterrupted electricity, Witagron is left with a crumbling water tank and mineral water fountains that no longer work. Residents are allowed four hours of electricity each night from 7p-11p. Electricity restrictions mean a greater reliance on gas and oil which puts further economic strain on villagers. Disconnected ice boxes, relics of more prosperous times, are used as dry storage for locally harvested rice.
When asked what they would discuss if given a private audience with the President, two local women emphatically responded, “Water!” An opening to the river at the back of the village is used as a boat launch and a communal watering hole.
The effects of neglect on a dwindling population filter all the way down to Kwinti spiritual practice. African groups in these jungles use ceremony to transform themselves into their individual spirit animals. The most powerful of which is the Jaguar. Kwinti Jaguar-men (those born with the spirit of a jaguar) are heralded as problem solvers, healers, and mediators between the realms. However, there are no Jaguar-men currently living in Witagron.
“The elder Jaguar-men passed away, and those who are alive moved to the city,” Jdjani says.
Visions of Witagron’s future differ generationally. Jdjani believes his village’s survival hinges on Paramaribo committing to infrastructure projects in time with initiatives making Witagron more attractive to merchants and investors. Mayo, on the other hand, cautions against giving control to outsiders in bed with big government.
“If they [merchants and corporations] are interested, they need to invest and communicate with us directly, not with ministers in government,” Mayo says. Steve O. believes the key to Witagron’s future is conscious tourism.
“The easiest way to make people aware is through tourism. Witagron’s residents can make more money introducing people to the trees than by working for corporations that cut trees down,” Steve O. says.
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| The dusty path leading to the center of Witagron |
Although their reputation as no-nonsense warriors often precedes them, the Kwinti are an inclusive and accommodating people. Mayo feels his way of life holds invaluable lessons that can benefit the global community at-large. He uses the example of an American couple who came to live in Witagron for two years during the 1970s.
“They learned the language, how to plant, how to drive boats, and set nets for fishing. By the time they left they could do everything just as well as us.”
Words & Photos by Keoni K. Wright
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