Friday, April 13, 2018

EMERGING FROM HER ROOTS AND LOVING IT: Surinamese kickboxer Chavella Lee is ready to take on the world as long as home remains home.





For Surinamese kickboxer Chavella Lee nothing is guaranteed except her mark on history. The last three weeks of her life were a testament to the unpredictability that comes with being a fighter. 

In late March, Lee was scheduled to fight as an amateur in New York City. Several days later, the fight was upgraded to a pro match, her debut, but the American opponent pulled out for unspecified reasons. Promoters in Holland then booked her for a pro debut in mid-April that was eventually moved to April 21st. And just three days ago, Lee received news that her opponent was changed from a fellow debutant to a fighter with two professional fights.

Lee’s response – “There’s no pressure. If my trainer says we are going to fight in April, then we fight in April. We just stay ready for everything. I am calm.”


Armed with natural athleticism, sheer work ethic, and a keen sense of awareness well beyond her 20 years, Lee is the epitome of a contender. Watching her train, it’s easy to see that blood, sweat, and tears are her preferred currency. With her pro debut looming, she has earned the right to call herself Suriname’s first, home-grown, professional female fighter.


The magnitude of her ground-breaking pro debut is something Lee uses as fuel for the soul. It also helps to validate her vision of not just fighting for Suriname but fighting from Suriname.


“I like traveling to other countries and seeing new things. It’s exciting. But if I stay too long I start to miss home,” Lee says.

Her last trip into the great expanse of international, amateur kickboxing came in October of 2017 when she and coach Angelo Simson traveled to NYC to face a highly touted Manhattan native. New York and Suriname are on opposite ends of the world’s spectrum. NYC is a concrete jungle where people, cars, and buildings dominate the landscape. Suriname, however, is home to the world’s most dense rainforest, where remote tribes and a relatively small urban community combine to make-up the country’s population of 550,000.


“New York was a great feeling. You see New York in movies and TV and then suddenly you’re there in Times Square. It was a big moment for me,” Lee says.

 
Lee’s humble persona does not exclude her from enjoying the ride she’s on, even if that ride happens to be the “L” train from Manhattan. After dismantling her opponent, Lee and trainer Simson rode the subway back to their hotel with trophy visibly in hand.




“So many strangers were so excited for me. A group of people stopped to give me a round of applause and wanted to take photos with me. Of all the moments I had in New York those were the best. I really loved that,” Lee says.


New York’s allure was fleeting and failed to diminish Lee’s commitment to Suriname. According to Lee, Suriname is essential to her fight prep. It is where her battery fills with the necessary nutrients to wage battles at home or on foreign shores.


“When I fight in Suriname I feel stronger. This is the country of my ancestors. This is the country where I was born. When I fight in other countries I take that power with me, but I have to come back to Suriname to re-charge,” Lee says.


Lee’s allegiance to Suriname puts her at the forefront of a new era in Surinamese kickboxing. While the impact of Surinamese kickboxers like Tyrone Spong, Ernesto Hoost, Remy Bojansky, and Illonca Elmont is undeniable, they did not hone their craft in Suriname. Spong and Elmont, for example, started kickboxing in Amsterdam as youths and represented Dutch gyms during their pro careers.

 
Lee’s home stable, Simson Gym, is a modest rooftop shed that juts out of the bush in a quiet neighborhood bordered by tropical mangroves and lush rainforest. It is thousands of miles from the kickboxing epicenters of Holland and Thailand, but the training regimen is more than comparable. Lee trains twice a day, six days a week.  You can catch her sneaking into the gym on Sunday mornings through the fire exit with male and female sparring partners in tow.


Thanks to her coaches, Lee claims her pre-training anxiety is far greater than anything she feels moments before a fight.

“The night before my last training session, my coaches told me they were going to be really hard on me. I was so nervous all day. I was very shaky, but I ended up confronting my fear and I killed the workout,” Lee says.


On fight night, it’s more about internal dialogue than managing nerves. “I try to talk to myself; to tell myself I’m going to do this.” Lee normally makes good on that promise. Her last loss was two years ago in nearby Brazil. Since then she is a perfect 7-0.


“I’m really glad I lost that fight. Before that, I was beating up a lot of girls and that loss really helped to bring me back down to earth.  I never want to experience that feeling again,” Lee says.


When the stresses of life in and out of the gym become too prevalent, Lee seeks the services of Suriname’s most heralded therapist, the jungle.


“Because I’ve been busy with school and training the jungle hasn’t seen me much, but when I go there I feel very calm, stress-free, like myself. I love the trees,” Lee says. 


The serenity of the Surinamese rainforest lies in sharp contrast to the treacherous economic climate in South America’s smallest country. Vast sectors of Surinamese society are struggling to stay afloat in a nationwide recession as the winds of modernity transform the jungle from a place of refuge into a tradeable commodity. Lee is aware of the glaring issues facing her fellow citizens. She sought ways to help the less fortunate well before she inked her first pro contract.


“My boyfriend and I volunteer at one of the orphanages helping kids. I can’t do much now and I know I can’t help everyone, but it’s important I do something. You have to start somewhere” Lee says.


The means to attract more attention to Suriname's internal issues might come sooner than later. Unlike men’s professional kickboxing, where it can take 30 fights to gain notoriety, a girl with Lee’s pedigree can easily become a superstar in less than ten pro fights.


“If she can entertain audiences and impress top match-makers then Glory will be calling sooner than later. I guarantee it,” coach Angelo Simson says of Lee’s chances of signing with top promotion Glory Kickboxing. Simson dreams of returning to the Big Apple with his star pupil to fight under the Glory banner.


Just ten days before her debut in Holland, the World Kickboxing Network confirmed Lee’s inclusion in a K-1 style tournament in Bulgaria in late June. To claim the tournament’s top prize, she will have to fight and win three times in one night. When Lee returns to Suriname in late April, she will immediately start an 8-week training camp in preparation for Bulgaria.


“When you see her in that tournament in Bulgaria she will be in the best shape of her life, but first things first, we need to stay focused on Holland,” Simson says.


While her predatory ring presence is reminiscent of feasting jaguar, outside of the ring Lee is vibrant, almost always smiling, and appreciative of her opportunity to leave an indelible mark on the world of kickboxing.


“I’m writing my own history and I love it,” Lee says.




Words by Keoni K. Wright
Images Courtesy of @chavellalee via Instagram

Monday, April 2, 2018

Painting Over the Ego: Thoughts on My First Holi Phagwah in Suriname


          








In Suriname, nestled somewhere between celebrations marking the birth of Christ and the redemptive celebration of Easter, there is Holi Phagwah. A Hindu holiday brought to this region by Indian indentured servants more than 100 years ago, Phagwah commemorates the triumph of good over evil, and at its foundation lies a bedrock of love and acceptance. Phagwah, however, is not a time for private reflection or proclamations of faith. It is a time for right-action, manifestation, and rejuvenation. It’s also a time to throw ungodly amounts of neon colored powder on friends, neighbors, and absolute strangers without repent.
Phagwah is a nation-wide holiday in Suriname and is celebrated publicly by Hindus and non-Hindus alike. As is usually the rhyme and rhythm for national holidays in Suriname, Phagwah starts off with smaller, familial gatherings, and as the day progresses it blossoms into an all-out party on the government lawn, several hundred yards from Suriname’s White House equivalent.
From an American perspective, it was shocking to see how close the Phagwah party was to important centers of government. And yet there were no M-16 touting agents lining the perimeter nor was the event shrouded by paranoia or a feeling that Big Brother was watching. The energy amongst the crowd of thousands couldn’t have been more jovial. The only terrorist among us was a bass-bomb dropping DJ at center stage. You would be remiss to expect anything less from a country like Suriname, where diverse cultures converge to collectively weave their perspectives into a technicolor quilt that blankets this tiny South American outpost.
Phagwah finds its roots in the Hindu legend of Vishnu and Prahald defeating an immortal demon king by employing crafty and elusive maneuvers. The tradition of throwing colorful powder on one another during Phagwah comes from a separate legend involving Krishna. Concerned his lover would not accept his dark blue skin color, Krishna, following the advice of his mother, painted his lover’s face a multitude of colors. The result was acceptance and true love.  
Ego dissolution plays a major role in achieving clarity along the path to overcoming life's evils. Although the ego tends not to dissolve unless in the presence of something hallucinogenic or meditative, the ego definitely struggles to shine through skin painted pink, purple, green, and blue. Use of Phagwah powder is not limited to any one part of the body nor is it a matter of being painted and then rushing to wash it off. Playful powder fights erupt like pillow fights throughout the day, staining clothes forever and skin for up to three days.
The art of tossing powder on passersby is something perfected over a lifetime. Techniques vary from majestic tosses at close range to long distance throws that paint the sky and fall like multi-colored snowflakes on the intended target. My first few attempts at powder tossing were more reminiscent of a WWE wrestler throwing salt in an opponent’s eyes.  After-which, I incessantly apologized by repeating the mantra, “Sorry, I’m an American. I’m an American, sorry.” 
The willingness of non-Hindus to step out of their religious nests is probably the most progressive bi-product of Phagwah, especially in a world where Christian retentions run the table of holy observances. And while Suriname’s citizens approach Phagwah with varying degrees of depth, the fact is, they still participate. 

Whether they view Phagwah as just an excuse to party or they consciously use it as a day to defeat their own demons, they all embrace the feeling of looking a little silly in public. Even more surprising, they do it with never-ending, genuine smiles on their faces. Every city in the world needs Phagwah, and at the micro-level, every tribe of friends needs a day where the only agenda is forging new bonds while erasing negative vibes in plumes of bright color.


Words By Keoni K. Wright

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