It is an impossible task to summarize my eight-week trip into a few words but I can say, without a doubt, that my summer in Suriname was eye-opening. It opened my eyes to the priorities of environmental organizations, to the difficulties of living and working in a low-income country, and to many meanings of the term “conservation”. It also opened my eyes to the indescribable beauty of Amazonian rainforest, to the improbable understandings between multiple cultures and religions, and to the deliciousness of local tropical fruits. In eight weeks, I got just a taste of the colourful culture and tropical heat, but this little former Dutch colony has certainly left an imprint on me.
At Conservation International Suriname, I contributed to the marine programs by researching ongoing Fishery Improvement Projects and methodologies used in conducting fish spawning research. I also spent the bulk of my internship working with the Direction of Communications and Development on a funding proposal for a mangrove restoration project. I had the opportunity to meet conservationists from Guyana and Brazil, visit the mangrove field site and get muddy out on an airboat, and figure out how to break down a million-dollar budget. I learned to answer questions such as: “how many man-hours will it take to build six Sediment Trapping Units?” and “how many juvenile mangroves do we purchase?” and “how much will it cost to ship lab equipment to Suriname?”
Spending time in the office, I also gradually began understanding the organization’s approach towards conservation. CIS has programs are focused on starting community-based enterprises, partnering with local businesses, and building capacity in communities and government ministries. I had many critical discussions with colleagues about our own philosophies regarding environmental organizations and nature protection. Over my eight weeks, I discovered how much “conservation” work is not just science, but management, business, education, communications—and patience.
Outside of the office, I also learned to navigate Paramaribo—a city with no reliable public transportation, buildings no higher than six storeys, and people who mostly spoke Dutch or Sranan Tongo. I learned that rainy season meant that it poured every day from 2:30 to 3pm, but sometimes rain lasted longer and flooded the roads (I came home one day to find a leaking ceiling too). I ate tempeh sandwiches and roti for lunch and bought a fair share of Javanese dishes and snacks at the local markets. I went to a Muslim-Javanese festival to celebrate Eid-al-Fitr and I finished off my eight weeks at an Indigenous Day fair. On the weekends, I tagged along on trips around the area, exploring Nieuw Amsterdam’s fort, touring a butterfly farm, and meeting families. I lounged in many hammocks, went swimming in a cola-coloured creek, and learned that “fun” could mean sitting on the property gate and watching the 5 o’clock traffic jam build up.
Twice, I went into the Amazon. Suriname is 94% covered by forests but experiencing them is not something most locals can afford. The roads are just dirt and potholes, areas only sparsely lived in by Maroon and Indigenous groups, and ecotourism is developing but not a major interest of the government. The most memorable part of my travels was climbing up the iconic Voltzberg, one of the few rock structures that reach higher than the treetops, and seeing rainforest reach out indefinitely all around me. The sight (and climb) was breathtaking and put into perspective the enormity of areas that have never been studied and are vulnerable to future exploitation.
Coming back to Harvard (and to my semester abroad in Denmark), I am not only re-appreciating reliable transportation, medical services, and a democratic government, but also reconsidering my career options ahead. This summer has opened interests in studying ecosystem-based climate adaptations and natural resource management. It has taught me about working in a non-profit organization and in a country with limited financial resources. It has also reaffirmed my beliefs in protecting biodiversity and in finding solutions that benefit both humans and nature.
Suriname is definitely a unique place to see. If you do visit, bring bug spray and beware of the spicy Madame Jeanette peppers!
At Conservation International Suriname, I contributed to the marine programs by researching ongoing Fishery Improvement Projects and methodologies used in conducting fish spawning research. I also spent the bulk of my internship working with the Direction of Communications and Development on a funding proposal for a mangrove restoration project. I had the opportunity to meet conservationists from Guyana and Brazil, visit the mangrove field site and get muddy out on an airboat, and figure out how to break down a million-dollar budget. I learned to answer questions such as: “how many man-hours will it take to build six Sediment Trapping Units?” and “how many juvenile mangroves do we purchase?” and “how much will it cost to ship lab equipment to Suriname?”
Spending time in the office, I also gradually began understanding the organization’s approach towards conservation. CIS has programs are focused on starting community-based enterprises, partnering with local businesses, and building capacity in communities and government ministries. I had many critical discussions with colleagues about our own philosophies regarding environmental organizations and nature protection. Over my eight weeks, I discovered how much “conservation” work is not just science, but management, business, education, communications—and patience.
Outside of the office, I also learned to navigate Paramaribo—a city with no reliable public transportation, buildings no higher than six storeys, and people who mostly spoke Dutch or Sranan Tongo. I learned that rainy season meant that it poured every day from 2:30 to 3pm, but sometimes rain lasted longer and flooded the roads (I came home one day to find a leaking ceiling too). I ate tempeh sandwiches and roti for lunch and bought a fair share of Javanese dishes and snacks at the local markets. I went to a Muslim-Javanese festival to celebrate Eid-al-Fitr and I finished off my eight weeks at an Indigenous Day fair. On the weekends, I tagged along on trips around the area, exploring Nieuw Amsterdam’s fort, touring a butterfly farm, and meeting families. I lounged in many hammocks, went swimming in a cola-coloured creek, and learned that “fun” could mean sitting on the property gate and watching the 5 o’clock traffic jam build up.
Twice, I went into the Amazon. Suriname is 94% covered by forests but experiencing them is not something most locals can afford. The roads are just dirt and potholes, areas only sparsely lived in by Maroon and Indigenous groups, and ecotourism is developing but not a major interest of the government. The most memorable part of my travels was climbing up the iconic Voltzberg, one of the few rock structures that reach higher than the treetops, and seeing rainforest reach out indefinitely all around me. The sight (and climb) was breathtaking and put into perspective the enormity of areas that have never been studied and are vulnerable to future exploitation.
Coming back to Harvard (and to my semester abroad in Denmark), I am not only re-appreciating reliable transportation, medical services, and a democratic government, but also reconsidering my career options ahead. This summer has opened interests in studying ecosystem-based climate adaptations and natural resource management. It has taught me about working in a non-profit organization and in a country with limited financial resources. It has also reaffirmed my beliefs in protecting biodiversity and in finding solutions that benefit both humans and nature.
Suriname is definitely a unique place to see. If you do visit, bring bug spray and beware of the spicy Madame Jeanette peppers!
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