alaskanhobotouradventures - Tumblr blog

alaskanhobotouradventures · 10 years ago

Text

Suriname Log. March 14, 2013

I was steering when it happened. They assured me it wasn't my fault. As my mother’s son I will always blame myself though. I was steering as we made our way down the river from Kourou and I was steering once again. I don’t like driving a car, but I enjoy being at the helm. Unless things aren't going smoothly, then I become nervous and agitated. But overall I like being at the helm. That was all I did, on that small charter fishing boat, I worked for in high school. But it is very easy to not steer on a big sailboat with such precise autopilot control. I was able to make it down that muddy river channel just fine. Even as the current tried to push me to the wrong side of the buoys I handled that 48-foot pool toy just fine. Even though it’s difficult to see the bow unless you’re on your tiptoes. A day later I was at the helm again. This time we were sailing with the spinnaker.

She is stunning. But she is undependable. She doesn't show herself too often. She is a mesmerizing Hollywood starlet that just happens to be a drug addict and a flake. We have had multiple interventions and spent hundreds of dollars on her, the latest just a week before her latest debut. She seems so breathtaking you forget that she has consistently failed under pressure. Yes, she can make things happen like no other sail. She seemingly makes something out of nothing. But expect just a little more and she tears into pieces before your very eyes.

This time I was steering. I was doing well, keeping her full but not putting the rail in the water. It was a smooth ride. The winds were light of course. Otherwise, we wouldn't be using her. The winds had picked up ever so slightly but not enough to be of much concern. Then I saw the fisherman. Actually, there were two fishing boats we tried to avoid. I wanted to turn on the autopilot. The captain thought the autopilot would not be able to keep the sail full as well as someone at the helm. I adjusted the course 20 degrees on the compass. This made us pitch over quite a bit more. We had sailed like this with the spinnaker before. It shouldn't have been too much for her to handle.

But in an instant the sail was in the water. We thought the halyard had failed. But then we looked up. We saw the tattered second half of the sail. Repairs had been done and we had been warned that the fabric was weak and to be easy on it. But this was the third time it had torn. The sun had killed her prematurely. If it’s up to me, her replacement will have the aurora on it. The rest of the crew didn'tl ike my idea of having the captain and the admiral’s wedding photo stenciled onto the sail. I won’t say anything more about a boat being a woman. There are too many jokes. What with all those thru-hulls and having a big shaft inside her.

Oh I forgot to say some things about French Guyana. I bought Cayenne peppers. Not the powder but the real thing. They are hotter than I expected. I guess this is the capital’s only namesake. If you aren't sure where Cayenne is, instead of consulting your atlas consult your spice cabinet. It’s near coriander and cumin.

That was the only real excitement on our way to Suriname. The country you said isn't big enough to fit its name within its borders so it doesn't count as a real country. Well it is. I was there.

It was a two-day passage. Because of the tides we had to make our way up the river at night. All of the anchorages in the three Guyanas are on rivers. The channels start far from shore because shallow river muck lines the coast. There are no natural sand beaches. Ports would not exist without dredging. We fought the tide until we were just far enough behind the land to anchor at the head of the river. After two hours of napping the tide had changed. As Bob slept Bill and I made our way up the river at night. I steered with the autopilot as only someone who grew up with computers could. Bill was outside looking for lights and obstacles. Somehow we never hit any of the hundreds of pilings the fisherman use. We never even saw them. We didn't hit the big shipwreck with a light on it either. We saw mast lights after going up the river for 4 hours or so. We anchored and went to bed only to wake up the next morning to find out we were too far into the channel and would be hit by a barge, and re-anchored. It’s good we did. A big minesweeper military boat, some Dutch couple owned, was hit by a barge a few days later. It did serious damage. I’m glad we moved.

Domburg is the crown jewel of the Caribbean. Something about large numbers of angry stray dogs and poorly made Indonesian food sets my heart on fire. We thought there was a marina and basic services at a good price. There was no marina. Well, eventually we found out there was one up the river another hour. But we were already here. If nothing else it was authentic. All of the Guyanas are diverse because of the beautiful rainbow of people the melting pot of colonialism, slavery, and indentured servitude made possible. Suriname was used as an example of peaceful coexistence by the United Nations. It is the most diverse of the three countries in the Guyana shield.

First, the Dutch brought a lot of slaves. They were outnumbered at least 10 to 1 and were some of the cruelest slave owners the world has known. I guess this can make American slave owners feel good about themselves, “we treated our slaves well.” The life expectancy was low in tropical plantations and a large number of slaves escaped. These are the maroons. It means escaped animal in Dutch. Today they claim it is a French word for their skin color. But everyone knows it means escaped animal. There are six major maroon groups each with their own language. It is a misconception that these languages were brought from Africa. They are a piecemeal language of English Portuguese, Spanish, French, and many other sources. You might recognize a word here or there but you can’t follow them. If you combine the urban, never escaped, slaves with the maroons, the blacks are the largest group of people in Suriname. But their history is much different. The maroons hid in small villages in the jungle. The houses were constructed so you had to bend over to get in the door. When you tried to stand up they’d bang you on the head if they didn’t like you. BANG. BANG. They raided and burned the plantations. They placed their villages behind rapids so the Dutch couldn’t navigate the rivers to contact them. They learned to live off the bounty of the Amazon rainforest from the Amerindians. Because of this, today, the maroons and other blacks are treated as separate people.

After the abolishment of slavery the Dutch started bringing large numbers of indentured servants from India. But after a while the Brits, who controlled India at the time, said 'no more.' What was a hardworking Dutch businessman who happened to buy and sell people to do? Go get people from their own colony.

The next wave were the Javanese. From Indonesia. You know. The Dutch East Indies. I feel like a professor. Anytime you hear people talking about them you think they’re saying Japanese, and you don’t see any Japanese, and you realize you’re dumb. They’re eating bami goreng not udon. They are from Java.

And of course there are still Amerindians. I thought we celebrated Columbus day to celebrate successfully wiping out all of the Arawaks. It was kind of like eradicating polio. But the impediment to colonialism was people not microbes. There are still Arawaks. They live in Suriname.

Finally, there are the Chinese. The Old Chinese and the New Chinese. The Old Chinese have been here for about 100 years. The new Chinese are new. The Old Chinese no longer have strong ties to China. The new Chinese send what they earn back home. The New Chinese are buying up the country. They have gold claims. They have grocery stores. They have longer hours than all the other stores. It made the Indian shop owners angry. Everyone else closed from 2 to 4 pm. But not the New Chinese. Supposedly, the Old Chinese and New Chinese come together when it comes to having their own government. They have their own secret mafia police. There own system of loans that doesn’t involve any banks. So all of this was to tell you how diverse an assemblage of people and food Suriname has. And to say why the only food in Domburg is Indonesian. Because even though there is an internet café owned by an Indian, and several groceries run by the New Chinese, it is mostly an Indonesian town.

I thought it was the real deal. No one else really liked it. To add to their distaste on weekends it is where people from Paramaribo picnic. That means the youth are out with their jetskis and crazy spaceman suits that pump water from the river that comes out a jetpack on their back so they can fly twenty feet up in the air.

Eventually, we found out there was an actual marina upriver. But not before we got the Dutch perspective on Suriname from an aspiring businessman in Domburg. The president is a criminal. Suriname gained its independence in 1974. When Cap’n Bill was here in 1979 he saw large numbers of guerillas assembling deep in the jungle. Bill was here to work on a railroad to bring bauxite from a mine to port. Not an ounce of ore ever traveled on that railroad. The mine no longer exists. The railroad has been reclaimed by the jungle. Bill was only here for a few weeks. He saw a lot of snakes. He hacked at a termite mound with a machete and unsurprisingly was attacked by termites. The people were not happy. Perhaps this is why there was a coup. Bouterse organized the coup. It happened on the 25th of February 1980. In 1982 fifteen high-ranking government officials were killed on my birthday, December 8th. I’m always finding interesting new things out about my birthday. He ruled as military dictator from 1980 until 1987.

Bouterse is also a drug dealer. He is wanted in the Netherlands for drug smuggling. A lot of drug dealing. Remember this is the Dutch perspective. Suriname is one of the biggest departure points for cocaine to Europe, especially the Netherlands, as well as West Africa. The president was smart enough to not send it to the United States. If he did the US would intercede and that would put a stop to all the fun. As long as it’s going to Europe first and then comes to the US we don’t seem to mind. But even though he has multiple international arrest warrants he is beloved in Suriname. After all, he was democratically elected president in 2010. And now that he’s president he has immunity to the charges.

We went into Paramaribo several times. The first time was on Revolution Day, February 25. This was in honor of the coup back in 1980. It didn't become a holiday until Bouterse became president in 2010. There weren’t any fireworks like on our revolution’s designated holiday, July 4th. But nearly everything was closed and there wasn’t any traffic. It was nice. Rati, our 70 something year old taxi driver who isn’t really a taxi driver took us on a tour of Paramaribo. What he thought were important things to point out to us weren’t what most tourists would think of visiting. We saw the water tower. We saw the power station. I guess he was proud of all the modern infrastructure they have today that they didn’t have when he was a boy. We were able to also see what we were interested in visiting.

There is a beautiful wooden church in Paramaribo. I’m glad I wasn’t the one doing the varnishing. It was covered in scaffolding. But it was still stunning inside. Perhaps it is the largest all wooden structure in the Americas, maybe the largest in the Caribbean, perhaps the largest in Suriname. Whichever it is, it was impressive. So many churches are just gold and stone and plaster, or the drab wooden structures of Lutherans. It has big round leaded windows. Each one is different. They’re kindof like snowflakes. But leaded glass is poisonous and doesn’t melt like snowflakes. I approve.

We also saw the president’s palace. It’s as boring looking as the White House. Its white and there’s a flag out front. While driving in concentric circles because of all the one way streets we looked for the old hotel Bill had stayed in 30 some years ago. We didn’t know the name and never recognized it if we saw it. A lot can change in 30 years, including the façade on a hotel. A point of pride in Suriname is that they have a synagogue next store to a mosque. They even share a parking lot. Not far up the street is a Hindu temple. I think they’re all good neighbors. Even if they each try to one up each other with how ostentatious their temple is. Our Dutch informant just thinks its too hot and they’re too lazy to fight.

The waterfront on the river has changed a lot over the years. Instead of selling unrefrigerated meat with swarms of flies around it they now sell trinkets by the river. I bought my sister coconut shell earrings. Let’s see if she reads this.

As the week went on we kept going back to Paramaribo again and again. We didn’t want to, but we did. We went to see those reptilian men and women in uniform at immigration as well as the friendly folks at customs. In order to go on a tour of the jungle we first had to make tour arrangements. This can be a headache when on your own. When having multiple people trying to decide on something by the end of the process you want to put them in a shallow grave. But if you did that you would still have to pay for their portion of the tour. There’s a four person minimum. Bob was not interested in going into the jungle. He prefers a good hotel bar with a good martini over jungle rainstorms and mosquito netting. We explained how we already had to pay for 4 people anyways so he could essentially go for free or we couldn’t go at all. He came.

Nothing comes easily. We found out that large trees and rafts of debris float down that muddy river. One came towards us and someone came on a dinghy and explained how by turning the rudder in the river current you can maneuver away from these floating rafts while at anchor. But we were kind of worried about being hit by a giant tree while we weren’t on board. It could easily cause us to drag anchor. We talked with a large crowd of Dutchman about it. They said it was a real concern. And none offered to check on the boat. And even though they didn’t have nice things to say about the marina they did say it was the best option of where to keep our boat while we were gone.

The marina was very nice. The sailors in Domburg had made it sound like a barely constructed do-it-yourself marina. I guess these are common in Greece. Although it isn’t completely finished, it was one of the nicest I’ve been to. It was simple, but it was done well. Perhaps I don’t like floating condominiums or aquatic RV parks. Although it was fun to befriend Domburg’s hoodlums I preferred the fruit trees and birds and monkeys in the jungle surrounding the marina to having hundreds of wasps follow me around and drown themselves in my energy drinks.

Energy drinks are supposed to repel bugs. I don’t think I ever finished a beer or a juice or anything else while there without spitting out a wasp at the bottom of the drink. I spit them out in terror at first and annoyance after the third one. I wouldn’t miss that beggar kid either. Everyone in town described him as a pest. He sold some of the most derelict looking fruit I saw in the country. But both Marjorie and I made the mistake of buying some. Oh yes, Marjorie met us in Suriname. That’s an important thing I should say. Marjorie bought mangos. I bought something they call apples. I don’t know what they really were. I saw the tree. It wasn’t an apple tree.

A lovely young dutch woman helped us tie up to the marina. She was the manager. But it was clear that she had once been married to an Englishman. She wouldn’t let us leave the messy ends of our docking lines on the dock. They gave us free delicious fried Dutch food. The compass in the bar pointed the right direction. She gave us a ride to meet our tour. We would be going to Ralleighvallen in the Central Suriname Nature Reserve. It would be a 4 hour drive on bad dirt roads followed by a two and a half hour ride in a dugout canoe with an outboard up river. We would be able to see the Amazon rainforest. Although Suriname is not in the Amazon basin the forest still counts as the Amazon rainforest. I saw walking palms, I was chased by monkeys, I fed lizards grapefruit. But I already have people writing me threats for not writing logs. So here is the first half.

0 notes

alaskanhobotouradventures · 10 years ago

Text

Daniel's Eulogy, given by Richard Glass, September 28, 2013

All,

Thank you so much for coming here today. The support we've seen this week has been amazing from the emails, to the calls, to the facebook posts, to the dinners and to you all just being here - thank you. This has been an incredibly difficult week for all of us, and the support means a lot. All of us here will need that support into the future as well.

South African Nobel Peace Prize winner Desmond Tutu once said: "We are who we are through our relationships with one another; this is the essence of being human."

And I looked up to him, and not just because he ended up being taller. But because he would hear me say a nice quote from some famous and respected person and he would point out that it was kind of wrong. Plenty of other things, he would say, like plants, fungi, are defined and survive based on their relationships with one another. Ok Daniel, so what is the essence of being human? And I bet his answer would be something like: we are the primates of the family Hominidae and the only extant species of the genus Homo. Great thanks Dan. But still, what is the essence of being human?

Well, I'm not sure, and in thinking about everything Daniel taught me, I know that what he ultimately did, was teach me how to be human.

Many times when people who knew me met my brother for the first time, they would say something like "you and your brother are so different, I can't believe you are related." I never quite knew what to think of that statement. When I was younger, I interpreted that as Daniel needed to be more like me: shower everyday, focus on getting along, don't make waves. But as I got older and did my own exploring, I realized that I needed to be a bit more like Daniel. Not in the sense of not wearing clean clothes, but in being more courageous, authentic, funny, and loving.

Dan was courageous. Sure, courageous in the generic way of spending days on the open ocean on a 48 foot sailboat or fishing, or rock climbing, or exploring new places. But more importantly, he was courageous for being himself. So much of our existence is dealing with society. We are groomed by the television, our parents, our peers, and schools to be a certain way. We think everything will be ok, if we just all abide by the certain rules and expectations we've set for ourselves over the generations. And every so often, there comes a person who looks at all that and realizes the emperor has no clothes. Many people don't know how to handle that. It threatens them and their sense of self. But the old ones, the young ones, and the smart ones - they love it. When a person like Daniel comes around to make them think differently, to challenge them, to engage them - it is transcendent. It makes us see how amazing we all are and our planet. The people who have the courage to challenge us to find new ways of thinking are what advance us individually and as a whole. And Daniel had the courage to do that.

Daniel was authentic. Authentic is the buzzword floating around business and political classes. Oh, I can motivate my people by being authentic and then I'll be successful. Very few people really know what it means though. They think it involves things like 'active listening' and saying how you feel. And you ask people to define the term authentic, and they get a blank look and say something like "oh, it is being yourself." Well, ok, yes. But first you have to know yourself. And Daniel knew himself, loved himself, and shared himself. That was being authentic. And authentic is unique. Everyone is different, but for the most part, we pretend we aren't. So, when Daniel came around in celebration of all who he was, we listened. Not because we felt like we had to, but because we wanted to. Because he had novel things to say. Because he made us look at the world in a different way. Because he was funny.

Daniel was funny in the way a joker is funny to a king. Funny in the way that makes you realize your own ridiculousness. He would say things like: Last year I saw a giant albatross, I tasted its tears. They were delicious.

And that might be what I'm going to miss the most about Daniel. His irreverent, insightful, and biting humor. A few weeks ago, on a Saturday morning, I missed a call from Daniel and he left a voicemail. He said "morning, richard, you are probably out at home depot getting stuff for your house projects on this beautiful saturday morning." I listened to the voicemail and smiled because there I was in the Ikea checkout line. I think Daniel was out on a fishing boat catching salmon or out collecting chanterelle mushrooms from the forest. His existence and comments and the way he lived his life, brought me back to what is important and why we are all here.

And what is important? It is love. Daniel loved people. He loved his friends and his family. He loved his cat Kaya. And he loved in the sense that he was accepting and fascinated with everyone. As my wife Amanda says "he brought out the best in me." And I'm sure that is true for everyone here. Daniel brought out the best in all of us. Though, now that I think about it, he could also bring out the worst. Daniel was my brother and we would fight. He knew how to piss me off better than anyone. And it usually involved a conflict between me taking the safe route and Dan pushing me to take a risk. Or it just involved me trying to get him to brush his teeth or wear a pair of pants that didn't have grease stains all over them. But it became ok and it was actually a bit refreshing when he would get under my skin. There aren't a lot of people that you've been with since their birth, and I'm not sure I understand myself right now without him.

But we still have the question: what is the essence of being human? Sure, it is the physical being, but many of us did not see Daniel everyday and maybe only a few times a year if we were lucky. We would get emails, texts, and calls. But I would say that the essence of being human is the idea of someone. You know this person exists and he helps define you. You understand the world a bit better because of how he viewed it and reflected on it. You can bounce ideas off of him and see what he thinks. It is an idea of the person that keeps someone alive. And now that Daniel is gone, there are no new memories to be made with him. We won't be getting new logs with uncanny insights into the human condition. We won't be listening to fascinating stories. We won't be eating his food. But we can still think of him and remember him. And as we go through the rest of our lives, we all need to be a bit more courageous, authentic, funny and loving. We all need to be a bit more like Daniel.

2 notes · View notes