Surinam

Hey they drive on the left in this country. Surprising to me and took me a little while to recognise it. Ah well we did own them for a while eh. They also have bombed out shitlanes as excuses for a road. It was so pot holed it could have been taken straight from the Somme. It wrecks vehicles and most of the drivers who drive fast end up ravaged by the road. We saw one serious accident and the corpses of many other cars littered the roads. We also found some Brazilians who had to hop into my taxi because the tyres on their cars had been completely schredded. They told me about a party out at White Beach that night but sadly we never made it as it sounded like it would have been interesting.

Surinam is jungle. A lot of jungle. With the occasional wooden hut. One long road. Many wooden huts. Innumerable potholes. Thats Surinam. Then you hit Paramaribo (Parbo as the locals call it and so will I to save typing time). You go over an arching river and plunge into a busy city. Then you hit the colonial district. This city is very pretty. Like Charleston crossed with Salem. Loads of old wooden Dutch buildings from the 16th and 17th centuries. Very pretty. Wharfs and roads that look like they have remained static for centuries. Its remarkable that they weren´t cremated in some fires. This place is gorgeous to walk around in. Every turn is stunning. Like a wooden Dutch version of Guanajuato. I thought I could live there for ages (5 days later you realise there is not enough to keep you interested and nothing remotely interesting close to it this side of Caracas). They have a lovely palm tree lined park behind the palacial governors mansion. All the buildings are nice and smallish, with a good fort overlooking the squares. Its just a place to get lost in with your wanderings. It does not have a cinema though. Surinam has no cinemas. It must be the first country in the world I have been to with no cinemas (Maybe Haiti didn´t have them, but even the non country of Belize has some cinemas). There are also cash machine problems. Only one bank and one cash machine in Surinam will take foreign cards. Luckily its near the main hotels. The mix is awesome. Its the first time I have seen Indians since London really and the mix of Dutch, Indonesian, Indian and Maroon makes a very interesting and heady concoction. I think I described it on facebook as ´Charleston crossed with Salem, with Indian/Indonesian culture, dumped in the Caribbean, left to stew for a while and then given a Vegas twist with the casino culture´. Everyone speaks English here which is class. Easy to get around. I met only one Surinamese person who spoke no English. In the evening I met Joanna and her two Dutch friends, along with a German couchsurfer called Benedicta. We grabbed some food on the wharf with a local friend of theirs. Some of the locals were mashed and one woman had a can of beer poured over her head, but remained stubbornly passed out. We went clubbing afterwards and the music was mixed but fun. There was even a celebrity presence with Raymond from ´Raymond is Always Late´(Apparently its famous in Holland) in attendance. Benedicta had studied voodoo in Dominican Republic and lived in Papua New Guinea for a while (which is apparently incredibly dangerous and like a war zone. Damn it I wanted to visit while in Australia). We ended up with an argument with the taxi driver on the way back and turfed in around 5am. I had gone out alone to buy some water and got propositioned by the usual prostitutes. Then some guy pulled over and though I was his friend apparently, before asking if I was looking for a woman. I replied no, I was after a petrol station and did he know where one was. How he can mistake me for a friend is absurd. There are no white men in Surinam. Well a few. There are a lot of Dutch nurses though. Many, many blonde women and no men. Shame I hate blondes really. In the end I abandoned my search and headed back to the hotel where I had a bonkers dream about being in a relationship with Ana Ivanovic. Was fun while I was asleep anyway lol.

We woke up very late the next day as we had to go to Keti Koti festival or some such. It was not as big as I was hoping. We grabbed lunch at the festival in the paln tree park and most of the Maroon were out in traditional costume and the live music was good. They even had some capoeira. I was suspecting my foot was getting infected with Dom´s disease and I think its coming through now so will have to take care of that on the long buis journey. They had some kick arse African food though and that was worth trying. We had a few testy political and religious debates that we would have been more sensible leaving alone I think. Gus gets back from the jungle tomorrow and we chatted and watched the music all day before grabbing some dinner in the evening. We all turfed in early to save it for the weekend and I decided to stay in Parbo for the weekend and leave Guyana till later. I can do it briefly and then see Kaieteur Falls etc later. After travelling through it, it deserves time and is close enough to Roraima that I can do both when I come back up through Brazil.

The Dutch girls had gone back home and Benedicta and I went around the tour agencies as she wanted to do something. She eventually got a tour to see the turtles that would go early the next day and left me on my own for friday night. Then we went hammock shopping and saw a bit more of the town. Brownsweg I thought was doable in one day but I never tested it due to my casino visits and unreliable local information. We met Gus for dinner and got served by an insane mentally defective waiter. He was completely lost. Very smiley and happy, but oh so stupid and useless. You could not help liking him for his uselessness. He reminded me of that bit in ´No Country for Old Men´when Javier Bardem tells the petrol station attendant Ýou don´t know what you are talking about do you´. We then went to the poolside decking of one of the posh hotels and it has a great view over the river. The casino was crap though. On the way back a guy accosted Benedicta and me with a sign mentioning how his penis was out. His penis was out of where? His trousers? Out of semen? What? Ah no he could not write. It says cut. His penis was cut off in an accident/war in the jungle. That can´t be true. Surely. And how does having no penis mean he can´t work. Great sign though. I also found out that the voodoo shamans in Dominican Republic will sell you a zzombie if you want from between 20,000 Euros and 50,000 Euros. Fucking awesome. You can buy a zombie. I wonder what the defects are with the zombies at the low end of the market. Can you imagine bringing him through customs? Anything to declare? Yes, a motherfucking zombie. You have a zombie? Yes and yes his value of goods does exceed $10,000 but I don´t intend to sell him. What do you intend to do with him? I have no idea, but its a zombie, man. Thats good enough for me. Can bring him through the metal detectors, sniffer dogs won´t bother him because he is dead. All sorts of opportunities open up for your zombie. I want one. Anyone buying me a christmas present, thats what I want. A zombie. Though I will probably have to abandon him at the side of the road when I get bored or just stick him in my old bank. Noone would notice the difference. I went on to a casino on my own and made 150% profit before retiring to evict a cockroach from my room politlely. He exited via the door and made no trouble.

Again I woke up late and had no idea what time it was. Went to burger king (free refills), saw that Murray lost (see previous entry when I typed it), did some writing, they had a powercut so I played warcraft 3. First computer game in ages. I went to sleep, went to burger king again and then headed out to another casino. I made a 200% profit that time. Still flying high as always in the casinos. Found a funky bar road with an almost abandoned bar having music played by a kick arse dj. Awesome segueing. South America has loads of awful djs who always kill the build up and they have this amazing guy playing to noone. Such a loss. In the end I went to the other hostel and drank a litre of beer watching a medley of Michael Jackson videos with a stunning girl in the red. One of the rarer Dutch brunettes and very stunning.

The next day was Independence Day Baby. Walked around aimlessly and won 250% profit for lunch. I should just play these machines to fund my travelling. The French guys had come up to Parbo for the weekend and I found their hotel room to speak to Celine and the others. They wanted to sleep until later and suggested I meet them at 8pm. I met Benedicta at the hostel at 7pm and we were late to meet the French because we bumped into some interesting peace corp workers. One was called Adam from South Carolina and looked and acted like Matthew Broderick on speed. Very interesting guy. He could not join us at the casino Mirage because it was owned by drug dealers. Shame we did not heed him as I got massacred that night. Adam did conclude that the best word in the English language (ya´ll) was the perfect solution for the absence of vosotros. Very true. In the casino it was me, Benedicta and 5 French. The locals hate the Dutch, but they like the rest of us when they find out you are not Dutch. We met some local guys in the casino (who were probably tied to the drugs trade). They kept offering to take us hunting in the interior but I had no time sadly. Also some people were betting $10,000 on one number. High rollers. It was 500 SRD (125 Euros) a small bet on the poker table. There was some serious drug money rolling around. Tonge got hit by the marble roulette ball and then 10 minutes later he collapsed dead behind us. Fuck. I thought he must have had a heart attack from the ball strike. It turns out he was diabetic and his girlfriend Clementine managed to nurse him back to health. Our new Surinamese friend called off the heavies and we continued to play. I have a policy. Only bet what you can lose. Save half your winnings. Never play tables as they are fair. Only machines as they are biased against you and if you know that you can play them. I broke all my rules as they had no blackjack machines. I lost every hadn I made 20 on (unheard of) and got dealt 8 straight hands of 15 (impossible) and got annihilated for 75 Euros in half an hour. A massive hole punched in my budget from sheer stupidity. I even lost 50 SRD of Celines money and the French suggested I pay her back with sex. I thought they were joking, but now in hindsight they may have beens serious. I was in no position to perform anyway. I was trolleyed. The most drunk I have been on the trip. I don´t even remember writing my diary entry when I got back (actually maybe Zacatecas was worse as I don´t even remember going home). Short of the blackjack for sex offer we ended up playing roulette. I did better at that, but I was a Jonah all night. Even spanked through some of the drug dealers money they gave me but they did not seem to care. Nice bunch these Surinamese dealers. Better than the dealers behind the cards anyway. Even the sodding roulette table hit 0 twice in a row. It was not to be and I was a fucking idiot. I did get a massive amount of rum and cokes for free. We were with the dealers so service was fast and I drank somewhere between 20 and 30 of them after 12% proof beer and a litre of Parbo. I may have drank my losses in drink but it still was not worth it. Fun night though. The French ended mainly up and I had walked Benedicta back at one point. Was 7am and the bus I was supposed to catch had gone. Said goodbye to the Surinamese dude. Maybe see him again. Fun guy. Then I caught some sleep. But first I had scrawled ´Stupid, stupid betting. Missed bus. Any dealer Surinamese. Incapable of writing. Too much rum. Sleep it off.´ Which is quite funny in hindsight as I don´t remember writing it and I don´t know what the dealer line even means.

I took an afternoon bus to Nieuw Nickerie. The tennis was on in burger king as I tried to sober myself up. I think I stayed drunk until Guyana. Federer two sets all with Roddick. Was looking like a classic and indeed it seemed to turn out that way from all reports. My second travel journal has fallen apart and will have to retire this one as well. May hang on until Helen goes and send it with the other one. I was late and apologised to Joanna. We took some bikes out for a cycle around the rice fields. Stunning scenery. The colours are so rich in this part of the world and the sunsets are spectacular. Its an all Indian community out here in the west and they have substance abuse and abuse problems in general that you get in rural communities. The Dutch worked in psychology clinics for the locals. We found the dyke and went for a walk, but Joanna lost the key to the bike in the dark. We had to get some locals to hacksaw off the lock before we met her housemates for some cool Indonesian food. The Dutch bikes are weird. They have no breaks. You break by pedaling backwards. Very weird and I almost went over the handlebars the first time I tried it as they are very touch sensitive. She lost the keys again in the restaurant but had left them in the lock. The mosquitoes ravished us and are quite evil there. I had a money problem again and broke all the cash machines in town. It was going to be tight bto go through Guyana but I had my mixture of money (110 SRD, $60 although $10 is fake and I still have it, 50 Reals).