Cycling to Suriname

One of the things I love most about Amsterdam is the incredible diversity of its inhabitants. The city is home to more than 130 different nationalities and a ten-minute walk will take me to the door of restaurants run by people of Moroccan, Italian, Lebanese, Chinese, Surinamese, Japanese, Turkish, Thai, Greek and Fusion descent. The truth is I am more likely to taste cultural distinctions than I am to see or hear them: almost everyone in our kaleidoscopic city, regardless of their background, is inclined to leave their own culture at home and adhere to one of the cardinal principles of Dutch society: act normal and blend in.

Fortunately, there are also opportunities to explore and celebrate the differences. I experienced this first-hand last weekend, when I attended the launch of two books of poetry by Ezra de Haan and Raj Mohan. Ezra had asked me to translate two of his poems into Afrikaans and English, and I read them along with poets who had translated his work into Czech, German and Sarnami, a Hindu dialect spoken in Suriname.

I am embarrassed to admit that I had never heard of this language. Fortunately, Raj Mohan was on hand to read and sing some of his beautiful poems in Dutch and Sarnami, many of which deal with the invisible baggage that many immigrants carry with them. It is, of course, beyond the scope of this piece to sketch the complicated bond between Holland and Suriname, the former Dutch colony in South America. (Hopefully, a helpful reader will suggest a good book on the chequered history of the two countries.) However, having heard and seen Raj’s presentation I decided to avoid future embarrassment by checking the web for information on the languages of Suriname.

The Suriname River at Berg & Dal by Raj Mohan

To my delight, I discovered that Suriname is one of the most multilingual countries in the world, and it seems fitting that its many languages should read like a poem: Dutch, Sranan Tongo, Hindi, English, Sarnami, Javanese, Malay, Bhojpuri, Hakka, Cantonese, Saramaccan, Paramaccan, Ndyuka, Kwinti, Matawai, Cariban, Arawakan, and Kalina, as well as Portuguese and Spanish.

What makes this list even more impressive is that Suriname has a population of under 500,000, while as many as 330,000 people of Surinamese origin live in the Netherlands. They are an integral part of Dutch culture, particularly in Amsterdam. I love Surinamese food, my children use words like duku (money) and fattu (joke), and players like Gullit, Rijkaard, Seedorf, Kluivert and Davids have helped make Dutch football a pleasure to watch. And yet it was poetry that sparked my curiosity, distilling the essence of complex issues, sketching history and culture with a few well -chosen lines, and prompting me to check my bank balance to confirm that there wasn’t enough for a ticket to Paramaribo.

I’d like to thank Raj and Ezra for pointing me in the right direction by sharing two of their poems about Suriname. Hopefully, they will inspire you to take a closer look at the cultures around you and to celebrate the diversity of the world just beyond your front door.

Heritage (Raj Mohan)

I have carefully immersed
the shadow of my ancestors
in the streaming waters
of Banáras
beside an old bathing spot
in the lap of Mother Ganges

sludge of Suriname
clinging to my soles
still leaving tracks
on the shining flagstones
of Holland

step by step

Paramaribo (Ezra de Haan)

Phosphor white lights
up the heavens
in broad nightlight
when thunder strikes the table.
The swaying silhouettes of palms
reflect in puddles
where sidewalks are lacking
the street streams like a river
and cars become ships.
Nature is briefly a beast
growls, snarls and strikes
out its claws.
Then skulks away.
Sleeps.

(The poetry of Raj Mohan and Ezra de Haan is published in Dutch by In de Knipscheer. I also urge you to take a look at this clip of Raj singing in Sarnami.)

Richard