I hadn’t heard of the Commewijne district before we arrived in Suriname.

I had maybe read a bit about the area and its importance during Dutch Colonial times, but knew nothing of its modern state. We hadn’t planned to go there, and without three fantastic local friends we’d made, we probably would never have.

But our day in the Commewijne district, just across the Suriname River from Paramaribo, has become the travel day I think of most fondly when reminiscing about travels past. Given the breadth of experiences we’ve had on the road, bestowing that title to a single day is a lofty task, and I hope I have your attention for this post that’s over a year in the making. Writing about a day so perfect is tricky because you want to do the day justice, like trying to paint a picture of the perfect view – if you can’t improve on it, then why even try?

This is merely my long winded way of saying that Suriname is special to us, and of all the places we visited in Suriname, our time in the Commewijne was the most memorable.

Our Surinamese Host Family: Wim, Anita, and Carmen

I’ve written previously about Wim, Anita, and Carmen in a couple of other posts on Suriname, but I’ll recap here. We met the trio on our way to Knini Paati, site of my great jungle breakdown. Wim was a fixture at Knini Paati and played the role of camp counselor at the interior lodge, guiding us to swimmable rapids and introducing us to the local Maroon populations at the village of Nieuw Aurora. Though born in Suriname, he spent his professional career as a detective in Holland. Retired now, he winters in Paramaribo and spends as much time in the jungle as possible.

Carmen and Anita, aunt and niece technically, but much more like sisters, had also spent much of their lives in The Netherlands. Both were spry and opinionated, and immediately took David and me under their wings – our new found Surinamese host mothers. The warmth with which the three of these people embraced us was unlike anything I’d experienced in ages. We meet truly lovely people in every country we visit, but Wim, Anita, and Carmen are the only ones I regularly send pictures of our dogs to on WhatsApp.

A Free Day in Paramaribo

Our last full day in Suriname was February 25, 2017. We were originally going to have a day trip to French Guiana (just over the border to see the abandoned prison in St. Laurent du Maroni), but were so head over heels with Paramaribo that we decided to stay in town. It was Revolution Day, a public holiday in Suriname, so the shops were largely shuttered. President Desi Bouterse had spoken in the morning, on what was the 37th anniversary of his bloody siege of the Surinamese government, and by late morning the city’s residents had retreated to rest through the thick, equatorial noontime.

Wim, Anita, and Carmen (referred to from now as “our host family”) had stayed a day later than us at Knini Paati, and had invited us to spend the day before our departure with them. David and I strolled around Paramaribo’s sights (without any other sightseers, I should add), taking pictures and eating roti, before our host father was to pick us up.

We were finishing off a late morning djogo of Parbo beer, when Wim pulled up to our guest house. He rolled down his window, leaned out, and announced, “Today, we’re going to the Commewijne.”

A (Not so) Brief History of the Commewijne

So, here we are, back to the Commewijne, an area of Suriname I knew precisely nothing about. Here’s the magic about that – I am a compulsive travel planner, but there is no possible way for anyone in the world to know everything about a place, so there’s always going to be a place like the Commewijne wherever you travel. A place you know nothing about, and where you also happen to be. Travel serendipity – it’s the best! Start thinking about it – what’s the place where you had this kind of experience?

What is your Commewijne?

Here’s your quick primer on the Commewijne district. Until colonial times the area was home to rich indigenous culture that today exists in more remote parts of the district and further into the country’s interior. The area was first colonized by the British, but the Dutch believed the land to be so agriculturally valuable, they agreed to trade Fort Amsterdam (today’s New York City) for it in 1667.

The Commewijne district was comprised of high-yielding plantations, worked by slaves brought forcibly from West Africa. The Dutch sugarcane, coffee, cocoa, and cotton businesses were built on the backs of slaves for nearly 200 years until 1863. Slavery was abolished then, and most of the African population either moved to Paramaribo or to Maroon communities inland. This left the Dutch in a bind.

Just kidding guys, the Dutch were basically like, “Hmm, well let’s just import slaves from other parts of our empire and call them something that doesn’t sound as bad as ‘slave.’” And thus began first the East Indian and slightly then the Javanese migrations to the Guianas as “indentured laborers.” Apologies for the air quotes.

I should point out that the East Indian migrant population came from British India, and also settled in British Guiana (now Guyana). For all intents and purposes, the Dutch and the British were colonizers in cahoots in the Guianas, swapping tips and tricks on how to be a shittier group of colonialist a-holes.

But many Hindustani and especially Javanese-Surinamese stayed in the Commewijne to work land, or more frequently now, to retire. Like the Florida of Holland, but not terrible. Identity politics are surprisingly uncomplicated, and while one may identify as a member of a certain group (Javanese, Maroon, Hindustani, etc.), the different groups of people seem to live under a sort of unified, laid back, Surinamese code. While Hindustanis are technically the largest group in Suriname, their proportion hovers only slightly above a quarter. The Asian predominance in the Commewijne is apparent, with mosques and temples sprouting from the omnipresent tropical greens and browns.

There is also a sizeable Chinese population in the Commewijne, as they own the monopoly on brick and mortar retail. Forever wacky, cheap fiberglass buildings line the roads on the outskirts of Meerzorg. In Suriname, as in anywhere else in the world, the Chinese immigrant entrepreneurial spirit is on full display, and shops bursting with cheaply Chinese-made goods are ubiquitous. There’s even special Chinese-Surinamese cuisine – we only ate it once, and it was prepared by an Indo-Maroon woman. But that’s Suriname.

Paramaribo and the Commewijne: A Changing Relationship

The easiest way to get to the Commewijne from Paramaribo is to take the bridge. After Wim picked us up, it was a quick drive to Carmen’s before heading to the hinterlands. A modern engineering marvel (in Surinamese terms, at least), the Jules Wijdenboschbrug spans nearly a mile and is high enough to allow container ships to pass under it. It was finished just twenty years ago, before which it was more of a trial to get from the capital to the Commewijne. Today boats still ply the brown waters between the two, leaving from the shore side of the Centrale Markt/Central Market, to the Commewijne side of the river at either Meerzorg or Fort Nieuw Amsterdam. We took a car, so I can’t speak for prices of the boat, but I can’t imagine it would cost more than 20SRD (under $3USD) to get from one side to the other.

“Life was much different in the Commewijne before the bridge was built,” Wim told us. He explained the positives of both having and not having the bridge. Not having the bridge meant maintaining a more relaxed way of life, and having the bridge meant more opportunity. And in a rapidly developing world, Suriname needed to keep up if it wanted to remain competitive. Wim seemed both nostalgic and hopeful.

Meerzorg

The first development you’ll see when you enter the Commewijne from Paramaribo is Meerzorg. A more jaded traveler could call Meerzorg run down or empty, but I thought it was totally cute. Meerzorg was nearly deserted, save a bar, restaurant, and a Surinamese cash for gold kiosk.*

Wim valiantly led us through downtown, which in Meerzorg is a single block, dead ending at river docks on the Suriname River. Embracing the men and offering a snack of bakabana (see later), Wim charmed all of our ways onto a boat for a quick putter around the harbor.

Here’s an aside: Can I say how nice it is making friends with extroverts on the road? Give me an extrovert I can latch on to like a suckerfish on a shark and I am good to go. I am usually able to get out of my shell a little, especially when speaking a foreign language, but if I don’t have to? It’s a rare treat. Wait…I guess that’s why people hire tour guides.

We’re on a Boat

Upon leaving Meezorg, we made our way south. Immediately to our left were several fishing boats hailing from Belém and Macapá in Brazil. Brazilian fishermen have started more aggressively fishing the waters around Suriname and French Guiana, as the waters around the mouth of the Amazon are chronically overfished and polluted beyond healthy standards. The boys from Brazil, as I dubbed them, were having a lazy early afternoon. Maybe napping off some cachaça, they seemed content to lounge about their deck sunning in trademark Brazilian sungas.

Saying goodbye to the boys, we motored on to what could be a real tourist attraction in Paramaribo. There, in the middle of Paramaribo’s harbor, upstream even from the Jules Wijdenbosch bridge, rests the Goslar: A 1930s German merchant ship, where it’s remained unmoved for nearly 80 years.

The story is this – Germany and The Netherlands were trading partners prior to World War 2, and as such, Germany regularly had merchant ships anchored in Paramaribo. When word that war had been declared reached the sleepy provincial outpost in 1940, the German expatriates in Suriname made haste to destroy all their resources that could potentially be co-opted by the Dutch in war efforts. Thus, they sunk the Goslar in the center of Paramaribo harbor, and it remains as Suriname’s silent witness to wars fought amongst empires across the oceans.

Our boat driver took us very close to the ship, now broken in two and officially part of the river’s ecosystem. Wim told us that when he was a child growing up in the Commewijne, they would row out to the boat and have picnics and suntan on its hull. Whether this actually happened or if Wim was simply prone to exaggeration is anyone’s guess, though anyone to attempt such a picnic today would surely be rewarded with a robust case of tetanus.

The Commewijne: The Javanese Heartland of Suriname via the Stomach

We returned to the jetty in Meerzorg looking for sustenance, and walked into the first open warung we saw. For the uninitiated, a warung is an Indonesian name for a mom and pop type of place – and thanks to the Javanese prevalence in the area, warungs are everywhere. I apologize for participating in this awful travel blogging trope but…they are really, really cheap and the food is seriously, seriously delicious.

More traditional Indonesian bamie and nasie, fried noodles and rice, respectively, will always be on offer. At our first warung there were also lumpia-esque dumplings which were delicious and not vegetarian-friendly (sorry, David!). You can also typically find the mainstay Surinamese street snack: bakabana. Bakabana will be your favorite thing when you try it. Length-wise pieces of plantain, fried, and topped with a spicy peanut sauce. Bam. The prices for what I’ll call “mains” are under $2USD, with bakabana served in a family sized portion for under $3USD. Truly, our experiences with Indonesian food in Suriname are right up there with local Carib-Indo roti in terms of favorite foods we’ve ever eaten while traveling.

Later in the day, picking up dinner for everyone, we stopped at another warung – Warung Aminie was a barebones place, without distinction other than a rainbow pennant banner hanging from its roof. I’m including it as a pin in the map at the bottom of the post (Warung #2, Nieuw Amsterdam), but honestly, you will be able to find amazing Indonesian food in every slightly developed part of the Commewijne for similar prices. Just look for the word “warung,” and know your Indonesian-Surinamese food basics (bamie, nasie, bakabana) and you won’t go wrong.

We were very fortunate to be in a car that day, as the distances between settlements in the Commewijne can be quite far. But it was on these drives between places, surrounded by vast stretches of wet vegetation, where we caught secret glances into daily life in the Commewijne. Interspersed throughout the former plantations and undeveloped land were Hindu and Islamic places of worship – most Hindustani and Javanese-Surinamese continue to practice Hinduism and Islam from their ancestral homelands. Their architecture and use of color is remarkable – like cartoons in their proportions, painted loudly to stand out from the surrounding land. I’m convinced a series of photos on the rural religious structures of the Guianas could be the next Soviet Bus Stops.

The Tourist Hot (or Not) Spot: Fort Nieuw Amsterdam

The Commewijne district’s nearest approximation of a tourist attraction is the park containing the ruins of Fort Nieuw Amsterdam. I had learned of this fort a week earlier, after rushing from a rickety plane ride from Georgetown to a meeting with Mr. Jerry A-Kum, former director of the Suriname Tourist Foundation. I was a sweaty mess during my meeting with him, and now always make sure I have at least one set of clothes to make me resemble a functioning member of society for when I really need it..

Fort Nieuw Amsterdam was built in the 1730s and 40s as a fortification to prevent deter invasion. Sitting at the confluence of the Suriname and Commewijne rivers, it is a place that was once of considerable strategic importance, but today there is little touristic fanfare around it. That honor is dealt more to Fort Zeelandia, Paramaribo’s colonial fortress counterpart. Fort Zeelandia is well-kept and polished for the Dutch walking over from their luxury hotel compound downtown, while Fort Nieuw Amsterdam is where the locals barbeque fish caught from the river, drink beer, and watch the water. We strolled around for a bit, not considering the place’s turbulent past, but rather its lovely present.

Anita’s House, Rural Commewijne

Leaving the park, we came to find out Wim had grown up in the very neighborhood surrounding it. He didn’t tell us, but rather indicated such by reciting the names of the families that lived in each house on each block leading back to the district’s main arterial road.

We picked up another Javanese lunch from the nondescript warung mentioned earlier, and went to Anita’s house to eat and chat. Anita’s house was in the middle of vast fields, with only one or two other houses visible surrounding it. Anita had quite the green thumb, and David delighted in an incredibly detailed tour of her tropical garden. Watch out for snakes! (Really, watch out, there are snakes.)

We ate fried noodles, talked a little about current events (November 2016 was still fresh, and even Suriname was feeling its vibrations), and listened to our host family’s stories of Suriname then and now.

Wim told us of riding his bicycle on dirt roads surrounded by palms and sugarcane. Anita told us of losing the family dog as a to a poisonous snakebite. Carmen showed us framed family photos around the house and taught us how to eat mangoes the Surinamese way. Wim dropped us off at our hotel in the early evening, just around golden hour, and it really felt like this cinematic moment at the culmination of the most interesting, immersive travel day we’ve ever had. Jazz hands, all around.

And some waxing poetic…

Differences in culture passively designed to stimulate the virgin traveler lurk around every corner when in a new place. Truth be told, places that captivate us like the Commewijne are everywhere, just around the corner, maybe down the street that’s dirt instead of tarmac, or maybe that neighborhood that doesn’t have much detail about it in Google. Everywhere has history and a reason for existing that’s fascinating in its own right, and more often than not, all it takes is a little imagination to be swept away by a place’s culture, history, and life. We’ve had Commewijnes all around the world – Bishkek, Phnom Penh, Subotica, and Sarajevo come to mind most immediately. There’s no perfect correlation to geography in finding the perfect travel experience – rather, it’s the combination of serendipity, open-mindedness, and curiosity.

So, have you thought about it? Where is your Commewijne?

Logistics: The Sexy Part!

We were incredibly lucky to have met Wim, Carmen and Anita – they drove us around the Commewijne all day, even dropping us back at our hotel after. The trip would be difficult without our own transport, as buses running between Paramaribo to Meerzorg (over the Jules Wijdenbosch bridge) and further afield are rare, and don’t seem to operate on a regular schedule. From downtown Paramaribo, you could take a boat from the shore side of the Central Market (Central Markt) to either Meerzorg or Fort Nieuw Amsterdam. I did not take this route, so cannot vouch for it, but I imagine the fare would be 20SRD (under $3USD) or less.

﻿ Once there, you wouldn’t have many options for getting from place to place. Meerzorg and Fort Nieuw Amsterdam are far from each other on land, hence why having a car was so convenient for us.

There was no expectation of any payment for our informal boat tour. This is the true hospitable spirit of the Surinamese people – collectively, no matter if one’s heritage is Indian, Javanese, African, or Indigenous. The driver of our boat was happy to do a favor for Wim, his new comrade, but didn’t necessary expect remuneration. We gave him 50SRD (about $6.50USD) – the tip was certainly appreciated.

Most tourism in the Commewijne district is focused on visiting the historical plantation buildings upriver a bit from Paramaribo. And while I completely admit to having a shameful love of colonial architecture, plantation porn isn’t something I’m cool with. I hear reports of sketchy caiman farms there too, which isn’t my thing either, so we were happy to explore the Commewijne’s more recent history through stuffing our faces at warungs, and having earnest conversation with friends as intimate with the place as anyone could be.

I’ve said it in other places, but will repeat here. It’s incredibly difficult to get to Suriname. For us, we had to fly from Seattle to Miami, then take Surinam Airways to Paramaribo via Georgetown, Guyana – and no, Surinam Airways is part of no codeshare agreement. We found our tickets RT from Miami for $250USD, but every other time I’ve looked since then, they’ve been monumentally expensive (like, $600 plus). European friends can get there on a direct flight from Amsterdam on KLM, but I’ve heard those are expensive as well. So, lesson here is, save up those awful SkyTeam miles. Blah, travel hacking is fun, promise.

**Did you know that illegal gold mining is a real thing in Suriname? It’s a big issue that I won’t get into here, but there are government ties to it and awful working conditions for the mostly migrant laborers in the region. Not to mention the willful and illegal destruction of primeval forest on the most densely forested country on earth. You can learn more here.