OTHER “TANGLES”

The Little Lost Storm Petrel

Birds getting lost during migration due to overcast skies, turbulent wind conditions, or loss of familiar landmarks is well known to birding folks While we were in the Atlantic Ocean, going from the Amazon to Devil’s Island, we had fairly unstable weather brief rainstorms, very bumpy seas, lots of hide and seek with the sun We couldn’t do much star gazing at night because of the cloudy skies One morning, the birding naturalists invited us to a bird release! During the night a little storm petrel, dark gray feather with the typical “bump” on his beak that seabirds have to remove salt from their systems, about the size of a blue jay, had become disoriented by the night skies and the lights on our ship and had landed there to rest the night. At about 5 a.m., Claudia (a naturalist) found him huddled on deck under a deck chair She picked him up easily since he was still pretty tired and took him to Clive, one of the birders. Clive warmed him up and offered him something to eat and let him rest until 11:00 a.m. in a white paper bag where he was perfectly content. At the appointed hour, we went up on the back deck and watched the little bird resume his peregrinations. After Clive showed off the lovely feathers and the tubenose feature, he held the bird aloft in his open hand. It took the little fellow a few minutes to realize that he was free and then he flew straight off that palmar platform and did a couple of loops around the ship, as if to say “thanks and adios.” Then he took off towards the horizon and was lost to view. Of course, the naturalists had to end our mushy thinking and tell us that the bird was actually getting his bearings when he made the several passes over our upturned faces. He was probably more likely to have pooped on us than acted out his “thanks.” The little bird’s “tangled” directional sense gave us a good show indeed.

“That Tree, That Tree!”

Another funny and yet frustrating tangle we were surprised to discover how difficult it is to point out to others a bird or monkey you have spotted in a tree or shrub as you glide along. Invariably, the good spotter would begin to yell at everyone in the zodiac to look at what he had found He would point excitedly in some direction, shouting, “He’s right there, at 10 o’clock. “ Of course, that did little good to the rest of us, because his 12 o’clock basic orientation spot was not the same as each of ours. So we would began to question him more closely trying to get a bead on the bird. He would gesture wildly in the direction of his sighting and scream again, “It’s in that tree where the two big branches intersect!” That also was no help at all since the entire waterway was lined with nothing but trees, vines, shrubs, and other vegetation. So we all answered in chorus, “What tree, which tree?” By now everyone was frustrated and afraid he/she was going to be the only one aboard not to see the “find.” Even the naturalists themselves were so excited that they too could only dumbly reiterate “that tree, that tree.” Talk about a failure to communicate!

Though we all tried to agree on a method of letting everyone know how to see what someone had spotted using the clock idea (large green parrot at 3 o’clock position), land marking (tallest tree on the horizon), looking over the spotter’s shoulder (so you followed his line of sight) nothing really overcame the tendency of the keyed up spotter to just repeat “That tree, that tree!”

Retrieving Clive’s Glasses

During one of our night zodiac rides, Clive caught a young spectacled caiman and brought him into the boat so we could all touch him and examine him closely. In a handoff to one of the other naturalists, Clive somehow let the temple of his glasses get a little close to the caiman’s mouth and teeth and that little fellow latched on to those glasses with a death grip Though it is easy to keep a crocodilian’s mouth closed because his jaw-opening muscles are relatively weak. We Floridians are familiar with this factoid after watching Seminole Indians wrestle alligators and amaze the tourists by holding that huge mouth closed with just their pointer finger and thumb. However, it is quite the opposite to try to pry that mouth open once it has closed on something! Their bite pressure per square inch is something for the record books A comparison of bite pressures based on research from the University of Florida alligator research specialists lists these known bite pressures: American alligators 2125 lbs, African lion 940 lbs., dusky shark 300 lbs., human being 170 lbs., and a Labrador retriever 125 lb. Even though our glasses “chomper” was a small spectacled caiman (only about 1 ft. long), he had a terrific bite of his own and he wasn’t going to let go of that temple piece

Other Places

Maybe the spectacled caiman just needed some spectacles, you think? Anyway, Clive and Piotr had quite a tussle with the little fellow and he just kept biting down We don’t know what kind of deal they finally made with him, but he finally relaxed his jaws enough so that Clive could whisk the temple piece right out. Then they returned the determined little biter to his black water habitat.

Devil’s Island – French Guiana

Oddly enough, the three small islands that are infamous in world penal history are actually called the Iles du Salut (the healthful islands) because they were relatively free of yellow fever and malaria mosquitoes. The salubrious aspect of the islands, however, is not the reason the French chose them for their overseas penal colony In fact, the bigger half of the prison was on the French Guiana mainland; but it is true that fewer prisoners on the islands died of those diseases than the people incarcerated on the mainland. The seas between the islands and the mainland were shark infested and noted for their treacherous tides and currents. Escape was virtually impossible whereas prisoners who escaped on the mainland at least had a chance to slip through the jungles into Brazil or Dutch Guiana, though that was admittedly a very slim chance.

Started by Emperor Napoleon III, the prison operated from 1852 to l946 and its horrific reputation is rivaled only by the British prisons in Tasmania. Like Great Britain, France needed a place to put its political dissidents, its incorrigibles, and its criminals considered not worth rehabilitation. When people were condemned to Devil’s Island, it was neither expected nor desired that they would ever return Very few survived and those who did generally did not wish to return to France.

Our visit to the small archipelago was conditioned by the landing conditions since we had to approach the islands in our zodiacs. The seas cooperated and we soon found ourselves on St. Joseph’s Island which was the site of the solitary confinement cells as well as the blocks where the most irredeemable prisoners were housed. Across a very narrow strait was the tiny island on which lived Alfred Dreyfuss in solitary confinement in a tiny hut that still can be seen through the palm trees and understory growth As with any place where humans have greatly mistreated their fellow man, there lingers here a “stench of evil” because so much of the punishment was unnecessarily cruel For instance, here on this island of solitary confinement cells, the prisoners were nonetheless shackled to the walls of the tiny rooms. Why was that necessary since there was no escape anyway? Furthermore, the roofs of the cells were removed after a prisoner protest and replaced with iron grates so that the monsoon rains and the broiling sun shone into the cells without any respite Why was that misery inflicted on men and women already in great torment?

The cellblocks are actually still in fairly good repair and it is both hideous and pitiful to see the efforts the prisoner-builders put into the construction of these places, even to adding decorative touches like quoins and seals and carved archways. The jungle is gradually taking reclaiming the site that is being left to Mother Nature’s mercies. There is neither money nor will in France to dedicate treasure or time to the prison’s preservation The tangled tendrils of vines climbing over the tawny stucco walls, encircling the doorways, and reaching through the windows echo the tangled French justice system and penal philosophy that allowed this horrible place to exist in the first place.

It is very difficult to walk among these ghostly buildings without imagining all the individual horrors that were endured within them. It was actually a relief to walk back down off the hill down through the barracks and command block where the French Foreign Legion lives and administers the “park” today. One can only wonder what these few Legionnaires have done to deserve posting to this terrible place.

We also learned from our local guide that the mainland schools bring students on field trips all through the year. What do these young people bring away from their experiences on the islands? One can only hope that the terrible lesson on “man’s inhumanity to man” is brought home to them.

After we left St. Joseph’s, we were taken by zodiac to Ile Royale where the governor of the prison and the officers lived. Care has been taken to preserve this lovely spot where the horrors were authorized if not experienced So contradictory: a school for the children of the officers, a lovely chapel with murals painted by the prisoners, a huge reservoir for water collection, a graceful mansion at the highest point of the island so the governor could be sure to enjoy the trade winds which brought relief from the unremitting heat.

We next visited the island’s cemetery; the resting place of 220 guards, doctors and nuns who worked at the prison in the 19th century.

We walked the broad causeway, built of individual stones by the prisoners, that served to carry the governor in his horse-drawn carriage up the hill to his personal “castle” in the clouds. All this comfort and ease and beauty are so incongruous with Ile St. Joseph and its suffering prisoners.

In contrast to all this memory of misery, we had some lighter moments as well The catalyst for the happiness was the chance to see Capuchin and Squirrel monkeys at their antics very close to where we stood on the ring road around the island So close in fact that many of the monkeys would leap onto heads and shoulders of people brave enough to offer these wild creatures a bite to eat.

The Capuchins have very serious faces; they looked troubled and grave, sometimes even wicked. But the Squirrel monkeys have sweet faces that look innocent and childlike. Both were very playful and tolerant of each other though they were occupying the same bushes and trees There was much leaping about the branches, harassing of younger brothers and sisters, cuffing by adults finally annoyed by the playful youngsters However, both species seemed to feel that the agoutis on the ground beneath were fair game for teasing The small, reddish brown, slightly hunch-backed critters with receding chins seem to have been destined to be the butt of primate humor. Agoutis are in the rodent family and their closest kin is the guinea pig The animals are strict vegetarians so they are no threat to the monkeys or their young. However, the youngsters seem to enjoy throwing fruits at the harmless agoutis, jumping at them from the trees, pulling at their fur if they can get close enough.

Paramaribo - Suriname

Paramaribo is the capital city of Suriname and a recently designated UNESCO World Heritage Site as well. The mixture of architectural styles in the old city is the reason for that designation. The city looks like a strange amalgam of Northern European combined with tropical America

The wooden residences curiously recall Charleston style homes, but they are painted in a traditional Dutch style white with very dark green trim (so dark it’s almost black). Freakily, some of the structures look like transplants from the American Federal Period with fronts supported by slender white columns. Typical Dutch residences from earlier periods are wooden but always built on brick foundations that reach up about 3 feet before the wood construction begins. The few official buildings look rather like heavy Dutch earthsquatting edifices

There is an impressive brick fort in the middle of the city on the riverfront: Fort Zealandia, dating from the 1600s It is now a museum and sits next to the national art school. It was never a useful fort because the Suriname River is so wide where it sits that the cannons were not effective Now the museum and art school work together so the old place has a new function. We saw several art students sitting with their pencils and paints, sketching the fort and supporting buildings. The young ladies we spoke to were hoping for careers in commercial art We wonder how realistic that dream is for them in Suriname.

On a greensward between the old fort and the river stands a large statue of Netherlands Queen Wilhelmina. She is clearly not much admired in her former colony, however; the English word “shit” has been painted on the statue’s base and no one has taken the trouble to clean it off. Clearly emphasizing the dislike, there is no graffiti anywhere else that we saw in the city!

There is an attractive Palm Garden near Independence Square where sit the Presidential Palace and the government administrative buildings. We were assured that though the garden was fairly empty as we toured that it is a very lively place on weekends when it sprouts kiosks selling snacks and little toys for children, competing bands, lights, dancing couples, happy families.

One interesting sidelight we encountered in Paramaribo was the sideby-side Muslim Mosque and Jewish Synagogue.

Apparently, there is no animosity between the two religious groups here; a tolerance that could only be wished on the rest of the world. The Synagogue was particularly interesting in that it had a sand floor throughout to commemorate the flight from Egypt. The Mosque was different in that when Muslims moved to South America they had no idea how to orient themselves towards Mecca, so they just used the direction they had learned in their birth countries whether or not it was appropriate in Paramaribo Therefore, folks position their prayer rugs according to their countries of origin, even in the Mosque itself. Perhaps our guide was quite correct in her pronouncement, “Suriname’s population is a mixture of many cultures, races and religions and our democracy reflects that in our many political parties which must work together to form governments since none of them can gain a majority. We are a happy people who like it this way!”

Other houses of worship speak to the validity of our guide’s declarations.

Curiapo - Venezuela

This “stilt city” is a very different town from Paramaribo and in a different country as well Venezuela. Curiapo is much smaller and appears much more “temporary.” It has no colonial history and no substantial buildings at all. The population is Amerindian almost completely rather than the rich mélange of peoples in Suriname Built entirely on pilings to accommodate the huge river tides, the rudimentary houses were connected by concrete or wooden boardwalk type “streets” also supported by pilings A very curious place is Curiapo.

The river was very bouncy as we approached the city and even with the very shallow draw of zodiacs we had to follow the channel marked with wands of bamboo to avoid running aground Sultry, stifling, sweltering, scorching, sizzling: all very apt words to describe the climate we were entering onshore.

The town’s front streets project out over the river waters and the back streets have been gouged out of the jungle lining the river. There is no shade in the town other than that beneath the thatched or tin roofs of the dwellings. Some of these are very basic and others show the attention of their builders to more detail with painted wood and designs added to the walls. There is most definitely a high rent and a low rent district too. The “richer” folks used more subdued colors or the natural look of a handsome wood type The “poorer” citizens went for very loud colors vivid pinks, bright yellow, lime green, sky blue, and combinations of colors like orange and purple The more prosperous looking houses were much more substantially constructed while the poorer neighborhood was filled with dilapidated structures with missing wood, broken slats, precarious slants. All these houses had walls with windows.

The people live very much on top of each other with closely spaced homes, so there are usually curtains of some type at the windows and doors: sometimes made of lace, sometimes of cotton cloth, sometimes of woven bark, sometimes of feed sacking, sometimes even of wood.

As seems to be usual in Amazonia, the houses contain very little furnishings, except for hammocks. However, we did see color TVs in many houses and there were two Direct TV dishes in the town How on earth is money collected from those who connect to the service? Generators also ran radios that seemed to be playing loudly from every home where anyone was at home there must be several stations these folks can pick up because no two houses seemed to be playing the same station.

As we strolled the hot streets, we found the women and children to be very shy and unwilling to make much contact The men were reserved but not hostile. They didn’t seem to resent our being there, but they did not try to communicate at all, not even pointing out their wares for sale. Occasionally, we would see a vacant “lot” and had to wonder what had happened to that house Dogs freely roamed the elevated streets as well and would leap from them onto to the few spots of solid ground contained in the town limits Clothing was western style and modest but as brief as possible.

We were dismayed to see that the outhouses obviously emptied into the river below and we could see that the people were fishing there, bathing there, and fetching their water from these waters Perhaps the big tides were enough to clean out the wastes regularly so that the people were not constantly sick.

Big rivers in mountainous areas often have wonderful falls that are awe-inspiring, jaw dropping, and always beautiful! Guyana’s Kaieteur Falls and Venezuela’s Angel Falls certainly qualify on all grounds. Both are protected in a national park setting but Kaieteur can be reached after a short plane ride lands you on the plateau where there are walks to the falls. Most folks see Angel Falls only in a flyby flight because the land around the canyon is wild and treacherous and there are no easy hikes into the area It would take a full-scale hiking expedition to reach them. Weather permitting, trips to Kaieteur are almost successful since if the plane can get you there, the walks are not difficult at all Angel Falls depends on the local weather conditions at the falls and its canyon and it is always up to the pilot of the small plane to determine if he thinks that flying down into the Canyon is safe That means “you pays your money and you takes your chances” when booking an excursion to Angel Falls. However, because of the proximity of Canaima National Park, it’s worth the gamble!

Kaieteur Falls & Kaieteur National Park

While Guyana was still a British colony, the park was established in 1929 and has remained protected ever since, even though its acreage has shrunk (to accommodate mining) and then re-expanded to its original 72,000+ square hectares in the 1990s The area is part of the ongoing “tangly tussle” between Venezuela and Guyana as each claims the land. The park and its surrounding environs sit atop the Guiana Shield, some of earth’s oldest exposed sandstone Besides the wonderful Kaieteur Falls, one of the highest single drop waterfalls in the world (741 ft.), the park also protects many hectares of the strange tabletop mountains (called Tepuis) that make this land inhospitable for exploration, farming, development, mining or most other human activities. The Potaro River, 400 ft. wide at its drop-off, creates the falls as it rushes to join the much large Essequibo River. The Falls are 5 times higher than the much more familiar Niagara Falls! The water is a rusty red and quite tumultuous as it approaches the drop-off. There are several different walks at varying levels so that the visitor can view the cascade from below and then from the plateau right next to the drop zone. The frothy plunge pool is wild and beautiful A very satisfying view indeed!

The Park also harbors much-endangered flora and fauna, most notable among them the tiny golden frog and the huge 12 ft. high tank bromeliads, as well as ocelots, tapir, poison dart frogs and birds. We were lucky to see the tiny golden frog that lives its entire life in the pools formed by the leaves of the tank bromeliad. However, our own plane load of folks did not see the much sought after “life-list bird” the Cock of the Rock, a vivid orange fellow who performs a special courting dance while he displays his impressive feathers to likely mates. A couple of the groups did see this bird but he was not displaying at that time.

Angel Falls & Canaima National Park

This spectacular waterfall was “discovered” by the American pilot, Jimmie Angel, in 1935 when he was forced to crash land his light plane on top of a nearby tepuis. Of course, the falls was already well known to the Amerindians who lived here for centuries. However, the world now knows the fall by its eponymous English language name It is the highest falls in the world at 2,421 ft. of magnificent free fall from the tepuis over which it spills That drop makes it 15 times higher than Niagara! Most of us on the Clipper Adventurer opted to pay the extra money for the flight to Canaima National Park and the flyby of Angel Falls Six small planes were required to ferry all of us from Porto Ordaz to Canaima. We had been told that if conditions were favorable we would fly to Devil’s Canyon on the way to the Park but if they weren’t at that time, we would get another chance on the flight back to Porto Ordaz.

The planes landed at Canaima’s airstrip one after another and it was clear that none of them had chanced a flyby. The beautiful lodge in the park was very enjoyable however and we all remained optimistic There were resident military and blue and gold macaws on the property and they were amusing and entertaining in their squabbling with one another and begging food from us. Monkeys were also present in the park and other kinds of birds Kay & I decided to take a strenuous nature walk with one of the local guides and enjoyed it immensely since we saw some amazing savanna terrain with palm trees dotted all around the landscape and walked atop some of that really old sandstone exposed as part of the Guiana Shield. The best part of the nature walk, however, was the chance to walk behind two different waterfalls Of course, these were much shorter than Angel Falls or Kaieteur, but they were in full spate and were so beautiful! It was especially terrific to be behind the falling water curtain looking out over the lake into which the water fell Really exciting and quite cooling after a hot hike too.

Angel “Tangles” ensued shortly after we enjoyed a delicious lunch at the lodge and then headed for the planes for the return trip to the ship! Our plane, holding about 22 people, was the 2nd to take off and we were still very optimistic We flew along in a cloudless sky for quite a while until it began to dawn on us that we were approaching the airport. No announcement had been made to us about conditions at Angel Falls, no regretful apologies, nothing at all We thought that it would have been much better had the pilot explained he wasn’t going to be able to go into the Canyon due to “whatever.” So we grumbled a bit, but were fairly accepting of the fact that we were just not lucky enough that day to see the falls.

However, as soon as other planes began to arrive at the airport, we heard that all the other planes (except ours and the one which had taken off first) had gotten the flyby and their digital cameras revealed that conditions at the Canyon had been perfect and their pictures were dazzling! Now we were hopping mad and so were all the passengers on our plane and the other unlucky one We grumbled and fumed and listened to the mounting anger all around us, until suddenly the whole thing became humorous to us as we wondered how the folks in charge were going to handle a full-scale riot when we all reboarded the ship. Some folks were getting “over the top” in their disappointment and lack of understanding about the situation We wondered what was going to have to happen to “defuse” these ticking time bombs. Talk about a tangle of misunderstanding! This might have been the knottiest tangle we had personally faced on the entire trip.

We returned to the ship about 4:30 p.m., still hearing some muttering by fellow passengers as they went to their cabins to get ready for cocktail hour We figured the fireworks would begin then, but something intervened. A Venezuelan band was aboard and entertained during cocktail hour with typical folk music of the area, songs and instrumentals. Then the nightly “briefing” about tomorrow’s plans came next and we were sure the bottled anger would begin to boil over, but something else happened to damp down the fires. Our Assistant Expedition Leader (wife of Ignacio, the EL himself) announced that she was leaving the trip early because a German ship in Belem had lost its EL at the last minute and asked Claudia if she would come back and take the position It was an emotional (surprisingly so) goodbye she gave us and no one could stem that tide of good but sad feelings So then it was dinnertime and everyone stampeded to the dining room. Big heads of steam had built up, legitimate complaints were filed in folks’ catalogue of grievances, festering disappointment continued to roil and yet nothing at all had been said aloud by anyone! How anticlimactic!

The management lesson we took away from this experience was probably not a particularly helpful one. Most of the time, when there is a problem that affects morale and performance, it is best to confront the situation and deal directly with the people’s discontents. In this case, it had just been ignored. At the next night’s “Briefing” and following our fascinating visit to the “city on stilts,” the sore subject was broached by one of the owners of Zegrahm Expeditions, Peter Harrison. He acknowledged the bitter disappointment the passengers on planes 1 and 2 were still experiencing after having failed to see Angel Falls As it happened, he was aboard the first plane himself He tried to make us understand that conditions at Devil’s Canyon change moment by moment and that the decision to fly in is a split second one that only the pilot of each airplane can make.

He stressed, of course, that safety is always is the first consideration and that all of us must put our trust in the experience and training of our individual pilots! Just by recognizing our frustration, Peter began the pacification process By never stating directly that part of our unhappiness was also probably “envy” because others had gotten the coveted view, he eased us into resignation and soon had us laughing with him about the foibles of travel. Maybe he had been right after all; let the folks stew a little and cool down a bit before the topic is raised for open discussion. As it happened, no one said any of the ugly things they had been planning: no one demanded any of the considerations they had been voicing as their due, like a partial refund or some such; no one actually said anything at all Instead, there were just rueful smiles all around and everyone went on with the rest of trip in good spirits. A good lesson in management?

Porto Ordaz & Caroni Falls

The Caroni River runs through the port city of Porto Ordaz and creates a marvelous sight on its passage through tumbling rocks, high benches, rock shelves, stone walls, and wonderful rapids.

Though not tall, the falls are immensely wide at least a city block long at the site of the city park there.

The water is black with tannins from plants all along its course and that color contrasts brightly with the foamy rapids and standing waves as the river thrashes its way along towards the Orinoco.

These falls did not possess any of the superlatives of the two more famous ones we expected to see, but they were actually more fun to view than the other two The water was so close to you, there were birds feeding near the plunge pools, the stretch of the falls was so impressive, and the laughing, gurgling, crashing waters were so loud they blocked out the people chattering and the music blaring These falls were quite photogenic as well and made up quite a bit for our letdown at not seeing Angel Falls.

People Of Amazonia

All along the rivers we sailed, we looked at the people living on the riversides Most were Amerindians and lived very similarly to one another regardless of which political borders obtained there. It didn’t matter if the villagers were in Guyana or Venezuela, Brazil or Suriname Some people we interacted with stand out, though, and deserve special mention. The boardwalks that connected the houses have been described, as well as the rather basic structures the people used for sheltering homes However, the little touches that make a place different or special have not been pointed out yet. So this is the time for that aspect of our observations to be described.

Amerindians

At the first riverside village we visited (where the lady took our picture with her cellphone), we saw a pretty little garden built in an old canoe upraised along the boardwalk. The gardener was growing green onions, cilantro, and some other herbs in the hollow of the broken boat. It was thriving and would definitely add to some of the meals she would be preparing in the future. Later we would see that this is a common practice with the ladies of the rivers. Most homes had either flower or veggie gardens in old canoes an Amazonian style of “raised garden.”

At another village, there was a working sawmill under a shelter right next to a couple of houses. We were asked ashore to see the working sawmill but we shuddered the whole time we were there because the huge blade was completely unguarded and young boys were helping an older man feed the logs through. One young fellow had obviously lost his left arm to the mill and all of the kids seemed too young to be working around such hazardous equipment But the broomsticks the family produces from these logs were clearly their livelihood. We walked through the deep sawdust covering the muddy ground and then over to the family home, invited to do so by the lady of the house.

Her whole “yard” was the sawdust and she had planted many shrubs and flowering trees there to beautify her home. She was rightly very proud of her efforts and was so pleased that we had gotten out of the zodiacs and come for a visit.

A couple of other ladies were there as well and we all tried to communicate with one another about the loveliness of her home. Smiles and gestures evidently conveyed our pleasure because her face was aglow as we strolled through her property. This family and their neighbors were Amerindians too.

On a Sunday morning, we passed on our zodiacs between two villages on opposites of the stream Both villages were full of Amerindian people dressed in proper churchgoing clothes, heading to Protestant churches for services. The men had on white shirts and ties and the ladies were dressed in colorful western skirts and white blouses. The little boys and girls were also in their Sunday best.

The people in the village on the left hand side were getting into small boats to get to their church. Some folks must have been running a bit late, since we saw one mother hastily bathing a baby in the river even though she was dressed for church

Maybe baby had a last minute “accident” and needed to be cleaned up, because father was impatiently looking at mother from the boat. Baby, however, was thoroughly enjoying the bath experience; he was laughing and splashing and it was pretty clear that mother was going to have to dry out in the boat on the way to church.

In the other village, the folks were a little more formally dressed the men had suit jackets on as well and the ladies were wearing hats. The little girls were in white fluffy dresses and shoes and socks and the little boys imitated their dads.

The men carried Bibles and guitars as they all paraded along the boardwalk to attend their church. The villagers smiled and waved at us and were clearly happy on this fine Sunday.

A Misplaced English Girl

Our guide at Devil’s Island deserves special mention as well She was a fair, frecklecheeked, redhead with a very slight build. Quite different looking from the other folks assembled on the dock to meet our zodiacs Most of the other people were black French speakers. She spoke excellent English, as of course she should have since she was English by nationality. She teaches school on the French Guiana mainland and has done so for about 10 years. Her French was also fluent and she said she was married to a Frenchman currently working at the Space Station.

She reported that her problems teaching kids 12 & 13 are just like the ones our teachers complain about Too much interest in popular music (hip hop), too little attention to studies, very little self-discipline, parents too busy or too stressed to care. She and her husband are applying for work in France and hoping to leave French Guiana before the next school term. She is the one who told us about the “field trips” she led to Devil’s Island several times per year. She said the children enjoyed the outings and were not particularly disturbed by the history around them They just loved being out of school for the day with a picnic in the offing on one of the beaches.