"La Condamine's voyage"

After Iran: Visit to New York and Vermont - May 7-23, 2011

2011-05-23T09:20:00.000-07:00

Driving through the "green" states of New York and Vermont, the deserts and towns of Iran seem far away. However, the discussions, comments and newspapers here kept reminding me of my Iranian experience.

Travels through Iran: from Teheran to Zanjan and back by car; from Teheran to Shiraz and Isfahan by plane and from Isfahan to Teheran again by car. Shatt al-Arab, the region disputed between Iraq and Iran.

The most prominent differences between the city of Teheran (9 million) and the city of New York (8 millon) are, first, the huge and overwhelming advertisements on the New York skyscrapers and, second, the heterogeneity of the people in the New York streets. This heterogeneity and the fact that all those different people can speak freely about politics represents the real force of the "Imperialistic West" for which al Quaeda must be afraid and against which bin Laden has been trying to install hatred.

After the modest billboards in Teheran, the advertisements in New York were overwhelming.

The threat of al Quaeda has brought more police and security officers to the streets of New York than I ever saw in Teheran, Shiraz or Isfahan. Reading about bin Laden's death in the New York newspapers, the eruptions of hate among young moslims remind me of the words of Hans Keilson, who was rediscovered here by Francine Prose (New York Times, Sunday Book Review; August 5, 2010):

"B (i.e. Hitler) needed the Jews to project onto them what he dislikes in himself." Is it comparable? Will the hatred towards the West inspired by al Quaeda lead to the self-destruction of bin Laden's dream of creating a Sunnitic Caliphate?

Wall St., NY: the diversity of freely walking and talking people seems to me the real power of the West.

Ground Zero represented to me another aspect of power and strength: an impressing activity of rebuilding 4 new towers next to the two sites of the remnants of the Twin Towers that will stay as a monument. In his Mideast Speech of May 19, 2011, Obama reminded us that al Quaeda is losing "its struggle for relevance" and that "the people of the Middle East and North Africa had taken their future into their own hands."

Building activities at Ground Zero, May 2011

He also mentions Iran: "So far, Syria has followed its Iranian ally, seeking assistance from Tehran in the tactics of suppression. And this speaks to the hypocrisy of the Iranian regime, which says it stand for the rights of protesters abroad, yet represses its own people at home." ....and..... "The image of a young woman dying in the streets is still seared in our memory. And we will continue to insist that the Iranian people deserve their universal rights, and a government that does not smother their aspirations."

I was also reminded by an Israeli friend how the US did not side Iran when Iraq attacked Iran in a dispute over the Shatt el-Arab region (the confluence of the Euphrat and the Tigris) starting the war from 1980 to 1988.

In his comment (May 23, 2011) he reminded me how Iran blew up in Buenos Aires first the Israeli Embassy on March 17, 1992 (killing 29 and wounding over 250 people) and then the Jewish Community Center on June 18, 1994 (killing 87 and wounding over 100 people). All this happened well before the arrival of the present holocaust-denier Ahmadinejad!

So, have I been naive regarding Iran? Perhaps , but in his comment on the death of bin Laden ("Bad Bargains"; May 11, 2011), Thomas Friedman (The New York Times) concludes that the main threat of Taliban and al Quaeda lies in Saudi Arabia and Pakistan. It wouldn't surprise me if in the coming years the relation between Iran and Israel-USA would relax.

Impressions of my visit to Iran: 29 April to 5 May

2011-05-12T04:38:00.000-07:00

"My guide" and sister in the beautiful garden of the Golestan Palace in Teheran.

I could not testify.....that this country is governed by a "terror regime" as written in our newspapers. During my short stay, I always had the feeling that I could walk freely around. The security at the airports was as relaxed as in, for instance, Brazil. The people I met on the street were very kind, also to my female guide. They laugh, but seem a little shy; in the basars they did not "attack" a sightseer like me; they resembled the people I met in Israel, but did not display their self-assurance; they could wait patiently, except in the traffic. If these people are suppressed, they in any case do not discharge their anger in loud music in restaurants and cars like the Brazilians do and we, perhaps, too. At the university and in the streets, we talked freely about our interests, about religious habits, western movies or Persian culture, but ... nót about politics.

My guide, checking slides before her presentation for the thesis defense session at the Institute in Zanjan

Smoking a waterpipe after dinner at the old Bathhouse-restaurant in the basar of Zanjan. Difficult exercise for my knees....

I did not know that....10000 Rials is 1$ and that the Iranian banknotes show us a story of development from Islamic fundamentalism to Iranian nationalism. The old 2000 bill still shows the Grand Mosque in Mecca. The newer 20000 bill shows the beautiful Imam Square in Esfahan, where cheerful and hilarious schoolgirls asked me: "From where do you come, Sir?", "How do you like the country?" and "Are you an Imam?". On the last 50000 bill the map of Iran shows the Persian Gulf and the symbol of an atom emphasizing the importance of science with the saying: "If knowledge will be in the sky (in the Pleiades) Persians cértainly will catch it". But how can this be reconciled with Islamic teaching (4-5 h a week in primary school) where children are taught biology without reference to evolution? They still learn how to consider the wonders of nature as La Condamine did in the 18th century: all is created by God to be enjoyed and admired by us, Humans.

Surrounded by cheerful schoolgirls, wearing an easy-to-wear "maghnaéh" instead of a headscarf, on the large Imam Square in Esfahan.

Rial-banknotes showing a development from Islamic fundamentalism to Iranian nationalism.

I did not know that.... Iran has about 77 million inhabitants of which more than 3 million are university students. About half of them is female. After the revolution in 1979 the governement (i.e. Khomeini) stimulated women to go to school and university, but forced them also to wear the chador (loose-fitting coat) and the headscarf.

In this Islamic country I had expected to hear every 5 hours the loudspeakers on mosques or minarets, just like in Indonesia. Fact is that I only heard them once (at 4:50 am) in Teheran and sometimes, shortly, in the airports. This then is one of the superficial differences between Shi'a and Sunni.

Teheran: everywhere in the streets images of Ayatollah Khomeini (left) and his successor, the Supreme Leader Khamenei (right). They command you "to behave decently" and in return they offer you "peace of mind".

A more profound difference is the use of "prayer stones": small tablets of clay that were often decorated with some simple inscriptions or figures, on which the forehead is placed when stretching to earth during prayer. Sunni's do not use that!

I did not know that.... the Iranians disike Arabs and do not want to speak arabic. After the Islamic conquest (in ~650) the rulers tried to introduce arabic. But thanks to poets like Ferdowsi (a large statue in Teheran honors him), the Persians kept their language. Another famous poet (1195–1226) is remembered on the 100000 Rials banknote: Saadi.

بنى آدم اعضای يك پیکرند

که در آفرينش ز یک گوهرند

چو عضوى به درد آورد روزگار

دگر عضوها را نماند قرار

تو کز محنت دیگران بی غمی

نشاید که نامت نهند آدمی

The poem of Saadi on the 100000 banknote is translated by M. Aryanpoor as:

Human being are members of a whole,

In creation of one essence and soul.

If one member is afflicted with pain,

Other members uneasy will remain.

If you've no sympathy for human pain,

The name of human you cannot retain!

I did not know that....there is more democracy in Iranian governement than Salman Rushdie suggested in an interview when he compared the Iranian Ayatollah's with Nazi-dictators. But the way Imam's get their power is complicated and based on a long tradition in a country that has been ruled by kings for millenia until 1979.

I uderstood from my student-guide that clerics of the Shi'a ("followers of Ali" - the cousin of Mohamed) earn their money and power because, as commanded in religious texts, the people háve to give money to the poor. As this can be a difficult task Imam's come to help and you can now give your money to an Imam that you trust. (Don't we do something similar when a tsunami has occurred and television programs allow us to give our money to get "peace of mind"?).

The Imam has to write theses about new religious subjects (e.g. how should an astronaut pray in space?); he usually has a website and an office. If an Imam gets a lot of money, i.e. when many people trust him, and if he can convince other Imam's that his theses are correct, he can become an Ayatollah and as such a member of the Assembly of Experts: 86 clerics that choose the Supreme Leader. At this moment Rafsanjani is head of the Assembly and the Supreme Leader is Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.

But this story is much more complicated and requires additional reading. Also, I think you have to be a catholic to understand all these beliefs and devotions, not a protestant who thinks he is "non-believing".

The Jameh Moesque of Isfahan from 771 and rebuilt in the 11th century, decorated with glazed tilework (insert).

Prayer stones used by Shi'a.

In 1971... the 2500th anniversary of the Persian Empire was celebrated by the Shah. I still remember that the concert was broadcasted on dutch television or radio. The expensive and extravagant feast, of which we still saw remnants of deliberately neglected tribunes, paved the way for the return of Ayatollah Khomeini in 1979.

Persepolis

I do not know... whether I have seen the poor people in Iran where 45% of the urban population lives "under the poverty line". What I did see was that, compared to Teheran and Zanjan, the towns of Shiraz and Esfahan looked rather rich and remarkably clean! Not like the poverty and filth of South-American cities.

In the bazar of Shiraz a carpet is cleaned by scraping it with a long knife (not visible).

What I did understand is how the war against Iraq (1980-1988) traumatized the entire country. My guide (as a girl of about 8) still remembered seeing the photographs of the war when her father took her to the airport in Shiraz. At this moment it was this town that commemorated for one month the many casualties of the war: throughout town huge posters with photographs had been placed.

Poster in Shiraz to commemorate the war against Iraq (1980-1988)

Breakfast with my guide in the magnificent Hotel Abbasi*****

When passing Natanz on our way from Esfahan to Teheran I saw on the electric wires along the well-maintained 6-lane highway, the beautiful Roller ("Scharrelaar"; Coracias garrulus). Not many other birds except for some swallows and huge Hooded Crows ("Bonte Kraaien").

Passing Natanz we saw the Roller or "Scharrelaar";

picture from: http://www.dutchbirding.nl/news.php?id=274

The death of Osama bin Laden appeared in the Iran News on May 3rd. On May 2nd a taxi driver still told us that it could all be a lie. But travellers at the airport had already heard the news via illegal satellite disks...

Did I see signs of the former opposition? No, but I heard about reformists and the "Green movement" and I got the impression that people were awaiting the outcome of the power struggle between the President and the Supreme Leader. They felt that they were "further" than the Sunni-Arabs revolting in the North-African countries and Syria.

On many balconies in town curtains hide the satellite disks giving access to western TV-programs.

The traffic in Teheran is amazing. It is as if nobody will allow the other car to pass while, without much hassle, a car gets through smoothly whether coming from the right or the left. But my female driver warned me: when they see that you wear a headscarf you have to push harder and be more persevering. If we would drive like this in the Netherlands, with a distance of 20 to 200 cm between the cars depending on velocity, there would be less traffic jams. As there are no traffic lights for pedestrians and zebra crossings seem not to be recognized, I was glad not to have to cross a busy street.

My "female driver" in Teheran traffic, more resolute and faster than most taxi drivers!

Journey to Iran: preparations

2011-05-10T09:02:00.000-07:00

Alea jacta est. On January 16, while traveling through the US, I received an invitation from the Institute for Advanced Studies in Basic Science in Zanjan, Iran, to participate in the thesis defense session of a former student.

Going to Iran? Some people advised me not to go to that "vicious country"; others said that it would be an interesting experience... But in that time, the Iranian-Dutch woman Zahra Bahrani (45), was sentenced to death; she was hanged in Tehran on January 29, while we were enjoying a trip to the Monterey Aquarium (see previous Blog). The Dutch governement froze all official contacts with Iran’s “barbaric regime”. Should I go?

In what country was I travelling? Since April 2008, the US carried out 1,099 executions; 3,283 inmates (half of them white) are “on death row” and almost 70% of the people are in favour of the death penalty, although alternative sentences are getting more in favor...

After reading that, I decided to accept the invitation.

With this picture of the late Iranian-dutch Zahra Bahrami, I want to commemorate the more than three thousand people on death row in the US and the people executed in Iran on the occasion of their new year (86 according to Amnesty International).

Visa. When calling the Iranian Enbassy in The Hague I thought the voice was talking a familiar language: hebrew! Later, in the office where women have to wear headscarfs, I heard the greeting "Sálom", resembling the Israeli "Shalóm" (and not the Arabic "Salam").

From where does the Iranian hatred against Israel come? I know that some European historians and Arab leaders and movements (eg. Hamas) deny the Holocaust. But how can a president of a large country as Iran join them? Is it just a helpless act of bullying Israel?

I have many more questions about Iran:

From where does the strong devotion to God come? I know it is not a secular state like ours, where politics and religion are separated, and where we still maintain a "Queen, by the grace of God"....

Why, after chasing the Shah in 1979, did most people accept from Ayatollah Khomeini that there would be an Islamic Republic based on the rules of "one God"? An acceptation that may again occur after the present revolts in the Arabic countries. There were many dissidents that left Iran or were imprisoned after 1979: Will I still be able to see signs of this former opposition? Will I meet people that regret to have accepted the political involvement of the Ayatollah's?

We will see.

Journey to Florida, Texas and California

2011-02-08T08:42:00.000-08:00

From where in the world did the fear come for anthropogenic production of greenhouse gases and climate change?

Certainly not, it seems, from the regions through which we have been travelling: Florida (Vero Beach, January 16 to 23), Texas (Austin, January 23-26) and California (Palo Alto and Granite Bay, January 26 to February 8). Nowhere one can observe any restriction in driving cars (although smaller cars can be observed, even Smarts!), eating large amounts of meat or consuming clean water. California is the world's 19th largest polluter, but this is perhaps not too bad when considering that it is also the world's leading agricultural and food-production region.

Super Bowl football in Arlington, Texas: a Pittsburg "Steeler" dives on a Green Bay "Packer".

But who can be afraid here? Has not everybody become immune to threats, "super-force" and violence? Watching the Super Bowl XLV ("Steelers" against "Packers; February 6th) on TV one becomes overwhelmed by the velocity and ferocity of the advertisements between the shots of the game.

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Florida, Vero Beach: Our host, A.Z. brought us to luxurious West Palm Beach where we visited the Norton Museum of Art. On the way back we passed MacArthur Beach State Park and saw Roseate Spoonbills "between" the skyscrapers. Apart from such nature parks the whole east coast of Florida seems one huge parkland built up with houses or castles and gardens. The parkings at the malls, however, looked rather empty in this high season.....

Lidie and A.Z. in MacArthur State Beach Park on Floridas east coast.

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Texas, Austin: With our host Jim W. we visited the places where we had stayed in 1982/3. During my seminar at UT, I tried to explain that DNA regions within the bacterial nucleoid cannot move fast or "jump" (see "Jumping Frog" below.).

Following a long discussion, James W. drew our attention to the famous Eisenhower farewell address on January 17, 1961. In this speech Eisenhower is speaking truthfully about the military industrial complex that seems to drive America to war again and again in the name of security. We have to watch this movie fully later at home, but for now I wonder whether Iranians and Arabs that see this movie would be confirmed in their fear and hatred against the US.

Rudy's Country Store and Bar-B-Q in Austin, Texas: incredible good meat, relatively cheap and in huge amounts.

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California, Palo Alto: When driving from the airport at San Jose to Palo Alto, I saw a huge construction that seemed to be very modern and I wondered whether it represented a NASA station. Our host, L.B. told us, however, that it was an hangar built in 1933 to contain an airship larger than the Graf Zeppelin. The colonel brought us to Moffet Federal Airfield where we visited the museum.

Lidie and LB in front of Hangar One at Moffet airport.

Insert: In the museum I found for the first time a picture (silhouette) of a Japanese Navy-O, the plane that shot the Jeep in which my father was sitting (Tjilatjap, Java; March 5, 1942).

California, Granite Bay: Bob W., principal engineer at Fugro West Inc. in Sacramento CA, warns that dutchmen have to be modest here. Around Sacramento exist areas 6 m below sea level protected by levees (dikes), in a water system larger and more complex than in Holland! Responsible for the safety of the levees here is the US Army Corps of Engineers (compare with the dutch Rijkswaterstaat). According to BW the inefficiency of this large administrative and executive organization that also has to deal with the environmentalists is unbelievable.

From a presentation on the comparison of Dutch and American levee safety approaches.

Bo and Els W. brought us to Calaveras County where Mark Twain wrote his humorous story of the Jumping Frog:

"'Maybe you don't,' Smiley says. 'Maybe you understand frogs and maybe you don't understand 'em; maybe you've had experience, and maybe you ain't only a amature, as it were. Anyways, I've got my opinion, and I'll resk forty dolars that he can out jump any frog in Calaveras Country.' It was R. D'Ari who suggested to me the connection with "jumping spots": fast moving, fluorescent DNA regions in bacterial cells, which in my view cannot exist....

Visit to Israel-4

2010-11-09T23:55:00.000-08:00

"Elijah’s melons" and some history

La Condamine wrote in his report “Observationson mathematiques et physiques faites dans un voyage de Levant en 1731” about his visit to Jerusalem (see Blog post Oct. 31): “Des pierres, de la grosseur & de la figure d’un pois, que j’ai ramassées dans un champ voisin de Jerusalem, ou elles sont fort communes, quoique’elles soient depuis long-temps recherchées par les Voyageurs.“.

When I told this to Hazorea’s archeologist Dr. Dror Ben-Yosef, he immediately said that these must have been “Elijah’s melons” or “lapides Judaici”. It is the name applied to stones of light brown flint outside, hollow inside, and lined with quartz crystals or chalcedony, the geological "geodes".

See the web site for the myth about Elijah and his melons.

Apparently, at his time La Condamine did not hear much about the origin of these stones. The first voyage account of the nature of Elijah’s melons I found is from 1849 when Maxime du Camp travelled to the Red Sea.

The grapefruit-sized “Melon of Elijah” (geode) shown to me by Dror Ben-Yosef of kibbutz Hazorea. Were these the stones found by La Condamine?

Laatste dag in de kibbutz, half 6: tegelijk met de melodieuze kreten van de Bulbul, klinken in de verte de vier achtereenvolgende schoten, die in de visvijvers de vogels moeten verjagen.

In de afgelopen week van de viering van Channoch’s 70ste verjaardag, hebben we verschillende plaatsen bezocht. Allereerst Nazareth, waar we in de overdekte markt (sukh) de smid Naddaf Fouad (70 jr) terugvonden. Net als vorig jaar kocht ik weer een paar van de door hem gesoldeerde blikjes en olielampjes. Hij vertelde dat het niet goed ging en dat veel winkeltjes gesloten waren vanwege de economische crisis. Hij had echter een oude vriend op bezoek, ook een Christen-arabier, zodat ik hem niet veel kon vragen. Ik beloofde hem volgende keer terug te komen. Beneden aan de Sukh spraken we met een plaatselijke bewoner over het grote bord met een reclame-spreuk voor de Islam. Bij al het christelijke geweld hier kon dit er wel bij. Dat vond onze Nazarether ook; hij ging niet naar de moskee en was niet gewoon te bidden, maar de Koran had wel gelijk: wij zullen de “loosers” zijn!

We bezochten in Zichron Ya’akov het huis van de familie Aaronson die geschiedenis maakte vóór en tijdens de Eerste Wereldoorlog. Volgens N. Grover (Jerusalem) waren de Joden onder Turks bewind er beter aan toe dan in Europa gedurende diezelfde eeuwen. Dit ondanks onderdrukking in Palestina en ondanks de door Sarah Aaronson gesignaleerde, Armeense genocide, die nog steeds niet door Nederland, noch door Israel erkend wordt. Wellicht is de geschiedenis van Israel niet te begrijpen zonder het tijdperk van het Ottomaanse rijk (1517-1917) te kennen.

De smid Naddaf Fouad in de sukh van Nazareth.

Volgens een bewoner van Nazareth, die niet gewoon was te bidden en niet naar de moskee ging, had de Koran altijd gelijk. Volgens hem had dit bord daarom geen protesten gegeven.

Ook bezochten we Jerusalem, waar bij de Westmuur de Israelische oppermacht wel heel erg voelbaar is, maar waar het in de Arabische sukh economisch goed leek te gaan. We spraken op de trappen van de prachtige Damascus Poort Arabische studenten die niet ontevreden leken te zijn…….

Ga ik in het vliegtuig nog eens het boek van Dries van Agt lezen? Nu met andere ogen? Het is me wel iets duidelijker geworden hoezeer hier “de Arabieren” gediscrimineerd worden; net als bij ons. Maar zij láten zich ook discrimineren door hun door de Koran-gedicteerde opstelling, die maar heel langzaam veranderd (zie de artikelen in de Haaretz, International Herald Tribune van de laatste dagen). Ondertussen, gelegitimeerd of niet, dendert de Israelische economische, culturele en militaire trein met grote snelheid voort….

Visit to Israel-3

2010-11-08T11:02:00.000-08:00

De “Jordan Experience”

Op weg naar Eilat (en Petra) reden we op 1 november oostwaarts naar de Jordaan-vallei. Na Beit She’an, ten zuiden van het meer van Galilea en op de hoogte van Jenin, kwamen we de West Bank binnen; er was nauwelijks een checkpoint. Opvallend waren de uitgestrekte kassen-complexen aan de Jordaanse kant van de rivier. Blijkbaar hadden ze daar genoeg water.

Hoe makkelijk kom je hier bij Beit She’an (route 71) de grens over en hoeveel contact zou er zijn tussen de Palestijnen van de West Bank en die van de East Bank? In een restaurant van het Joodse dorp (settlement) Argaman kwamen we twee Franse jongens tegen die in een oude 2CV via Turkije, Syrië en Jordanië bij Beit She’an de grens waren overgekomen; ze waren van Parijs op weg naar Jerusalem. In 1965 was Channoch M. samen met een vriend óók in een oude 2CV via dezelfde route naar Israel gekomen; alsof er in die 45 jaar niets veranderd was; behalve dan de grensovergang. Die was in 1965 nog in Oost-Jerusalem bij de Mandelbaum Gate.

Frouke (left) and Channoch M. with the 2 French guys and their “Deux Chevaux”. They had passed the Jordan border at Beit She’an, just as Channoch had done with his 2CV 45 years ago! As if nothing had changed…..

Hoewel Jordanië en Israel vrede tekenden in 1994 is de grensovergang tussen het Hashemitische Koninkrijk Jordanië en Israel verre van open: mopperend moesten (Amerikaanse?) toeristen met hun te grote koffers een stuk niemandsland van 100 m lopend oversteken. Aan de Jordaanse kant heerste een gemoedelijkere stemming.

Rijdend langs Akaba, de enige havenstad van Jordanië, viel het op hoeveel er gebouwd werd; het leek Israel wel. Anders dan Eilat is Akaba door een 4-baans autoweg verbonden met de hoofdstad Amman; er reden echter voornamelijk vrachtauto’s en bussen met toeristen.

Hoe zit het met de verhouding tussen de Jordaniers en de Palestijnen nadat de laatsten (de PLO) in 1970 met harde hand door het Jordaanse leger verdreven werden (de Zwarte September) en Jordanië in 1988 alle administratieve banden met de West Bank had verbroken? Ik vroeg het onze chauffeur, Atya Jamra uit Akaba, die ons van Petra naar het nóg indrukwekkender Wadi Rum en later terug naar Akaba reed.

Allereerst benadrukte hij dat Palestijnen en Jordaniers voor hem één volk zijn. Wel zijn er twee identiteiten, die van de Palestijnen, meest landbouwers, en die van de Bedouinen. Hij beschouwde zichzelf als een Bedouin, hoewel hij in de stad leeft met één (?) vrouw en 6 kinderen (hij sprak van 3 kinderen en 3 meisjes). Mohammed, die ons in een Jeep door de Wadi reed, leek een échte Bedouin: Tot op zijn 10^de jaar had hij in de woestijn in een tent gewoond voordat zijn ouders naar het dorp Wadi Rum verhuisden.

Verder bevestigde Atya dat, net als bij ons, de dagelijkse kranten-meldingen van de Israelische nederzettingenpolitiek grote boosheid veroorzaken. Het bewees volgens hem dat Israel eigenlijk geen vrede wil en geen Palestijnse staat. “Die zal er niet komen zolang jij en ik leven”, zei hij berustend.

The Sinai Rose Finch, seen in Wadi Rum everywhere near water.

Atya knoopt Lidie een hoofddoek om in Bedouinse stijl.

Op de rots heeft Mohammed via zijn mobiel contact met……

Atya, om te zeggen dat we eraan komen.

Visit to Israel-2

2010-10-31T10:44:00.000-07:00

From Neil Safier, author of the book about La Condamine “Measuring the New World”, I received the 27-page report La Condamine wrote about his journey to the Levant in 1731. It appears that he had indeed been to Jerusalem, where he found stones with the form and size of peas, and to Mount Carmel where some stones resembled petrified melons and olives…. No mentioning of the people he met.

First page of La Condamine’s report on his visit to North Africa, Palestine and Constantinople. No mentioning of the people he met.

Bezoek aan Israel-2

(see for translation: http://www.google.com/language_tools?hl=en)

Wat Dries van Agt ( in “Een Schreeuw om Recht”, 2009) schrijft over het “foute Israel” liegt er niet om! Bladzijde na bladzijde worden de misdaden van de Israeliers opgesomd en besproken, zoals bijvoorbeeld de in 1948 veroorzaakte vlucht van Palestijnse bewoners (al-Nakba). Als de Yom Kippur-oorlog van 1973 ter sprake komt begint het idee te knagen dat er iets in van Agt’s betoog ontbreekt. In deze onverwachte oorlog sneuvelden 2500 Israelische soldaten, werden er 15000 gewond en waren Golda Meir en Moshe Dayan tot wanhoop gedreven. Maar voor van Agt is alleen de disproportionele reactie van Israel die erop volgt het vermelden waard. Verontwaardigd volgt een verdere opsomming van wandaden en uitspraken, informatie die vaak door Israelische media verkregen is (o.a. door B’Tselem). Onjuist lijkt me zijn beschrijving van de economische toestand in Arabische steden en op de Westbank, waar ik tijdens mijn vorige bezoek toch vooruitgang en zelfs enige welstand meende te kunnen zien.

Van Agt is wel consequent: hij vindt (p.268) dat de Zionisten begonnen zijn met het verdrijven van de Palestijnen. En dus is het gewetenloze Israel de eerst-verantwoordelijke en voor altijd de hoofd-schuldige. Hoewel hij de problemen wel noemt (p. 316) lijkt het van Agt niet veel te kunnen schelen dat de Sjiitische Hezbollah en de Sunnitische Hamas zich laten steunen door Iran dat de Holocaust ontkent.

Ik lees dit allemaal in het vliegtuig naar Tel Aviv. Vanwaar mijn onwil om tóch zijn kant niet te kiezen? Omdat ik dan rechtsomkeert zou moeten maken, terug naar Nederland, waar geen sprake is van verkapte slavernij of discriminatie van Moslims?

Op het prachtige vliegveld worden we opgewacht door Chanoch M., die ons naar de welvarende, niet-religieuze en “linkse” Kibbutz Hazorea (‘de Zaaier’) brengt. Hij woont daar al meer dan 40 jaar met Mirjam, dochter van één van de oprichters. Deze mensen, allemaal twintigers, begonnen hun avontuur in de moshav Hadera, trokken vervolgens naar de Turkse caravansérail (‘khan’) bij de plaats Yoqne’am en richtten tenslotte in 1936 de kibbutz Hazorea op een nabijgelegen stuk land (200 ha), dat zij kochten van een Efendi-landeigenaar in Beirut.

Een “linkse” kibbutz betekent politieke verbintenis met de Meretz-partij, de bereidheid om zich terug te trekken tot de grenzen van 1967, het erkennen van Palestijnse zelfbeschikking en het mogelijk maken van een Palestijnse staat. Hieraan houdt de kibbutz nog steeds vast, hoewel elders de laatste jaren steeds minder mensen deze mening zijn toegedaan.

Left: White pelicans above the fishponds of the Kibbutz. Right: With a "motorized", female Goshawk (Accipter gentilis) the people of the kibbutz try to chase away the many birds, e.g. the white egrets.

Van Agt betoogt met vele voorbeelden dat Israel in werkelijkheid geen vrede wil. Maar hoe zit het met de Palestijnen? Ook voor hen heeft er altijd een “groot Islamitisch Kalifaat” bestaan, het heilige land van Mohammed, dat nooit door moslims aan ongelovigen kan worden afgestaan. In het verleden heeft Israel wel degelijk vrede getekend, eerst met Egypte (Anwar Sadat, 1979), later met Jordanië (koning Hussein, 1994). Maar dit waren beiden seculiere personen, die het beste met hun volk voor hadden en niet in het verleden wilden blijven steken. Ook Arafat was seculier, maar die durfde niet tegen zijn godsdienstige moslim onderdanen in te gaan en volgde hen, bijvoorbeeld met de invoering van een nieuw onderwijsprogramma, waarin tot de jihad wordt aangemoedigd.

Ik moet weer denken aan wat Naema Tahir (zie vorige post) gezegd heeft: dat religieuze moslims zó in het verleden leven dat zij veranderingen in het heden moeilijk kunnen accepteren. Misschien te vergelijken met sommige groepen van de Joodse Chassidim, die de staat Israel niet erkennen? Met zulke mensen is het schier onmogelijk tot overeenkomsten over de toekomst te komen.

Journey to the Levant

2010-10-25T22:44:00.000-07:00

One of the reasons why La Condamine was selected for the Franco-Hispanic expedition to Quito was the fact that he had (in 1731) accompanied an eighteen-month excursion to the Levant (which includes Israel and the Palestinian Territories) with the infamous captain M. Duguay-Trouin. Because we are going to Israel tomorrow, I wondered what La Condamine’s experiences had been there.

However, I could not find any information about his journey. Instead, I found a website of the Cassuto family describing the travels of Moses Cassuto, member of a Jewish Florentine family, to Palestine in 1733.

For his three-week journey by caravan from Alexandria to Hebron he had to buy camel-bags and to rent a camel. Once in Hebron he remarks that “there are no Catholics or Christians at all there, but the hebrews inhabit forty houses in a ghetto…they have a synagogue…”. He further notes: “…it often happens that the Arabs quarrel and are at war with each other, and the Hebrews, so as not to be involved, have to satisfy both sides be sweetening their mouths in order to be left in peace.” In Jerusalem the 2000 Jews had no ghetto but could live where they pleased. There were two synagogues. In Safed there were about 8000 Turkish inhabitants and 2000 Jews. He visited many graves, caves and hot baths, and places like Tiberias on lake Kineret, where we will perhaps also go.

Because of the many discussions about the Israel-Palestine conflict in the Netherlands I continue this blog with a statement in dutch:

Bezoek aan Israel

In 1948 werd de onafhankelijkheid van de staat Israel uitgeroepen. Wij kwamen in dat jaar te wonen in een groot huis in H’sum met zeven families die door de Tweede Wereldoorlog bijeengeveegd waren. Er woonde een jongen van mijn leeftijd (8 jr) en er was een vrouw met een hondje die ze “Liberty” noemde, omdat hij was komen aanlopen op Bevrijdingsdag. Ik begreep toen niet wat dat was.

Aan de overkant van de Mozartlaan was een witte villa met drie families, waar ruzie mee was, maar waar ook jongens woonden. We mochten echter niet met hen spelen want “het waren NSB’ers”. Ik begreep toen niet wat dat was. Wel waren zij het die onze hutten vernielden die we in een naburige, verlaten tuin bouwden.

Hoe zou het zijn als de situatie daar zo gebleven is? Als dezelfde families er nog wonen, nog steeds ruzie met elkaar hebben en niet willen erkennen dat beiden er recht van wonen hebben? Wat zou er van die NSB-jongens geworden zijn? Als ik die families zou kunnen bezoeken, zou ik iets van die burenruzie kunnen begrijpen nu ik weet wat Bevrijdingsdag en NSB betekent? Zou ik, als buitenstaander, de gevoelens van verlorenheid en verlatenheid bij die NSB-kinderen kunnen peilen? (Bas Kromhout, “Het laatste taboe in Nederland: NSB kinderen”. 2010. Historisch Nieuwsblad. )

In Israel lijkt sinds 1948 wat betreft de verhouding tussen Joden en Palestijnen niets veranderd te zijn: een “groene lijn” (sinds 1967) en nu ook een muur (sinds 2003), scheidt de buren die elkaars bestaansrecht niet willen erkennen en die géén van beiden de ruzie lijken te kunnen beëindigen. De vraag is waarom niet en wanneer dan ooit? We gaan er op bezoek en zouden er iets meer van willen begrijpen.

Net als ik ergeren veel Nederlanders zich aan het autoritaire, treiterende gedrag van de Joodse, religieuze kolonisten. Met Dries van Agt (zie The Rights Forum) trekken zij daaruit de conclusie dat de Palestijnen beschermd moeten worden tegen de “vermorzeling” door Israel en keuren zij Israel’s “apartheidspolitiek” af. Het is mogelijk dat deze afkeuring door dezelfde gevoelens bepaald wordt die ons in 1992 Dutchbat naar Srebrenica deden sturen om er de Bosnische moslims te beschermen tegen de oppermachtige Serviërs. Gevoelens die volgens een NIOD rapport versterkt zouden kunnen zijn door “een schuldbesef dat Nederlanders in de Tweede Wereldoorlog te weinig hadden gedaan” (zie Frits Bienfait, “Is Links beter dan Rechts?”. 2010. Uitgeverij IJzer, Utrecht).

Het, als buitenstaanders, peilen van gevoelens van verlatenheid en verlorenheid is buitengewoon moeilijk. Wel is het me telkens opgevallen tijdens mijn bezoeken (een 6-tal) aan Israel hoe vrijwel íedereen die ik er sprak zwarte bladzijden in zijn verleden had. De langdurige en redelijke wens van Joden om in Palestina te komen wonen en, na 1948, hun gelegitimeerde recht om daar een “democratische staat voor het Joodse volk” te vestigen is van het begin af aan (1936) en tot op heden systematisch ontkend door de Palestijnen en de omringende Arabische landen.

Daarmee is voor iemand die niet in Heilige Landen gelooft Israel’s politiek van uitzetting, die tot de al-Nakba (1947-1948) heeft geleid, niet verklaard noch goed te praten. Het bewijst alleen dat de geschiedenis ons niets kan leren.

Maar wat betreft het heden: De Arabieren accepteren niet dat bij een twee-staten oplossing Israel een Joodse staat zal zijn. In de Palestijnse staat zal de Islam de dominante godsdienst zijn terwijl de grondwet gebaseerd zal zijn op de Shari’a (zie Ratna Pelle). De Arabieren die zich als moslims superieur moeten voelen vonden zich ooit miskend en kunnen de verandering niet verkroppen. Volgens Naema Tahir (zie Buitenhof 17-10-2010) “dwingt” de Koran hen om naar het roemruchte verleden van profeet Mohammed te blijven verlangen, waardoor zij het heden alleen als een bedreiging ervaren. Wát de Israeliers ook doen zij zullen Israel als een Joodse staat nimmer goedschiks accepteren zo lang zij, door hun Koran, in het verleden blijven leven.

Epilogue-2

2010-07-01T10:42:00.000-07:00

After our return things related to our journey continued to happen.

First, there was the accident with a crowded lancha similar to the one we took at Sarameriza. The motonave “Camila” capsized downstream of Iquitos on May 26, 2010; 24 people drowned; more than 20 people wounded; 10 tourists survived.

There were 260 people on board while its capacity was only 150. It appears that the boat was transporting drugs (24 kilo of PBC; pasta basica de cocaina) hidden in sacs with oranges.

Pictures from: http://www.peru.com/buscador/index.aspx

Second, there are the e-mails from Eduardo Tapia telling us that the bi-national project “Eje Vial #4” of Ecuador and Peru continues to be financed and that the road from La Balsa to Parico will become paved (See Blog 17/2/2010 “From Zumba to Jaen”).

He also sent a map from the region between Bagua Grande and Santa Maria de Nieva, which he had photographed from the wall in a hotel in SmdNieva. It is becoming more clear how we drove from Imacita to SMdNieva on 19/2/2010. The distance as the crow flies was only 70 km; but it took us 7 hours!

Combination of four maps showing similar positions indicated by the red arrows: (A) Carta Hydrográfica (Rio Amazonas, Formadores y Afluentes; 2006 . Escala 1:1’000.000) in possession of Hilbert van der Meer. (B) Military map of Ecuador (Escala 1:1’000.000) in possession of Antoine Cleef. (C) Tourist map obtained by Eduardo Tapia. (D) Image obtained by Google Earth.

Third, there was the encounter on May 30 with Neil Safier at the railway station of Amersfoort, of all places….. During a short hour we exchanged our experiences with “La Condamine”. He told me that an american, Larrie D. Ferreiro, is writing a book about La Condamine, which will probably appear next year.

Since Neil is in Europe for some months we can perhaps meet again this summer.

With Neil Safier at the railway station of Amersfoort on May 30, 2010.

Epilogue-1

2010-05-13T08:00:00.000-07:00

So…., we made our “voyage” from Quito (aarival 6/2) to Paramaribo (departure 25/3). It was not a touristic route La Condamine and Maldonado had taken. But they took us to interesting places and unexpected experiences. In their time, 257 years ago, the Jesuits played an important role in furnishing them information, transport and comfort in the mission posts. Now, we could meet fellow travelers, could hire guides or take a plane.

Also, when preparaing the journey, we could make use of Google Earth. But did that really help us? I remember how I couldn’t find any road between Bagua and Santa Maria de Nieva, because the program didn’t have “imagery at the necessary zoom level” for that region; at the lower zoom levels it only showed frightening landscapes of seemingly unpenetrable woods and mountains. The maps we had were different or wrong in many places.

But now we know: there áre roads and villages and everywhere houses where people make a living. And not all maps are wrong: A friend, following this blog, could find the Pongo de Manseriche and the place from where the river was navigable on a map in our school atlas (“Schoolatlas der Gehele Aarde”, Bos-Niermeyer) of 1951! A real good map is the “Carta Hidrografica”, but we only obtained it when we were already in Iquitos!

In the center of this picture from the dutch “Bos-Atlas” the Pongo de Manseriche is indicated. The anchor signifies that the Amazon is navigable from here on; we now know that this place is called Sarameriza.

Part of a very good map! The Carta Hidrografica – Región Amazónica del Perú (escala 1 : 1000000) was obtained by Hilbert in Iquitos. On this map we find no roads, but villages like Corral Quemado (see arrow and below) and names I had written down, like El Muyo, Montenegro, Cusu Grande and Siasme are indicated. Juan Velasquez on the Rio Nieva opposite to Santa Maria de Nieva, is not specified; or is it the same as Achuaga? We also see the course of the “Oleoducto”, which our road seemed to follow.

Apart from seeing La Condamine’s apartment in the Colegio Maximo, climbing the Francesurcu mountain, finding the bronze ruler or visiting the many places he mentions in his book (eg. the Pongo de Manseriche, Borja, Santarem, Belém, Cayenne), the greatest experience was meeting the many different people traveling with us. La Condamine had learned spanish and indian languages in Quito, but did he speak portuguese? We had only learned spanish, but should also have learned at least some portuguese….

Looking back at the pictures one can be impressed by the many things we saw. But there were só many things we missed. Why didn’t I speak with the men in the little pub at the end of the muddy path going out of Nieva? Was I afraid because they were shouting and laughing at us? Yes!; and now I still do not know how it is to talk spanish with some drunk guys. And why didn’t I ask more questions to Washurú in Sarameriza? Because the music was so loud that I couldn’t hear him anyway? Now I still do not know what his involvement was during the uprising of the Awajún indigenas on 10 May 2009 or during the massacre on 7 June 2009. When we crossed the Corral Quemado bridge on our way from Jaen to Bagua (insert), I didn’t think anymore of the terrible video movies I had seen before our journey on Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9pXLvlXZR6I . The BBC reported that some 10-50 indigenas and 24 police officers were killed: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8093729.stm

And in Manaus, why didn’t we go for the terra preta site that had been pointed out to us by Marc van Roosmalen? Because La Condamine didn’t know about terra preta? Was this way of performing agriculture still applied in 1743?

Uprising of Awajún indigenas on the Corral Quemado bridge (10 May 2009). Is it the same bridge that we crossed (insert)?

In Belém, on the other hand, we díd go to places where, I think, we had nothing to do. On Monday (8/3) we were looking for the Archivo Publico in the Vila Campos Sales, in the old quarter “Comércio”. The building was closed so we walked down the narrow street, a poor, crowded market where they were selling clothes, food, mobile phones in endless rows of market tents. People were still sleeping on the street, some were washing themselves with the water from a leaking water pipe; “toilets” were in the side streets. Men were carrying heavy loads, women were talking, laughing, hardly looking at us, walking purses stuffed with money they were lacking. What else could they do than ignore or rob us? They let us pass, seemingly uninterested, as if asking “are you coming to look how poor we are?”. That is how I felt: we had nothing to do there, with all the money of the Evangelical world we could not have helped them and they could not have been interested in La Condamine, our excuse for coming there. If you are a tourist limit yourself to tourist places!

Back in Holland I had to get used again to the clichés of “biodiversity” (that is the páramo on El Tiro mountain; see blog 17 February 2010) or “green current” (what is that?) and the “Xingu dam” (200 km south of the Amazon river), that would flood and destroy 500 square kilometers of “intact Amazon rainforest”, like that over which we had been flying (we flew over its mouth between Santarem and Belém). My first reaction was: “why don’t we mind our own business?” Does Greenpeace really think that, after having deforestated Europe, we know a better way for developing a country like Brazil?

Last days in Suriname

2010-03-25T12:45:00.000-07:00

The Presidential Palace where La Condamine was invited to stay by the dutch governor Mauricius.

24/3. During our stay in Suriname we slept in Camp David, about 30 km south of Paramaribo. During his 5-day stay in Suriname, La Condamine enjoyed the hospitality of the dutch governor Mauricius. He stayed in the presidential palace that had been renewed in 1730. However, in 1742, the palace was in such a bad state that Mauricius continued to live on his plantation, using the house of his son for receptions and banquets. La Condamine did not complain and only writes that he measured the northern latitude and performed "some other observations" before leaving on a dutch ship for Amsterdam.

He measured: "5 degrés 49 minutes septentrionale".

The GPS, borrowed from Carlos Mena in Quito gave: N 5° 49' 33'' and W 55° 9' 7''. A fortuitous correspondence?

Presntly, the Suriname president does not live in this colonial house; it is only used for receptions.

That Mauricius invited La Condamine to come to Paramaribo offering him his house, a passage to Holland with a passport "en cas de rupture entre la France et les Etats Généraux" seems an indication of a good relationship between the two colonies. I wonder whether this relationship is still so good. In Cayenne, for instance, people hardly knew who Bouterse was and if they knew they didn't want to speak about it. It was therefore a surprise to hear from Phil Boré about a radio program of "France-Inter", with the following introduction:

"Patrick Pesnot; samedi 27 février 2010

La guerre civile au Suriname

D’aucuns l’ont appelée la Babel tropicale… Un curieux petit pays métissé, où l’on croise des créoles, des Indiens, des Amérindiens, des Javanais, des Chinois et des Européens… Et où, malgré le fait que la langue officielle soit le néerlandais, on parle au moins 15 dialectes. Je veux parler du Suriname, l’ancienne Guyane hollandaise, un Etat situé au nord du Brésil, coincé entre le Guyana et notre Guyane française.

Mais pourquoi évoquer aujourd’hui avec Monsieur X ce pays lointain dont la plupart d’entre nous ignorent l’histoire et même la localisation exacte ? D’abord parce qu’à lui seul le Suriname concentre un certain nombre des dangers qui pèsent sur notre planète : une déforestation démesurée, une exploitation irraisonnée des richesses naturelles et la pollution qui en découle, une misère latente, une violence endémique, une situation politique chaotique, une corruption latente, un trafic de drogue en expansion et, coiffant toutes ses difficultés et les expliquant en partie, la fièvre de l’or…

Il faut ajouter que le voisinage du Suriname avec la Guyane française ne laisse pas d’inquiéter… Car le Suriname exporte aussi ses propres maux sur l’autre rive du fleuve Maroni… Là où se trouve la précieuse base européenne de lancement de fusées de Kourou… Autant dire l’importance stratégique du Suriname dont, pourtant, les médias parlent rarement.

Monsieur X propose donc de donner un coup de projecteur sur cette région méconnue et d’analyser les menaces qu’elle représente…"

I am trying to obtain the rest of the discussion which sounded to me quite good and nuanced.

Enjoying a glass of rum and eating peanuts, we had a long discussion in Camp David about the revolution or coup in 1980, the killings in December 1982 and the civil war that followed between Bouterse (with many indians in the army) and Brunswijk (Jungle commando of Bosland Creolen), lasting about 3 years. Dennis and Dole had quite different experiences. Dennis knew most of the army people that were involved in the coup and emphasized the difficult decisians they had to take. He cited Bouterse saying that it is most dangerous "to push a peaceful man too far".

Dole, on the other hand, had just started his study at the law faculty and joined the "destabilization forces", participating in all kinds of demonstrations. When the killings occurred he told how they felt defeated....

A complicating factor in Suriname is that this is a small community (less than 500.000) in which everybody seems to know each other. This became more clear to me when Dennis introduced me to Ronny Brunswijk. We had entered a supermarket where mainly Brazilian people and gold seekers come. I was looking there for jam of the palmfruit "Podosiri" or "Asai". I thought Dennis was making a joke with me and shook hands with a big, laughing, black Bosland Creool. But it was Brunswijk indeed. As member of the "National Assemblee" he had obtained land where gold was present. That was probably his reason for coming there....

Looking for birds with Otte Ottema in Peperpot and Weg naar Zee.

On Tuesday (23 March) we fetched Otte Ottema at his house and drove to Peperpot where it just became light. We saw some beautiful birds like Little cuckoo, Cinnamon attila, Blackish antbird, Blackcrested antshrike (een paartje) and finally the beautiful Greentailed Jacamar! On the Weg naar Zee, we saw many more birds like the large Savanna and Blackcoloured Hawk.

Last evening: With Paul Woei in the restaurant of his son, beautifully built in the old printing office of the journal "De Vrije Stem", bombed in 1982 by Bouterse.

The last evening we went to the restaurant of Paul Woei's son, beautifully furnished and decorated in an old printing office of the journal "De Vrije Stem". For next year, Paul Woei told us, he had made an appointment with a Suriname television station for an interview to tell about La Condamine's visit to the Guyana's. So, the story has not yet ended.....

Paramaribo and visit to the Upper Suriname river

2010-03-22T10:44:00.000-07:00

The new Leica fluorescence microscope acquired by the MWI to be used for detection of chromosomal aberrations.

17, 18 and 19/3. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. One of our visits had been to the "Medisch Wetenschappelijk Instituut", a medical institute connected to the "Anton de Kom" University. There we visited Audrey Lo-Fo-Sang and Joan Werners with whom I had corresponded about bringing a fluorescence microscope sponsored by Fraen-Company (Milan) to Paramaribo, just as the one we brought to Salatiga in Indonesia. This time, however, contacts with Fraen were postponed and will have to be restored again. We also met Prof. Mrs. Adin, who explained to us a real-time PCR machine used for detection of influenza, malaria and Chlamidia; not an easy thing to explain......

The Afobaka dam and (right) the Brokopondo drainage basin (stuwmeer), with to the west the Brownsberg mountains in the far distance.

On Thursday we left Camp David at 8 a.m. arriving at the Afrobaka dam around 11 o'clock. Although the water level was low it is still an impressive drainage basin. Driving west of the lake through the Brownsberg mountains we saw the so-called "transmigratie"-villages built for the people who originally lived in the Brokopondo area. These people were "Bosland Creolen", mostly Saramakans, descendants of fugitive slaves. The villages are characterized by the so-called "kostgrondjes", gardens from where vegetables and fruits are obtained. They are always accompanied by newly-burned areas where new gardens will be started. This habbit of slash-and-burn causes much concern among "green" people in Europe. Driving now through this region of secondary forests the burned areas do not make me too depressed: it is not a nice sight, but it occurs on a small scale and re-forestation seems to occur rapidly.

Left: A typical village garden ("kostgrondje") where casave (tapioca), "mais" and bananas are cultivated.

Right: a recently burned area where a new garden will be started.

The dirt road to Isadou was still bad, but a Chinese company is working hard to make a pavement. Strange to see the Chinese characters on all their equipment and trucks. In Pokigron we took a koreaal to Isadoe (meaning "Welcome" in the Saramakan language) on the Upper Suriname river. There we slept in a little house drawn by Hilbert.

Left: Port of Pokigron with many "korealen" on the Upper Suriname river.

Right: In a "koreaal" with a 85 PK motor over the Upper Suriname river to Isadou. The bottom of a "koreaal" consists of a dugout canoe. This is enlarged with planks.

Hilbert's impression of our house in Isadou.

Before making a walk through the jungle André, the owner of Isadoe, had to remove a "Sika" (a rapidly growing bag of eggs laid by a sand flea just beneath the skin) from underneath my foot. Then, we went by boat ("koreaal") over the river chasing away many kingfishers. Later, walking over a path through the jungle of a secondary forest, we saw three little monkeys ("Sagowijntjes") high up in the trees. It was difficult to follow them and they had soon disappeared.... How diificult it must be to make a study of the behavior of these monkeys like performed by Marc van Roosmalen (see his book "Blootsvoets door de Amazone")!

Left: In the early morning André removes a "sika" from underneathe my foot using a needle from a palm tree.

Right: Fog over the river.

Dennis accompanying us to the koreaal and a large Ringed Kingfisher or "Fisman".

When am I going to learn all these plants and trees and the stories about their healing or "Winti" powers?

Our guide, Dorus Amimba, showed us many medicinal plants and told us the stories about their healing power. For instance, "Neku", a liana used to intoxicate fish. Later, in a village, we saw how little boys were pounding the leaves of this liana with a large wooden pestle. When walking through Gunsi we met his uncle, Done Adriaan, who had worked as surveyor in the large Canadian gold mine near Brownsberg and who was now the "Kapitein" of the village.

The Uncle and an aunt of Dorus, our guide with whom we walked through Gunsi, a Saramakan village.

The "Bosland creolen", descendants of fugitive slaves, consist of various tribes like the Saramakans, the Matuaries or Kwintis, the Aucaners (to which Ronnie Brunswijk belongs) and the Paramakaners. In general, these people live much closer "to nature" than the original amerindians. The indians in Suriname (Caraïbs, Arowaks, Trios and Wajanas) seem to take over western habits much easier; they seem more adapted to western culture except when they go hunting! Bosland creoles are more farmers than hunters. (Information from Dennis Chin-a-Foeng).

Dorus was roman catholic. He called the religion in Gunsi "heiden" (pagan), but agreed that it should be called "Winti". The little houses in Gunsi had small doors, believed to make it difficult for bad ghosts to enter. When I asked Dorus about his deformed fingertips (lepra?), he said that it had been caused by bad ghosts when he was still a little kid. It had finally been healed by a Dresiman (shaman). He also explained that this non-christian village was protected against bad ghosts by low gates, called "asanpau", at the entrances; again bad ghosts cannot pass such low entrances.

Left: A typical house in the non-christian village Gunsi, with a low door that prevents bad ghosts from entering the house.

Right: Two women coming from their garden ("kostgrondje"), one transporting vegetables, the other wood.

A protecting gateway ("asanpau" in Saramakan) at the entrance of the village.

Visits in Paramaribo

2010-03-21T11:59:00.000-07:00

Left: Visit to the atelier of Paul Woei. Right: His poster that started our interest in the voyage of La Condamine.

15 and 16/3. Monday and Tuesday. We had a very pleasant visit to the house of Paul woei. He told us how, together with art students, he had made the tourist poster that told us for the first time about La Condamine and had started our interest in him. He also told us that there was a kind of monument memorizing the determination by La Condamine of the position of Paramaribo during his short visit to the town. He thought we could get more information at the museum of the town.

It appeared that Paul Woei had been studying in Amsterdam in the early sixties and that we had common memories of a little restaurant behind the Binnen-Bantammerstraat, where you had to go down a small staircase to buy a nassi-goreng for 1 guilder.

We visited his atelier and drank Markusa-juice of fruits from his garden with his wife. We watched a beautiful video he had made himself of his visits to the people of the Upper Suriname river which he had also painted ("A Journey of Art in the Rainforest"). Then Dennis drove us to the Waterkant next to Fort Zeelandia to see the "monument" (see photograph). It was a copper circle in the pavement of the old quay ("aanlegsteiger") divided in 32 parts with a cross in the middle that seemed to indicate the 4 winds.

Left: Was this a circle that memorized La Condamine's determination of the position of Paramaribo's fort?

Right: In the back the presidential palace where a second "ijkroos" (for compass calibration) occurs on the terrace.

So, after a telephone call by Dennis' wife, Cindy, who seems to know everyone in Paramaribo, we went the next day to Mr. Bubberman, who worked in the museum and who was interested in La Condamine. He showed us old history books and old maps, but couldn't give us any confirmation about La Condamine's "monument". He advised to search in the journals of Mauricius, the governor that had invited La Condamine to come to Paramaribo. These were still present in the Dutch National Archive.

Looking in history books and old maps with Mr. F.C. Bubberman in the museum.

Finally, after another telephone call by Cindy, we went to the architect Philip Dikland. He told us that the circle was a so-called "ijkroos" used for calibration of compasses and that there was another more intact circle on the terrace behind the presidential palace. The distance between the two circles could have served to calibrate the length of a measuring-chain. He didn't know whether the circles existed already in 1744, but he did know that La Condamine was helped by the local land surveyor named De Lancourt, when determining the position, probably at the present location of the statue of Lachmon. Such positions, however, were not used in the dutch maps of the time. Only in 1870 the map of Cateau shows the first position measurement. He gave me a beautiful article entitled "Landmeters in Suriname van 1667 tot en met 1861".

Philip Dikland: making maps of the plantations in Suriname, using a minute glass and a rowing boat to calculate distances.

Camp David Impressions

2010-03-21T11:06:00.000-07:00

Entrance Camp David with the big lounge.

14/3. Sunday. Waking up at 5 p.m. I thought it was already becoming light. A rooster was crowing nearby, but no other birds could be heard. Only, infrequently, the strange noise of a bat and the continuous sounds of crickets. I went down to my hammock under the big roof of the lounge. At 6 a.m.the stars started to disappear and it finally became lighter. Now I heard a loud, melodious sound "ou-yee-you"; probably frogs. Only around 6:20 the first birds started to sing: the "Daguka", the "Gadofowru" (bird-of-God), the "Blauwtjes" and, finally everywhere, the Great Kiskadee or "Grietjebie", which we already saw at the Ecuador-Peru border. It will take some time again before I know the most common ones. It was near 7 a.m. and fully light when the mosquitos chased me out of my hammock.

Left: Our bedroom with a "guard" above the door. Right: Hilbert relaxing in a hammock with dog and rooster.

Camp David is a forest camp, not a luxurious resort! That means that you should accept reaching it via a very bumpy road, having a large spider above your door, a frog jumping in front of you in the dark when walking over the grass, a small lizard under your bed or the sounds of bats outside the screens of the windows. The shower gives one type of clean well-water and is warmer in the evening than in the morning. When it is dark (7:30 p.m.) the electricity is switched on, allowing you to recharge your batteries and to fall asleep on a bed or in a hammock in the cool breeze of a van. You can call this semi-luxurious.

Dole has prepared a traditional meal with rice, vegetables and fried fish.

Left: It is Rambutan-time! A neighbour of Javanese descent gives us two kinds of Rambutan. Right: The monkey Kobus living half-wild down the road likes the rambutan.

In the morning Dole makes coffee or tea and for breakfast warm little breds with fried eggs. Then, there is time for reading, for looking around at the "Redikins" (Silver-beaked Tanager) and "Doifi's", for making a walk to the surrounding developments or for asking Dennis to tell about the complicated and dramatic events in the eighties with the military coups of Rambocus, then Bouterse and, finally, the civil war with the "Bosland Creoles" (van Brunswijk), all happening within a community of some 450.000 people of very different origins, brought together by the Dutch.

Left: In what butterfly will this large (10 cm), hairy beast transform itself? Right: On a walk behind Camp David.

Eating peanuts during a rain shower. The only tasteful thing La Condamine could enjoy on his voyage seemed to be "cacahouètes".

From Cayenne to Paramaribo

2010-03-15T08:03:00.000-07:00

Left: Title page of an interesting work about La Condamine found in the Archives of Cayenne.

Right: First page of the "Relation abrégé d'un voyage fait dans l'intérieur de l'Amérique méridionale....etc." , of which I have been reading a 1981-edition, also found in the Archives.

12/3. Friday. In the morning we first went to the "Archives de la Ville de Cayenne". Asking for information about La Condamine we were kindly given a "Travail écrit supplémentaire" by M. Kristen Sarge (rechercheur), entitled "Charles de La Condamine (1701-1774) et les Guyanes: Ses derniers jours dans le Nouveau Monde". Then they told us there was another book to be found in a nearby building "Bibliothèque Franconie". This appeared to be a little booklet with beautiful drawings (aquarelles) about the voyage, entitled: "En descendant la Rivière des Amazones". I hope the booklet can still be purchased.

In the Bibliothèque we met Sylvie Pappalardo, director of the Bibliothèque, Phil Boré, writer of travel guides of Guyana and Suriname, and Philippe Guyot, director of the Archives, who all gave us useful information. Later we bought Phil's interesting, little book "Balades aux Suriname".

A charming, little booklet about La Condamine's voyage.

Phil Boré and Philippe Guyot, at the Bibliothèque Franconie, who gave us useful information about Guyana and Suriname.

In the evening we made a short walk to the fort overlooking peaceful, european Cayenne. In a shop we spoke a Guayanese, who told us that he often went to Paramaribo, because "there was life in that town"....

We ate in our hotel and went early to bed.

View over Cayenne from the fort.

13/3. Saturday. The mini-bus driver had asked us to be ready at 5:15 a.m. He would then pick us up at the hotel. Other people (from Suriname and Paris) were already in the car. After some more stops throughout the still-sleeping, dark town, we drove to the bus station. But there were still two unoccupied places and we understood that we had to wait until new passengers would arrive. Finally, at 8 o'clock we were with 8 people, a CD was installed and with a deafening beat we departed. Songs about trouble, drugs and love-for-love solidly filled the car. But, after a while (did I had become a littlebit deaf?), I thought that I could better understand these troubled people than our highly-educated academicians in the lab of Amsterdam, listening the whole day to whatever music and nonsense the dutch radio was presenting them.....

The bus driver proudly showing me his CD's.

In Iracoubou we had to change our bus. When all luggage was transferred, a third mini-bus arrived. The drivers had a loud "fight" with the result that we had to transfer again to the new bus. We drove over high-quality roads through beautiful landscapes that reminded us of Suriname and arrived at 11:30 a.m. in St. Laurent at the broad Maroni river (Marowijne). Again we were "attacked" by many Creole people who grabbed at our bsckpacks trying to get us in their boat accross the river to Albina. But we could speak dutch now! We chose one boat, went over to the French police, crossed the river and went to the Suriname custumes. And there Dennis came with Hilbert's brother Louis who happened to be in Suriname. Our journey had ended!

In French Guyana we drove over "european" roads.

Traversing the broad Marowijne river.

In Albina Dennis Chin-a-Foeng came to fetch us: End of the journey.

From Belém to Macapá-2

2010-03-12T23:19:00.000-08:00

Sunset (9/3) and sunrise (10/3) viewed from our boat as we sailed past Ilha de Marajó.

10 and 11/3. Wednesday and Thursday. Tuesday evening Hilbert woke me up saying: "I found a person who speaks french and is also going to Oiapoque!". I immediately went with him and met a large figure on the dark deck. We spoke a long time about his journey and ours before I went to bed again.

At 5:50 a.m. it was still dark, but the sun was rising. People are cleaning the ship. Someone talking Brazilian to me, walks away and then comes back from the lower deck with a cup of sweet milk coffee. I can only say "obrigado". After 20 min, at 6:10 a.m. it is already light.

Only once we saw a sail on a boat in the far distance.

During this trip just half around the Ilha de Marajó, we obtained more than ever before a feeling of the vastness of these Amazon waters. We are going North-West and are about half-way between Belém and Macapá. Even what is drawn on our map as narrow channels west of the Ilha, appears to be a sequence of broad rivers or rather vast lakes. The Delta in Zeeland (Holland) will look very small when we will see it. What an immense task carthographers like La Condamine had when trying to map these waters.

Typical houses along the coasts of this part of the Rio Amazonas.

Note the large satellite dish and the wooden planks with which they probably can earn some money.

Everything on the boat is still humid. On these waters we see no trunks or plant-islands. The land bordering the river is owned by the Provincia. The people living here are more or less illegal, but the governement allows them to stay. Most houses seem to be very poor. Regularly, however, we see larger settlements next to a wood factory.

One of the rare narrow channels we went through; mostly we went over vast, wide lakes.

Talking with the only tourists on board. From left to right: Konoka, Marise Bianay, Hilbert,

Tetsuhide and Christophe Bianay.

(Again they told us that we resembled Clint Eastwood and Cousteau.....)

At 3 p.m. we arrive in Macapá. Christophe helps us to find a taxi on the busy quay. In spite of the crowd I could not identify "chorro's", young people looking for their prey. But Christophe was careful and told us to wait a bit before going down the gangway. It was nót his fault that we payed the taxi that brought us to the busstation (Rodoviaria) twice the amount he had agreed upon. At the bus station there were many people selling seats for different prices. It was not easy, but Christophe managed to get some last seats in a bus to Oiapoque leaving that evening. Otherwise we would have had to wait 24 h, because the buses appeared to be driving only during the night.

At the busstation in Macapá. Christophe with wife Marise and daughter Mona and a lot of luggage.

I had not been able to get enough satellites to measure a position in Belém. But now it went smoothly. Position: N 0° 4' 23'', W 51° 3' 17'' (altitude -24 m). I am using the GPS borrowed from the San Francisco University at Quito. What a long time ago was that! How much patience did it cost La Condamine before he could write down a position?

During his journey from Belém to Oiapoque, La Condamine was accompanied by a "black slave", Louis, originally from Cayenne, who had been sentenced to death by the french authorities (because of disobedience) and had fled to Belém. According to the book of Neil Safier (Measuring the New World; see previous blogs) the Potuguese governor returned him to Cayenne "under the condition that he be spared the gallows, absolved of his crime, and returned to his rightful owner. La Condamine's canoe provided for his secure transport from a Portuguese prison back to the shackles of French servitude."

In our case it was the other way around: It was a descendant of slaves, Christophe, born in Guadeloupe, who helped us from the boat in Macapá to travel securely to Cayenne.

Our night bus on his way to Oiapoque at a stop in Cunani.

Note the luggage of "extra passengers" sitting in the entrance and the bags surrounding the seat of the bus driver!

We left the Macapá bus station at 6 p.m. The road was paved and the bus driver drove as fast as he could. We drove through a landscape with tree plantations on both sides. We couldn't see what kind of trees.... Then it became dark. The bus had no toilet, but stopped about once in 3-4 hours. The toilets at the restaurants became very dirty. If I understood his body language well, one Brazilian complained about it. After about 6 hours the road became an unpaved; red sand, many holes and one little valley after other. It seemed endless but after another 6 hours we arrived in Oiapoque, still in the dark. Christophe went on a mototaxi to the police station: it would open at 8 o'clock. So, being the only strangers, we had to wait before we could cross the border. I measured the Position of the Oiapoque bus station: N 3° 50' 27'', W 51° 49' 26''. We had left the equator.....

Crossing the Oiapoque river from Oiapoque to Saint George.

A beautiful white-water river over which French Guyana and Brazil are building a bridge.

In Saint George Christophe again led the way to the French border police and arranged a minibus to Cayenne. It was a beautiful, new road through a jungle that, even to a non-botanist, showed a large diversity of trees. In the distance we passed beautiful mountains (the Kaw Mountains?). Later I was told that this region contained 260 different tree species (Phil Boré).

From Belém to Macapá-1

2010-03-12T10:48:00.000-08:00

9/3. Tuesday. This morning we leave the hotel at 8:15 a.m. and drive in a taxi to the "Embarque" where we had purchased our passage to Macapá some days before. People were asking us "Manaus??", but we said "Macapá!". We only understood that something was wrong... After a while the same man who had sold us the tickets showed up, brought us without many words to the other side of the busy street and signaled us that we shoud stay and wait. Finally we were put, together with a Japanese man (in Sao Paulo live 1 million Japanese), in a car with an old driver who was transporting an outboard motor on his back seat. We could sit next to it. Screaming under our weight the old car slowly brought us to another port. There, still in time, we could settle in an air-conditioned camerote (cabin) wíth toilet; what a luxury!

Hilbert waiting before embarkation on the "Almirante do Mar", that would bring us to Macapá.

Only the middle deck (with our camerote to the right) and upper deck can be seen.

On the upper deck we met two other tourists, a young Japanese couple, Iwasaki Tetsuhide (36 yrs) and Higashi Kanako. He was a buddhist monk who spoke english and portuguese as he had worked in a temple in Sao Paulo. To my surprise he smoked; he told me that he was also allowed to drink beer and to eat meat! (How different from the Chinese buddhist I had met last year in Boston.) Kanako only spoke Japanese and didn't look too amused. And she had good reasons: Our middle deck only contained cabins while all hammocks were hanging on the lower deck with an incredible density, higher than we had experienced on our boat to Santarem. The hammocks were hanging at three to four levels and completely filled the space. The upper deck was relatively small but contained two huge loadspeaker combinations and a TV, showing singers and dancers screaming the same "song" over and over again. But the people were looking at it in full fascination. So, where else to go than on our middle deck?

Left: Where can I hang my hammock? Hammocks in 3 to 4 layers on the lower dack. Right: Hilbert with Kanako and

Tetsuhide (third and second from the right) still on the upper deck. When the "music" started we fled to the middle deck.

But, apart from all this, after 4 days in a hot and crowded Belém, feeling the breeze when the boat took off and viewing again the wide, brown water was a pleasant experience. We could offer Kanako our bathroom and that made her very happy as expressed by her reverences. The people on the boat were smaller again and very kind; more like those we had met in Peru.

Towards sunset, we passed villages from where small canoes took off in the direction of our boat. With great skill they attached themselves to the side of our boat. They tried to sell fruits. Some passengers handed over some food and cloths.

Left: Canoes with a boy and a girl: the boy jumps aboard and skilfully attaches the canoe to the side of our boat, while the girl is stearing. Right: A girl on her way to another world on the other side?

Hilbert receiving a lesson in portuguese and other things from a charming Brazileña.

Belém slowly disappears, while the boat is heading .....West, towards Ilha de Marajó!

Last day in Belém

2010-03-09T02:41:00.000-08:00

8/3. Monday. At 8 a.m. we took a taxi to the "Club do Remo" near the port, which we had detected yesterday. There we were cordially received and, with only a few words of english we were invited to row in the rough, brown water. A double skull, "Olga Nobre", had just arrived and they let us row in it! Many pictures were taken, we gave them a globe-balloon and wrote "Rowing Club Naarden" on it and we exchanged e-mail addresses. So, we finally rowed in the brown Rio Amazonas, although it actually was in the mouth of the Rio Guamá, coming out in the Baia do Guajara.

At the Club do Remo we were invited to row in a double skull.

Rowing on the brown Amazon water with waves from many motor boats.

Left: Fabio Sicilia and right the globus on which we depicted Holanda, as large as Isla Marajó!

Then, after a shower in our hotel, we walked to the museum Emilio Goeldi lying in a beautiful parc with immense trees. But it was "fechada", closed. After a siësta we took a taxi to the Arquivo Publico on Campas Sales #273, but it was "fechada" too. We walked back through the little streets of the old town full with shops and sellers to the fruit market and the docks.

The closed Arquivo Publico where we hoped to get some information about La Condamine's visit to Belém.

Big ship entering the port of Belém.

Our favorite restaurant in Belém.

The last evening we would eat with Steve West, who as an Evangelist, asked whether we allowed him to bless our meal and our journey. After the blessing he remarked that he had only asked God for our safety and not told Him how crazy we were. We had a pleasant last dinner with many conservative-republican, political viewpoints, stories and questions about Europe. You too, Steve, have a safe journey!

Two days in Belém

2010-03-08T16:42:00.000-08:00

Fruitmarket of Belém: one of the biggest in the country.

6/3. Saturday. Immediately after breakfast we take a taxi to the port to buy a passage to Macapá. We had been told to ask for Ciptour or Paratour. We asked in many places and people kindly gave directions; finally we found out that Ciptour did not exist anymore and that Paratour was just not to be found. So, after visiting the old Portuguese fort and the fruit market we walked back to the terminal of the lancha's where a man indicated that he could sell us a passage for Macapá. We bought a cabin with baño for 180 Reales p.p. and went back for a siësta in our Hotel. In the evening an american from Florida helped me with the internet; he spoke portuguese and we made an appointment for the next day.

The port of Belém: as dirty as that of Djakarta.

Here the black Vultures seem to function as flying garbage bags. Are the White Egrets there only for the contrast...?

7/3. Sunday. After breakfast we walked with the american of yesterday evening, Steve West, to the Praça da Republica. He had to contact various people there with whom he had placed orders. On this Sunday morning at 9 a.m. the place was already crowded. Steve works for "Cross Trade" (see: http://www.crosstrade.org/index.html ). After having brought-up 4 children, Steve and his wife adopted 4 Brazilian children aged more than 10 years. In addition, they work for Cross Trade as Christians: "Our desire, and prayer, for each person we serve in Brazil is that they will experience God’s love, and through any blessings Cross Trade may bring, they will give thanks to the Lord and share generously with their others."

Walking with Steve West over the Praça da Republica.

In the afternoon we visited together with Steve the parc "Mangal das Garças". Again a beautiful parc with nice birds in a large cage. In a historic exhibition we found a drawing of a brigant with sail; we could not find a reference.

In the Mangal das Garças parc a drawing of a XIIXth century brigant.

Some Brazilian impressions:

- For tourists not speaking portuguese it is véry difficult to find your way.

- Everywhere in the hotels there are saving bulbs (Philips?), but in the gas stations I never saw a car tanking alcohol.

- In the toilets you have to press an electric switch to flush. There is always a basket for used toilet paper, like in Ecuador and Peru and even on the lancha!

- People have never heard of La Condamine & Maldonado and also do not appear to be interested in this history.

- According to a lawyer from São Paulo, whom I met in the hotel, everything in Belém proceeds very slowly; he had been told that even a heart attack takes here two days....

- The more east you come the larger the chairs and tables, the better you can sit. Perhaps the people are also larger?

- In Brazilian restaurants beer is tapped from a huge, cooled glass put in the middle of the table. The service is very quiet, like in Colombia, unlike in Israel.

- There seems to be one gesture of either negative or positive understanding: a fist with thumb up.

- Parking in Belém seems to be no problem: everywhere along the streets men are waving with a towel to help you to park in or out.

- If I had to spend "church-money" I would try to organize the garbage collection along the streets in the same way. Steve thought that this was a good idea.

- In Brazil it seems that less women are pregnant or have a child in their arms than in Peru or Ecuador. Hilbert has many more observations on the women, which he will tell you when asked.

Santarem and Alter do Chão

2010-03-07T17:14:00.000-08:00

The port of Santarem, with most lancha's going to Belém. Only once a week to Macapá.

4/3. Thursday. We had asked our taxidriver, Josias, to come at 8 a.m., but when we went for breakfast at 7, he was already waiting with a guide. This is Brasil, not Peru! The guide was Albert Boy, who spoke very well english as he had worked in the U.S., helping his father with a pineapple plantation.

We first went to the harbour to ask for a passage on a lancha to Macapá. But most lancha's went to Belém. For Macapá we had to wait several days. Then we informed about a flight to Belém and this appeared to be not much more expensive. So, we made a reservation for a flight on the next day.

We told Josias that we wanted to look for "macacos" (monkeys) in Alter do Chão (pronounce like in french 'auter do champs'), according to the directions given to us by Marc van Roosmalen: he had seen La Condamine's "Golden monkeys" in the savanna's ("campinaranas") near Alter do Chão, east of the mouth of the Rio Tapajós with the Rio Solimoes. But Josias insisted that we first go to Zoofit, the Jardin Zoológico de Santarem. And there, in a cage, we saw Mico argentatus! Luckily, some time later, we saw these Amazone marmosets also in the trees around us, more or less in the wild....

Zoofit was a well-kept garden with animals that seemed to be in a good condition. It looked better organized than the Quistococha in Iquitos (25-2-2010).

Left: La Condamins's "Golden Monkey" from the book of Neil Safier (see previous posts).

Right: We found Mico argentatus in the Zoofit of Santarem!

Left: Luckily, we saw the monkey also in the trees around us. Right: Mico argentatus in a cage.

A young manati, that would soon be freed into the river. La Condamine still thought that this was a big fish.

I was a littlebit disappointed: where was its red face? La Condamine wrote about the present given to him by the governor of Pará: "The monkey's tail, in contrast to a body whose skeen radiated like 'the color of the most beautiful blond hair' was of a dark and lustrous brown, almost black. But most impressive of all were the bright red tints with which his ears, his cheeks, and his muzzle were adorned, a vermilion so vibrant that one could hardly be persuaded that the color was natural." Our monkeys were not that red in the face. Did La Condamine exaggerate or is it a matter of age or diet? Perhaps Marc van Roosmalen can comment on it.

Then, finally, we drove the nice, new road to Alter do Chão, where we took a boat to the "Moro de Piroca", a hill sticking out of the savannah plain. We climbed the hill (100 m?) in the middle of the day, but it was worth the view! We heard a few birds, but no macacos......

In Alter do Chão we took a boat to a place close to the hill "Moro de Piroca" (see left panel).

On the top of the Moro de Piroca. Far in the distance (to the north) the brown water of the Rio Solimoes.

North-West: where the bluish-coloured Rio Tapajós flows into the Rio Solimoes.

In a fish restaurant in Alter do Chão with Josias and our guide Albert Boy.

5/3. Friday. In the morning a rain shower kept us in the hotel. But at 10 a.m. the sun was shining again and we can walk through this nice little town. We walk up a hill towards a Fortaleza. Although La Condamine mentions the Rio Tapajós, he does not mention the fort here. In a nearby museum we do not find much information about the fort. An old, almost blind man, who spoke well english and who said to have lived in this beautiful house before giving it away as a museum, had never heard about La Condamine & Maldonado. A wall painting in one of the rooms showed a brigant with sail, perhaps similar to the one La Condamine and Maldonado had sailed on?

Rain in Santarem.

In the museum: no information, but a nice painting of a brigant with sail.

At 2 p.m. we are at the airport Santarem-Fonseca, lying quite far west of town. The GPS gives position: S 2° 25' 29'', W 54° 47' 9'' and an altitude of 47 m. it was a well-organized, pleasant flight of 1.5 h. This time we were sitting above the wing. At the airport we met Alex Alfred, lawyer in Alter do Chão, but born and raised in the south of Brasil. According to him a completely different country with different people of German and Italian descent and ...múch cleaner! He brought us with a taxi to Hotel Soft.

From the airplane the Rio Solimoes: brown water everywhere.

La Condamine writes that his principal task is the construction of his map: "Il me fallut redoubler d'attention pour ne pas perdre le fil de mes routes dans ce dédale tortueux d'iles et de caneaux sans nombre".

View on Belém from our Hotel SOFT, 13th floor.

From Manaus to Santarem

2010-03-06T15:02:00.000-08:00

A little street in Manaus just behind the port.

Writing my blog in a cool room and at a good table!

1/3. Monday. GPS position Manaus: S 3° 8' 21'', W 60° 1'36'' and altitude 4 m.

Our "Best Western" hotel lies close to the old, run-down Hotel "Premier" were we stayed two years ago. Walking to the same port where we then arrived by boat from Tabatinga, we find an office selling lancha-passages to Santarem. Although the lancha only leaves next day, we could already go aboard and sleep that night on the boat.

How much cleaner and better organized does this quay now look! Only the market and the dirty little streets where they sell tons of watches and mobile phones have remained the same. It is a hot day, but we can stay in our cool room with WiFi until 2 p.m.; then we bring our backpacks to the boat into a camerote and leave again to eat a pizza and have a beer....

Left: At the site where we arrived two years ago on an old, crowded quay there has now appeared a nice terminal hall, well-guarded and clean.

Right: maximal water levels. The years 2001, 2003, 2005 and 2007 give average levels. 2009 was a maximum. At the beginning of this rain season the level still seems rather low.

The lancha "Luiz Afonso" finally comes back....

When we came back from the terminal restaurant our boat, the "Luiz Afonso", had left. It was fetching cargo on some other place. After two hours of uncertainty, it was 8 p.m. when the lancha finally came back in the dark.

Our camerote has an airco, but when this was switched off at 12 p.m. a hot night followed without a single breeze. Orion is right above us. We realize that at their time, La Condamine and Maldonado didn't have an airco and must have experienced many of such hot nights.

A skiff! The first rowing boat we have seen so far.

2/3. Tuesday. In the early morning Hilbert, who slept in a hammock on the lower deck, wakes me up: a skiff in the harbor of Manaus! How is that possible with all the rapid boats criss-crossing everywhere at full speed?

Then, close to our lancha we see dolfins. What are they doing in this dirty water? At 9 a.m. the lancha takes off; but only to go to another quay in the old, crowded part of the harbor. There, many more people come on board and the lower deck slowly fills up with hammocks. These are other people than in Sarameriza, towns people and less friendly. To my surprise I find the upper deck almost empty. There we meet Pontus and Raquel, the only other tourists on board with whom we can speak english (and try out our spanish...). He is a translator (from Barcelona) and she a journalist (from Florianapolis). They will go to Alter do Chao, east of Santarem.

Unexpectedly, the lower deck completely fills up.

Raquel and Pontus, the only other tourists on board.

Finally, at 3 p.m. we leave the harbor of Manaus.

On the upper deck few people had placed their hammocks. In the afternoon we find out why. The lancha enters a kind of small tornado: big waves, only rain to be seen and very strong winds that could easily have swept away a child! The people shelter behind the bar and except for a cap nothing was swept away. Soon we could dry up in a warm afternoon breeze. At 10 p.m. I see for the first time a bright sky with stars and a full moon. The Great Dipper stands "upside down", its tail pointing to Arcturus high up above the horizon. We already passed the mouth of the Rio Madera.

We leave the Rio Negro and enter the Rio Amazonas, here called Solimoes.

Rio Solimoes,now fully mixed with the Rio Negro, with an approaching storm.

3/3. in the early morning Hilbert has a present for me: a watch! He had bought it on the market in Manaus. Finally, I do no longer have to ask him ¿Qué hora es?. "Dank je wel, Hilbert!!".

Sometimes the river is full with large tree trunks, hundreds of trunks probably brought in by the Rio Madera. La Condamine already mentioned that this river is named "wood" because it contains so many trees felled by nature.

At 8 a.m. we arrive in Parentins (AM). Some people depart. Many sellers of bread, cakes and fruits come on board. Within 15 min we are on the Rio Solimoes again.

Short stops at Parentins and Obidos.

View on the narrow passage east of Obidos.

One of the passengers with a two-headed Eagle (like in the arms of Naarden) on his T-shirt, bought in Manaus.

Last toast with Raquel and Pontus: "buen viaje!".

At 12 a.m. we land at Juruti and at 3 p.m. at Obidos; very short stops. Finally at 9 p.m. we arrive at Santarem, where the police let us wait 1 h before we can land. But then, unexpectedly, everything proceeds very smoothly and well-organized. There are taxis waiting and no "chorros"! Soon we are driven through a deserted town to Hotel Barao Orla. There, at the entrance a long, slender person asked us whether we were dutch! It was Edwin Keizer, who worked in Brasil for Greenpeace, who spoke well portugese and who organized for us an english-speaking guide for the next day. He also gave us directions how to go to the "campinaranas" near Alter do Chao, where we hoped to see La Condamine's "Golden Monkey".

While waiting before moring in Santarem, a full moon rised above Santarem.

Edwin Keizer, sent by the "Amazonian heaven".

But we also talked about what he and Greenpeace were doing here. If I understood him well he was working as a geographer (remote sensing) for the Brasilian Greenpeace Organization. They were developing "agrocultural models" (?) that would be "better" in preserving Amazonia than those of the present Brasilian Governement. Their aim is to halt the destruction in what he called the "deforestation arc Rondonia-Mato Grosso-Para" and still make the people happy. We could have talked for hours about how to save our planet, but he had to leave very early in the morning for Mato Grosso. So, at midnight, we went to bed fully exhausted after a day of, again, diarrhea, caused by eating from a spoiled beefsteak in Manaus.....

Tabatinga-Manaus: flying over the Amazon

2010-03-05T05:34:00.000-08:00

On the Tabatinga airport with our plane of "Voetrip".

28/2. Sunday. In the morning a girl, Jessica, from the hotel appeared to speak a littlebit english and portugese. She had been able to take lessons in a school for which she did not have to pay. So, we got our first lesson in portugese: "Até logo, Jessica; obrigado!". That girl will make it, I thought!

For the second time we have breakfast in the Leticia restaurant with Alejandro and Jose. Then they bring us to the hot Tabatinga airport where we took a flight with "Voetrip" to Manaus: 1150 km in 2.5 h. Two years ago it took us more than 3 full days by boat (see Blog 2007). Then we only saw the river borders. Now we could see what lied behind those borders: woods, marshes and rivers.

A few minutes after departure: trees, trees, trees.

Looking back on Tabatinga/Leticia and the Rio Amazonas.

In the middle of the woods: a Petro-Station?

Spread-out in the woods, grey spots indicate trees without leaves. They or not dead, but just decided that it was winter.

Strange, yellow lakes: plants or algae?

After some 20 min: Probably the Rio Putumayo near Tacuma.

After 1 h flight. Left: unknown rivers and marshlands. Right: The Rio Amazonas.

How could they ever make a map of such rivers without flying over them?

After 1.5 h: This must be the Rio Japura at some 600 km from Tabatinga.

We are close to Manaus after 1150 km: the Rio Negro with narrow beaches.

Iquitos and Leticia

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Floating houses in Iquitos-Belén.

24/2. Wednesday. This day we enjoyed the luxus of Hotel El Dorado, while recovering from our "Lancha"-diarhea. We made plans with Alfredo Chavez, an ornithologist, who could bring us at 5 o'clock next morning to a place for watching birds....

Hotel El Dorado.

25/2. Thursday. At 5 o'clock we are waiting in the hotel, it is still dark. Towards 6 o'clock Alfredo finally shows up with a mototaxi. It is full daylight and already very warm. We visit a piece of land where a shaman is living under very poor conditions. We see his hut where the "ceremonies" are carried out with the help of the hallucigenic leaves of the Ayahuasca (Vanistiropis?) plants growing here everywhere. His little son leads the way. We see a Blue-Gray Tanager, but that is all; many flowers and fruits, a brown frog and a centipede. On the way back we visit the well-known parc Quistococha, where we see many animals from the jungle in captivity and not always looking healthy.

Walking through the jungle: its hot and humid and we are still in a bad condition....

A "walking palm" in la selva, the jungle, always intruiging. A centipede of about 8 cm.

In Iquitos there are hardly automobiles. Our hotel has a nice bus for tourists, but we were happy that we choose Alfredo with his mototaxi.

The streets of Iquitos filled with mototaxis and a friendly, little boy in town.

26/2. Friday. At 5 o'clock again we leave the hotel to take a Golfiño, a rapid boat that will bring us in some 9 hours to Santa Rosa, near Leticia/Tabatinga. We leave at 6:30 a.m. with some 20 people at 70 km/h. Every 15 min or so the boat has to stop because of some garbage in the propeller....; not surprising!

We enjoy the familiar river-image: on both sides the green borders with a brownish, earthen dam of ~1.5 m, in front waterplants and behind low woods with isolated, higher trees often with white trunks. Once in a while banana-trees, a little house, some smoke. There are very few other boats to be seen. Once we pass a big boat loaded with tree trunks slowly going upstream. The service in the boat is almost like in an airplane, the food is good.

After 3 h we pass Pebas at the mouth of the Rio Napo. According to La Condamine this was the last of the Spanish missions. Two and a half hour later we stop and moor at San Paulo or Saint-Paul, the first of the Portugeese missions. It took La Condamine 3 days and 3 nights from Pebas to San Paulo!

Our boat ("deslisador") is sometimes in the middle of the river, then again at one of the borders. It is avoiding the large trunks floating everywhere in the stream. The raft of La Condamine folowed the river border with the risk that a tree trunk would suddenly fall down.

One of the many rain storms we encountered. - San Paulo (Saint-Paul).

San Paulo is still a leprosy village, like in the time of Che Guevara (1953), who came here to help.

From there on, La Condamine travelled in bigger boats ("brigantes") driven by 40 rowers (!) and a sail. We have never seen a rowing boat nor a sail.

We met one of the passengers of the boat, Nixon, who worked for Petro-Peru in the jungle. He found the work "bastante complicado". He said that he would ask his brother, who was a guide in Leticia and who would pick him up in Santa Rosa, to help us. So, when we arrived at 3 p.m. in Santa Rosa, we were led without difficulties to the emigration and police offices and then, with a peque-peque we left Peru and arrived in Tabatinga (Brasil) at the other side of the river. Nixon then brought us to Hotel La Frontera, at the (open) border with Colombia, where we called Alejandro Jaramillo. It was a cordial meeting-again, also with Jose, who now had a new car!

Breakfast in Leticia with Alejandro and Jose.

27/2. Saturday. This was a day of organizing our trip. We called Marc van Roosmalen in Manaus and learned that he would not be in town before March 10. We went to the banc (pesos, reales or dollars?), to the emigration service, to the Fundacion Gaia Amazonas for which Alejandro is working and had dinner (ajiaco bogotana!) in the house of Alejandro and Marthamiamor. After dinner we made a walk to the Rio Amazonas, where very poor people lived. It was too hot for us, but children played, mothers were feeding their babies and men were reparing their wooden houses that would soon become (almost) flooded again.

In the evening, like two years ago, we ate fish in the Libaneese restaurant, where we gave balloons of the globe to the boys of Jose.

Jose's family with Maria and two sons.

The route of La Condamine and Maldonado depicted on the globe in the Lebaneese restaurant.

La Lancha and arrival Iquitos

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New passengers are brought in with a "peque-peque"

23/2. Tuesday. At 1 o'clock p.m. we pass the mouth of the Rio Sameria. Position S 4° 38' 39'' W 74° 17' 19'' and altitude 133 m. With great dexterity and almost unnoticed hot plates with our lunch are "served" through the maize of hammocks. The monkey Pehpeh is continuously twittering or crying. We are not allowed anymore to give it something. The children, all very nicely dressed, eat their meal with a spoon, sitiing with two in a hammock or on the iron floor. All garbage (plastic bottles and sacks) is thrown in the river.

Meal on the floor under my hammock.

A.t 3 p.m. we pass the mouth of the Rio Tigre. Position S 4° 28' 33'' E 74° 4' 38'' and altitude 120 m. At 8 p.m. we arrive in Nauta. From here many passengers take a taxi to Iquitos. We will stay on the boat together with the "Borja-boys". We cordially say goodbye to Juan-Carlos and the Adventist, stll laughing "Es hermano...".

Unforseen and unexpected experiences

One surprise of our trip so far is that there remains so little time for writing or drawing, that there are few opportunities for reflections or watching birds, that we are often só tired (because of the diarhea that already had struck Hilbert, but now on the lancha also me?) and that there is never a chair where one can sit at a table. Even when passing the Pongo de Manseriche, La Condamine pictured himself on the raft sitting at a table....(see the 1751-etch in a previous post).

Dangerous hygienic conditions....

Left: The open kitchen bordered by the toilets. Right: One of the water closets; not to be seen is the tap

on the low plafond, serving as shower and deadly for longer persons standing up in the dark...

Many people on deck are coughing, sneezing and spitting all the time. Handkerchiefs (pañuelos) are not used. And then there is the hygienic condition of kitchen and water closets: The kitchen is open and borded by four terribly dirty closets that also serve as shower. The shower is represented by a tap that could be mortal for longuer persons. There are no lights, but enough, brown river water. How is it possible that both men and women emerge from these pig kennels looking refreshed and nice? For me it was reviving the experiences in Java some 66 years ago....

Already at 4:30 a.m. we arrive in Iqutos. When it becomes light the boat is unloaded. Many people go on and off the boat. Cesar told us to stay on board because there are many "chorros" (robbers). Waiting in our hammocks on the now almost empty upper deck, some 8 young men (those who had helped unloading the boat?) came standing on the rear deck and looking curiously at us, gringo's. We thought that they were waiting for new cargo to be brought in there. When Hilbert went to our Camerote on the lower deck, they had suddenly disappeared. I didn't suspect anything. But when I also went to our cabin Hilbert told me that they had robbed him when going down the iron stair. We lost "our pot" with some 100 Soles. After this experience I decided to give the box of Washurú to Cesar. He would call Washurú's son and deliver the box to him. When I called the son later, all seemed to be okay. Cesar brought the boat to another place where we went safely through a police control from where we took a mototaxi to Hotel El Dorado: A larger change from poor conditions to luxus is hardly possible.

From Sarameriza to Iquítos

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21/2. Sunday. Somber weather, but no rain. Washurú has prepared a large box and asked me to bring it to his son in Iquitos. His son speaks well english and could help us there further. The well-taped box only contained cloths, "ropa". Of course, I immediately promised him to do so, but was it wise....?

Our lancha "Monica Medina". Most other lancha's we saw looked somewhat better.

At 6 o'clock we walk to the boat where cows and pigs were still being embarked. We put our luggage and the box in our "Camerote#1" and say cordially goodbye to Washurú, who introduced us to César, the owner of the boat whom he asked to take good care of us.

We hang our hammocks on the upper deck in the back where there was still much space. When it became clear that the boat would not leave before 8 I walked back to buy some bred.

In the street I met again Washurú who brought me to the bakery, where he asked the owner to show me the oven. We had to wait for a new batch of the small breds. When they finally came the village people were first served in spite of the urges of Washurú: 24 small breds for 3 Soles (~$1.=).

The oven of the bakery of Sarameriza and the small breds that still have to become baked.

Back on the boat we measured the position of Sarameriza: S 4° 34' 2'', W 77° 24' 55''.

And then, indeed, we leave without much fuss or waving the muddy place at 8 o'clock. The Cerro de Campanquiz slowly disappears behind us in the clouds.

The whole village is waiting for the lancha to load their heavy cargo.

Almost every half hour the boat stops at one of the borders of the Rio Marañon; then it becomes humid and war. People are waiting with huge bunches of platanas (bananas) or heavy sacks with mais (corn). Sometimes a whole village is standing there, watching how their stronguest, young men carry these 70 kg(?)-bags on bare feat into the boat. Also animals, this time a bull and sheep, are brought in; pulled and pushed down the muddy slope and up over narrow planks into the boat, where they are all put together into one box on the front deck. Hilbert saw how part of the ears of pigs were cut off in order to distiguish them from those already present....Ultimately, the box will contain 3 cows, some 20 chanchos (pigs) and 9 obejas (sheep). In this crowd a male obeja immediately starts to fulfill his biological task.....Is this the way we treated our slaves some 150 years ago? This is not a tourist boat and members of the dutch "Party for the Animals" should not come here. This is a working boat where the people hope to earn some Soles.

Was this the way we treated our slaves some 150 years ago?

One of the passengers on our upper deck carries a baby monkey with him. Watching from my hammock its behavior during the long day made me wonder why it took me so many years to discard the idea that there is a fundamental difference between man and animal: of course, there are differences, but will the neurobiologists be able to find a fundamental one?
La Condamine drew a seemingly similar conclusion (p. 62 of Voyage sur l'Amazone): "...l'homme abandonné à la simple nature, privé d'éducation et de société, differe peu de la bête.", but this applied to the Indian rather than to himself.

The baby monkey is a "Chorro", not a Makisapa (baboon) as I first thought. It likes very much the sweet, cotton-like inside tissue around the seeds of the long guava fruits.

Pehpeh, the baby choro, sometimes cried when hungry or thirsty.

Edgar (12 yrs), whom we had met in the village and who had helped me carrying the box into the boat, came shyly up from the lower deck, where most indigenes or mestizos were lying in their hammocks. I asked him to draw his house, but I first had to draw my own... The children are clearly hungry. Another passenger, Juan Carlos (who had searched me in the village when I was buying bred because it was becoming late), gave them some of his little breds (ours were down in the camerote).

The drawing made by Edgar of his house somewhere near Sarameriza: a cacao-tree?

Only in the second half of the day we encountered three times a "Chaloupa", which can transport some passengers and contains a little roof (carapa). One is called "Transporto Marona". We had just passed the mouth of the Rio Marona. Perhaps we could have continued our journey on such boats. But we should have been able to speak better spanish and we would have needed mány more helpful Washurú's...... We were told that there were only two boats like ours ("lancha's") connecting Sarameriza with San Lorenzo.

A "Chaloupa" boat with carapa. Such a boat (without the motor) La Condamine may have used.

Around 3 o'clock we pass Punto America, with a large sign giving its position: S 4° 43' 57'' and W 77° 3' 50''. Our GPS gives: S 4° 44' 38'' and W 77° 3' 45'' and an altitude of 149 m. We pass other villages. Now and then a strong wind is coming up. Sometimes dark clouds pack above us. We enjoy a beautiful evening sun set.

View from our hammock; here time passes quickly.

It is already dark when we arrive in San Lorenzo, capital of the Provincia de Datem de Marañon (?). Its position is: S 4° 49' 54'' W 76° 33' 22'' and an altitude of 136 m. Here we will stay for the night. Edgar and his brother come to say farewell. We give them a coloured ballpoint and a compass. Edgar waves many times back before disappearing in the small crowd leaving the lancha.

Edgar and his little brother. A shy friend came to say goodbye.

22/2. Monday, the second day on the lancha. It is 5:30 h when we are woken up by the crowing of the many cocks in their little baskets tied on the floor. Slowly new passengers enter the boat. Also our deck is becoming full. Without any words or comments, new hammocks are being tied up in places where there seemed not space. The trick is that you can hang them alternatively high or low! Next to Hilbert comes an ever-laughing 7th-day Adventist: "Ah, mi hermano..ha, ha, ha.". The owner of Pehpeh comes in completely drunk; he will sleep the whole day. We finally depart with full decks at 9:15 h.

This second day on the lancha our deck has become completely filled up with hammocks.

We pass the mouth of the Rio Pastazza. Maldonado came down this river from Quito (he met La Condamine in Lagunas, where our boat will not come) without Morainville, who apparently died on the way.
Our lancha continues to make stops for new cargo. How many sacks and pigs can still be loaded? Now, at the stops, village people come on the boat selling fruits. At 2 p.m. we go through a tropical rain shower. One hour later it is dry again. I hear the Adventist preaching, telling his neighbour that the Catholics have wrong ideas. Juan-Carlos joins the discussion. Luckily, my spanish is insufficient to do the same. We meet Cyro Schmidt-Schüler from Lima, working for a wood company in Iquitos. He can only say "scheisse" and he knows that the dutch have strong mariuana....
At 7 p.m. it is dark again and we enter a new rainstorm. We have to pull our hammocks up higher; everybody is helping others. How does the boat find its way in this pitch darkness? It appears they only have a strong lamp. Via the radio they here where new cargo is waiting.

New cargo from whole villages or a solitary house.

Every now and then we enter a rain shower.

23/2. Tuesday. 5:30 h. We pass Miraflores. Position: S 4° 40' 25'' W 74° 50' 11' and altitude 130 m. Again, we make many stops. It becomes warm. Juan Carlos entertains us by giving Kun-foe lessons. Everybody is very impressed.
At one stop a large family has come in and find still place around us. We give Marcial Vela Tulumba, a young boy from Borja and his brother Ramón, a balloon. It costs him great trouble to blow it up.

We give a balloon to the two brothers of Borja, who helped us several times with displacing

our hammocks and who were happy to get our meals. Right: depicting the route of La Condamine and Maldonado

on the globe.

Left: Cesar, the owner of the boat, whom I told about our journey, sticks our folder on the wall of his bar.

Right: a proud father with his son. Although, on this upper deck, a railing is lacking on the back, these children

freely walk around.....