I am standing in front of the largest wooden structure in the Caribbean, Latin America, the Western Hemisphere or the world, depending on whom you talk to.
Verifiable facts are that
I am standing in front of the largest wooden structure in the Caribbean, Latin America, the Western Hemisphere or the world, depending on whom you talk to.
Verifiable facts are that
Herons skim the water, their white bodies reflecting in the inky-black water smooth as glass. Green kingfishers nosedive from branches and resurface with a thrashing fish. Roseate spoonbills scratch around in shallow waters, and jacanas do what Jesus Birds do:
They walk on the water.
A teenager holds a baby caiman in her hands, a young boy feels its rough skin. There is nothing to fear as the reptile’s jaws have been tied for the occasion. We admire sweet water turtles, decipher dilapidated gravestones and buy dried shrimp.
The boat trip couldn’t be more varied.
You can travel. You can slow travel. You can stop for a while and stay in a place.
We’ve done all three and each has its charms.
Museums for children, or at least museums where kids are having just as a good time as adults are, may be common nowadays in the U.S. and (part of) Europe.
In South America, on the other hand, children’s museums are still pretty much an alien concept.
I sit on the landing stage. The moon glistens on the Suriname River and the rainforest across the river has become a black wall. Croaking frogs and chirping crickets penetrate the silence of the night.
I have traveled deep into the Surinamese rainforest.