In and out of Suriname

And, although I was born in Suriname, I am Dutch. So I stay out of it.

It was time to move and leave her place behind. When something is done, it is done. No more lemons, just more sweet lemonade. It follows the same pattern as when she left Suriname. After her migration to the Netherlands, my grandmother stopped wasting her time worrying about the political situation in Suriname. This does not mean the umbilical cord between her and Suriname was cut. She has a son living there, family, and friends. Even here in this living room Suriname is all around us: the bauxite, the woodcarvings, the kotomisi dolls, her photos.

Whenever my grandmother returns from her holiday in Suriname (last time was in the winter of 2019), she brings back with her Surinamese culture in the form of things. Some are edible, such as mangos and antroewa, but also souvenirs that have Suriname written all over it, often quite literally. This penholder and the (made in China) alarm clock were, for example, gifted to me. She wants to share her love for her heritage.

But things also go in the other direction. During the three months of sorting and packing, my grandmother stuffed 8 big boxes full of things (1300 liters in total). The biggest and tiniest things were shipped to Suriname: nail clippers, an axe, toothbrushes, Tupperware, pencils, vintage postcards, mugs, shoes. You name it, she has sent it. These were not only the things that she did not need to move with her, but also things that she had accumulated for the very purpose of sending them to Suriname. Surinamese in the Netherlands who feed things to Suriname are almost part of a tradition, all through an umbilical cord that was never truly cut.

Three months of packing went by. It was time to move. Thousands of things lighter, but still with tons of things with her.