Chapter 5: Home Cooking

Capitan Juan treated me to dinner in Georgrtown, as he promised, but not as I expected. At his home, where I met his wife Marissa, his brother-in-law Duerte and their unmarried younger sister Clarissa.

Portuguese has a few similarities with Spanish, and it is spoken much more leisurely than Spanish. Like a southern drawl compared to a staccato New York rush of speech. Because of the slower pace, I can understand some of what’s said. Like the traditional welcome.

“Minha casa é sua casa” Very similar to “Mi casa es su casa.”

And “Bom dia” is similar to “Buen dia”. Lovely gracious people.

Everyone but Juan, speaks fair English, and of course, Juan and I can converse in Spanish. Whenever Portuguese was spoken, frequently amongst the siblings, someone hastened to interpret for me. For simplicity, the following conversations are recorded here in English.

“Was it a pleasant and relaxing trip for you, being towed behind Juan’s ship?” This from the beautiful enchanting Clarissa.

“Entirely too pleasant. Boring. The scenery never changed. The rump of Juan’s ship is over-exposed, scarred into my memory.”

Juan guffawed. The rest laughed more musically but no less heartily. The ice is broken, that never really existed. We are relaxed together.

“Your poor animals must miss you, só unfairly imprisoned. Do you miss them?”

This from Juan’s very pregnant wife Marissa. It’s really for her sake, I am being entertained at home rather than at a Boate, a nightclub.

“Yes, I miss their devotion to me, especially feeding time. They cluster about me like anxious children. I enjoy feeding them”

“Is it true you had a horse and a cow on board?” From Duerte. Juan winked conspiratorily at me. He has been telling tall tales about me.

“No horses other than charlie horses from over straining muscles. Though I almost had a cow, when Juan’s cook dumped galley slops off the stern and the garbage landed on my recently scrubbed decks.”

Sincere sympathy rather than laughter was the group’s response to this, intended as humorous anecdote. Frequently, my jokes fall flat.

“Share with us stories of your adventures. We are sedentary and never have adventures, except for Juan. We are interested in you.”

This from Duerte, but it’s Clarissa’s eyes that shine brightest.

“My earnest hope is my next adventure will overshadow all the previous ones. May I tell you my plans instead of my history?”

Telling about my murders would dampen the festivities, I suspect. My plans for the next adventure is something they all want to hear.

“What do you know about Atlantis? The detailed description of Atlantis Plato gave us. It is astounding if what I believe is true.”

I have their rapt attention. Their anticipation is almost palpable.

“Would you feel flattered, if I suggest, you are Atlanteans and that you live on the island of Atlantis?”

With that bombshell, I relax with my wine and wait for the roar of conversation to subside. Eventually, they calm down again.

“Can you substantiate such an outrageous claim, Luke? Or are we dining with a mad man?”

Duerte is more than skeptical, he is for some reason, offended. Why?

Oh, I think maybe I understand. This isn’t the culture of the United States, where colonialism is the ancient past and freedom won by a revolution hundreds of years ago.

Many of these nations, like Guyana and neighboring Suriname only acqired independence in the twentieth century. Bloody revolutions, rebellions, and coups followed until recent decades.

In Suriname 1986, a Maroon rebellion WAS led by Ronnie Brunswijk. After decades of exile in French Guiana, Ronnie Brunswijk was elected Vice President of Suriname in 2020.Many European descendents fled to Europe for safety.

Problems with teritorial claims by Maroons, descendents of runaway African slaves who melded with indigenous tribes, are current affairs and politically incendiary in Suriname, Guyana and French Guianna.

This family is descended from Europeans and are a tiny minority, in a precarious position. Massacre is a haunting posibility for them.

My suggesting South America was a great ancient empire long before, primarily Portugal and Spain, and to a lesser degree the other European nations conquered it, in some ways challenges their legitimacy. The room is chilled despite the tropical humid heat. I’m tiptoeing in a verbal mine-field and only myself to blame for putting my foot in it. Everyone is patiently waiting for my response to Duerte’s question, “Can I substantiate my claims?”

“If you mean by substantiate, PROVE, no one can, it’s impossible.”

The atmosphere relaxes a little, and I recieve small smiles, they’re embarassed for me. They want to like me, and silently encourage me, WILL me to extricate myself from my ill considered faux pas.

‘Most people consider Atlantis an ancient myth or legend. Do you know or have opimion on the difference between myth and legend?”

Gaining their participation, enticing them to interact, will be my salvation. The less I talk, the more they say, the more I pose questions for their responses, the less I sound like a naive lecturer.

“Myths aren’t real stories, just fantasies. Legends are myths about real historical figures, I think.” Clarissa is a smart girl. Everyone endorses Clarissa’s definitions.