Off to Suriname with Herman Jiesamfoek

The many weeks of touring to New York City and Washington, DC were coming to an end. I was looking forward to having a shift away from the dramatic, intense, and overwhelming experiences of the tour. I was looking forward to a new adventure filled with going to Suriname and dancing as a guest artist with Herman.
I knew that so much had happened and I felt a bit shell-shocked from the trip to America with the Berlin Ballet.
I did not realize that I was going to have to process this complex event (that had happened) for years before finally being able to understand the larger picture.
Wisdom comes in its own time and in its own way. And such things cannot be rushed. Because we are not ready.
I have attempted throughout my life to look past the obvious and into the more subtle energies that are the instigators of such drastic times in our lives.
I had already noticed at the ripe age of 20 that such patterns come in waves. I thought this wave was over.
But I would soon discover … otherwise.
I am grateful for my odd brain that seems to remember words, tones, rhythms, sounds, flows, movements, and events in ways that others do not seem to.
I can create snapshots in sound and image in my brain and then can retrieve them when I need to. And they arise … as if the person is standing right in front of me, speaking the words. The memory is very alive when it is flowing.
I have spent this life working almost constantly on fear.
I learned that fear was almost always between me and what I wanted or what I dreamed to become.
I learned at a young age that if I listened to that fear that this life would be a waste … and I was not willing to have that as my outcome or legacy.
But at this particular time in my life, the fear was close to the surface. Because of its constant companionship, I was attempting to learn to walk with it, notice it, hear the words that it whispered into my soul, but to not heed to its every suggestion.
When I was meditating in my late teens, I remember the angels saying, “Fear is the energy that tears down dreams.” And that if they could get me through fear … then they could get anyone through fear.
That meant to me that I was living in a constant state of fear and that fear kept trying to “inter-fear” in all my actions and choices.
Even then I understood that a large chunk of that fear I had energetically, genetically, and karmically inherited from my mother.
I love my mother dearly, but she lived her entire life in a constant state of fear and anxiety. It was the root of all her depression, and she showed me how paralyzing fear can be. Her fear was so strong that she was terrified of anything new and different.
From a young age, I vowed to do it differently.
I believe that being in our mother’s womb is the beginning of the karmic programing that we signed up for in this life. And as a child, it was clear to me that I did feel some of that fear that she felt.
I did notice that I had some dysfunctional patterns of attachment that were clearly something that I would have to work through in this life.
I did not allow my mother into my ballet world.
Ballet was my emotional safe space.
It was the place where my feelings mattered and could be expressed in healthy ways.
In my home, my mother’s needs, issues, and fears were the dominating and demanding force.
Becoming characters in a ballet allowed me to channel deep and dark emotions through my body on a stage where it was safe and when I was done, I got recognition and applause for those expressions.
But this trip to New York City and Washington, DC had brought a lot of real fears into real life. Those fears were playing out on a bigger stage and there was no orchestra pit between me and the intensity of the real world that now felt as if it was crowding in.
Finally, the last night of performances end … and Herman and I are going to go to Suriname the following day.
That is when we hear on the news … that there has been a military takeover in Suriname.
I am alarmed but also not quite sure what that all means.
Herman explained that such things happen all the time in certain South American countries. He was used to it. To him it was no big deal. He felt that we would have to get there and figure it out as we went along. He was not in any way alarmed.
Besides, first we were going to visit his sister in Aruba in the Caribbean. It sounded like a vacation and heaven after the difficult and emotional tour we had been on.
So the next day, we took a short flight from Washington, DC to Miami. Then we were to change planes and then be off to Aruba.
There really is a weird thing about those that we are connected to. We are magnetically drawn to each other in ways that are shocking, surprising, and astounding.
We get off the plane and we are walking around the airport when we see this huge crowd mulling about.
At the center of that crowd was the great star of ballet, Rudolf Nureyev.
He was looking exhausted and not in the best of moods. He is trying to be kind and sign autographs, but you can see that he would like to be left alone.
We smile and wave at him over the heads of the crowd.
Instantly he sees us, and with great relief on his face he says to everyone, “Oh, there are my friends that I am meeting. I have to go now. You have all been very kind. But I have to go. Thank you! Thank You!”
As he signs a few more autographs and then tries to extricate himself from the mob and quickly moves towards us.
He puts himself in the middle of us (as shields) and quickly walks us away from the crowd.
He says, “Oh thank God, you both showed up, I could not get away. Let’s go eat. If I am with you, then often other people will bother me less.”
We go to a restaurant and try to find a corner to hide in. As he sits down, with his back to the people in the airport, he breathes a sign of relief.
He says, “Thank you for rescuing me. Lunch is on me. Order anything you want. My show of appreciation.”
So we have lunch with Rudi, and he goes on about one thing or another. He seems distracted but does ask why we are here in Miami.
We told him about the guesting in Suriname and he nodded with approval. He was off to have a vacation in the Caribbean. I can’t remember where he was going only that it was not an island I had heard about. It figured that he was going to a safe space … to not be bothered. Such a place probably had to be exclusive or very private.
He talked about crowds and how people just could not let him be.
That is when I had to chime in, “But Rudi, you stand out in a huge way in your green alligator skin pants, jacket, and matching hat!”
He laughed saying, “But I have an image to keep up. Such things are important. People expect the exotic from me.”
I laughed and said, “You are an exotic whether you are in a green alligator skinned outfit or not!”
He smiled and said, “Of course I am!”
Eventually, we had to leave but the crowds had thinned and we walked him to his gate and then went to our own.
We get to Aruba and it is beautiful. Herman’s sister greets us warmly at the airport. He sister is very beautiful and I could see the family resemblance. She was married and lived just outside of town.
When we get there, she says that they are having a really bad mosquito problem and to be aware and to wear mosquito repellent.
We get some and realize that we will need it also for Suriname and we also get extra sunscreen.
I cover myself with bug spray because mosquitos just love me. I am evidently very sweet!
We tour around that day and have a lovely time. Aruba is beautiful. We have a few days here before we go to Suriname. Everyone is watching the news about the military take over there and it is not looking good.
That night we go to sleep, and I am so tired I fall asleep instantly.
In the morning I wake up and go over to the single bathroom in the house before everyone else is awake. I turn on the light to wash my face.
I look in the mirror and I am horrified! I look like a leper. My face is covered in mosquito bites. Then I take a look at my body, and I am covered in them. Just on my legs alone I have over 80 mosquito bites. And they are just starting to itch. UGH!
The rest of the trip there, I refused to let anyone take pictures of me because I looked like I had hives all over my body.
In my mind I think … “This is not starting out well.”

The day we are to leave, we hear that all the phone lines into the country have been cut and we cannot call his parents or connect to the people that are bringing us to guest for the performance.
Then we discover that all flights have been cancelled into Suriname.
Except a cargo flight that has room for us but there are only 5 seats and three are taken. There are only two left.
And that flight is leaving in an hour.
We quickly get ready to leave and I ask Herman, if this is a safe thing to be doing. Shouldn’t we be checking with the American embassy first and let them know that we are going into the country?
But Herman says once again, “These things happen a lot. I don’t want to miss these shows as I had promised the company that we arere coming.”
I bow to his experience in his own country. After all, what do I know about such things. But I can’t shake this bad feeling. Finally, we leave for the airport.
Once we get there, we hear that this is the last cargo flight allowed into the country for the next two weeks at least.
While that is a bit more concerning, Herman is set to go. And I understand that this is his gift back to his original ballet teachers and he wants to help and inspire other young dancers.
We go to board the plane and it is this huge plane. Filled to the brim with supplies that are all in crates and locked down for the flight.
Just behind the pilots there are these 5 seats. Three are filled with a Dutch Family and then there is us.
The Dutch family is very nice, and we all strap in and start flying into the Amazonian jungles of Suriname.
The capital and only airport is in Paramaribo. And the flight is so very loud as it is a cargo plane.
On such a flight, talking was more like yelling. Being heard was extremely difficult. Eventually, we all just got quiet and gave up trying to have a conversation.
When we land in Suriname it is 10 pm at night. It is pitch dark in the jungle. We are clearly landing in the jungle and there are minimal lights, even on the runway.
There is a feeling of foreboding once we are on the ground. The huge doors open, and we walk out.
Instantly, we are surrounded by about 150 men with army uniforms and submachine guns pointed at us.
I freeze, startled out of feeling sleepy. I am suddenly, wide awake and uncertain as to what to do.
That is when Herman started yelling in the native language of modified Dutch, and I heard the safety catches go off on all those guns.
I look at the young man that is closest to me with a gun pointed at my head, and I realize that he can’t be more than 14 years old.
What concerns me more is that I can feel him. I can feel his hate for me! I don’t even know this young man and I can feel that he wants to shoot me.
In that moment I hear a voice in my head say clearly, “Don’t move and you will be fine. Don’t make any sudden movements!”
Then I actually see a bubble of light go around Herman and myself but also the Dutch family of three.
Herman is now yelling and there is a big discussion going on that I cannot understand for language reasons but also sheer terror.
I quietly ask Herman to calm down and to stop yelling in such an aggravating way.
He is standing at his full height, his jaw is set and firm. His eyes are flaring and bright with righteous indignation and he says to me, “Suzanne they are saying that there is a curfew and that we will have to stay here all night until the morning and that is unacceptable!”
I respond, “So what if we have to stay overnight here. That is not a big deal. I am okay with that!”
Then he looks at me in a way that I had never seen him look at me before and he says, “I have to get us a pass to leave because when this Lieutenant Colonel goes to sleep, I cannot protect you from all these men. Do you understand! I have to get you out of here now … tonight! This is not a safe place. Things here are worse than I anticipated. But my parents live in the jungle and once I get you out of here … that is where we are going. I am not going to stop arguing with this Lieutenant Colonel until he gives me a pass because once he falls asleep, we are in real danger. Most of these men and boys only have a 5-grade education. They cannot be reasoned with. Do you understand me?”
Suddenly, I do understand! And the fear rises up in me from a primal place that I had never felt before.
I said to him, “Argue all you want!”
They start ransacking through our suitcases. And we are having to explain, points shoes, and tutus to men with a very limited education.
For the first time in my life, I felt like the outsider.
I was instantly disliked by these men for the color of my skin, and my nationality. I was someone that they did not trust.
I suddenly understood what people of color must be feeling in our country. The tables had turned and now I was the outsider, and I was the person under suspicion.
Eventually we did get the pass and they ordered a car for all of us to get out of there.
As I get into the front seat to be in the middle with the driver on the left and Herman on my right, Herman says to me, “If that driver touches you in any inappropriate way, you let me know!”
I nod in agreement.
We drop the Dutch family off first but as we are moving towards town, we suddenly realize that roads are barricaded and blocked. Armed men are everywhere. Things are extremely tense, and we are constantly being stopped and our papers are being checked.
Herman says to me, “I have a hotel room for you reserved but I do not think it is safe for you to be there, so we are going to my parents’ house at the edge of the jungle. We will be safer there but there are not enough beds so be prepared to sleep on the sofa. Okay?”
I say, “No problem!”
We finally get to his parents’ house very late. His parents wake up to us being the surprise on their doorstep.
His mother is thrilled to see me and is gushing all over me.
It is clear that she thinks I am Herman’s girlfriend, and she is beyond happy.
I turn to Herman and say, “What is going on?”
He rolls his eyes and says that she hopes that I am his girlfriend, and she wants to give us their bed to sleep in tonight.
I say to him, “She knows you are gay … Right?”
He smiles and says, “Yes! She knows but she has not given up hope of turning me around!”
I smiled and said, “Tell her that we can sleep in the living room on the sofas. That will be fine. I don’t really want to further their fantasy by sleeping in their bed.”
He agreed and told her.
We set up the sofas as our bedroom to the sounds of the jungle filtering in through the windows that are not glass but like giant venetian blinds made out of wood. The air was thick with humidity and the smells of rotting foliage in the dense jungle. The smells were pungent and sweet all at the same time. The calls of strange creatures that hunt in the night seemed so very close.
I could feel that this was going to be the beginning of another amazing journey.
~Suzanne Wagner~