Wilma and the trip out of Brazil
Anyone who tells me that Brazil is a small country can go and treat themselves with a stick of dodo in their dada. Well, no one has told me that though. Literally every one I have talked to told me I'm crazy to even consider flying these legs over Brazil without an autopilot. I tend to agree. But all of that is behind me now.. We have now landed on a drag strip not far from Johan Adolf Pengel International Airport in Suriname. It's close to Owos Ontspannings Oord. (OwO !! this is a sign) A swimming Facility in Powakka that Wilma has been talking about since we left French Guyana.
Oh, I should perhaps mention Wilma.. She's the little red haired woman that stared at me in that bar in Macapa. The stare had become more and more intense but she never faced me completely. It was as if she wanted to hide her stare behind her hair facing the plate on her table. But her inferno of a gaze constantly locked at me without even once giving the impression of blinking. I was scared. I had never been in a situation like this before. Night after night she stared. George had vanished to some jungle resort outside of the city and didn't even say goodbye when he seated himself in the back of a taxi while clenching his mysterious package. I was alone with this situation and I was constantly uncomfortably hot and had given up showering days ago. It didn't make sense to do so in this climate.
One evening I drank up the courage to confront this miniature beast of a woman. I had difficulties reaching the equilibrium between enough courage and basically passing out. I was prepared for the worst. As I approached her she kept eye contact with me. It got so intense on my way over to her table that time literally stopped and every person in the vicinity of Macapa gained two minutes of their lives to contemplate over the meaning of existence. The effects of this added time frame in this region is yet to be known. When I finally reached her table, still locked in to the most fierce eye contact contest of the history of mankind, I uttered a whimpering "Hey there.. ehrm..." I cleared my throat. I wasn't prepared after all. "Hey, I can't help but notice..." I stopped in my words. She turned her head towards me and our eye contact was broken. Wait... what?
I went from one twilight zone and was immediately dropped in to a completely different one. This new twilight zone was not much better but it was at least a new situation filled with embarrassment and cringyness in stead of one filled with intense fear. When I saw the front of her face for the first time I was struck by the vastness between the irises in her eyes. It's almost as if the rest of her face just became blurry around this single odd feature her face displayed. Like a hammerhead shark or that weird dude from that Ice cartoon. She was incredibly cockeyed... She had the most cockeyed eyes I had ever seen. Not only were her eyes far apart from each other but it was as if her eyes had just signed divorce papers and were dealing with the final settlement before finally never having to be in each others presence ever again. And then it dawned for me... She had never looked at me. She just could not see straight at all and her right eye had given me the impression of the intense stare. She was obviously oblivious to my situation. "What?" Her voice was as undefined as her face. To be honest I don't remember how I managed to row this one in. My courage binge drinking was red lining and I have no idea how our conversation went. Two days later I woke up in my own bed with a contract lying on the foot end of it that Wilma and I had signed. I was to take Wilma to Curacao. She paid well too. This could get interesting..
George turned up to the Aircraft just in time for our departure. He was not pleased with being placed in the back but did not pick up a fight with Wilma for the front seat... One thing was her face which was just weird to look at over longer periods of time. But her voice was of the kind that just gets blurry and hard to follow along with after just a few sentences. Maybe it was the sheer volume of words she was able to release. A constant stream of words that quickly became background noise. Luckily I had a good headset where I could turn on some good podcasts and music.
The next days were relatively uneventful. When we landed I stayed by the plane and Wilma had her tent with her. George just vanished in to the jungle for the night and only emerged again for take off.
It's strange to have left Brazil, where I have spent the past two weeks to get from one side to the other and now I've already visited two countries in one day. We flew over French Guyana as if it didn't exist.. One stop for fuel and the country was just behind us.. I had plans to visit and check out the country, but it seemed so small and claustrophobic that I had already crossed the border to Surinam when I came to my senses. Wilma was apparently an eager drag racer and had to visit the local drag strip. So this is we are now. We'll probably reach Georgetown, Georges destination within a day or two.
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