Surinamese Christmas

This year we are celebrating Christmas Day at my uncle’s house. My little brother and I have prepared a quiz. The theme for the dinner is ‘Suriname’. This is because my uncle has made roti countless times over the past year and, in his words, has now perfected it. On Christmas morning we find out that Desi Bouterse has died. A Christmas miracle.

We arrive at the same time as my aunt and her family. My cousin is driving. He has difficulty parking while his mother panickily instructs him. Once inside, after greeting, the separation between the adults and the children takes place rather quickly, although everyone except my niece is of age. In the sitting area, we’re served bowls of bell pepper chips and pieces of boiled sausage. My cousin immediately asks how many and what kind of beer has been bought. He gets bottles for everyone and tells us about a fellow student who once got so drunk that he fell down the stairs.

The appetizer is chicken soup, presented by my uncle putting on a mediocre Surinamese accent. Before we go to the table, my cousin gets some more beers. His little brother empties his second bottle and tells me that he really doesn’t do anything to pass his classes and still makes it easily. My aunt calls him out: “Honey, this is already beer two!”

“Yes, I can count”, he responds.

The main course is roti as promised, as well as chicken thighs and a salad with banana. I play Surinamese Christmas music through a Bluetooth box. My cousin tells us about a fellow student who once was so drunk that he fell off his bicycle. Meanwhile, he intently inspects my little brother’s bottle of beer. He looks intensely confused.

“You’re not even halfway through your second one! I’ve already finished my third! How are you planning to survive university?!”

After one bite, my younger cousin stops eating roti, overwhelmed by how spicy it is and doesn’t touch it again. My uncle lists all the different kinds of roti he has made. My mother interrupts him, “Of course, you know how to make two recipes, and you think you can cook.” My uncle changes the subject by asking me if I have already brought home a nice girl.

“Or a boy, that’s possible too.”

After dinner, my little brother and I present the quiz. We find it a lot funnier than the participants. Especially the joke that my cousin only studies accountancy because he thought it would be like the movie The Accountant lands badly. Afterwards, we calculate the scores and announce the winners. My uncle asks if he can go over the answers to check the results.

On the way to the parking lot, my cousin tells us about a fellow student who was so drunk once that he got on the wrong train. As we drive away, we see their car struggling to get out of the parking space.