Sunday we got in our Jeep and took off to explore. Resorts are comfy and relaxing, but we wanted, as much as possible in a place so heavily reliant on its tourist infrastructure, to see what Aruba was like away from the tourist hotels, beaches and malls. Aruba, along with Bonaire and Curacao are part of the Netherlands Antilles. The population is very mixed, and Arawak, Dutch, Spanish and African heritage is clearly evident in many areas.
Dutch is the official language in Aruba, but Papiamento is most commonly heard. It’s a creole dialect made up of elements of Dutch, Spanish, English, French, Portuguese, a number of different African languages, and Arawak. In these examples you can see the different influences. I understand dushi being sweet (from dulce) but I’d really like to know how sushi came to mean garbage!
Bon dia: Good Morning
Bon Bini: Welcome
Danki: Thank you
Con ta bai: How are you?
Mi ta bon: I am fine
Pasa un bon dia: Have a good day
The temperature is always around 82F (28C), and there is very little rain. Aruba is outside the hurricane belt. The interior of the island is dry and desert-like, complete with cacti and iguanas, while the coasts are graced with beautiful beaches. The protected south and west coasts are calm and sandy, while the north and east are more rocky and rugged. Watapana or divi-divi trees are sculpted by constant trade winds.
South of the airport we passed through San Nicolas and Charlie’s Bar, in operation since the 1940s. The big red anchor at the entrance to Seroe Colorado has a plaque in Charlie’s memory. After a swim and a snack at the famous Baby Beach (with the Valero oil refinery in the background), we went off-road into Arikok National Park. The area is filled with trails and paths, rock outcroppings, caves, and encompasses each of the three geological features of the island: a lava formation, a quartz diorite formation and a limestone formation. We used our GPS to wander and locate several geocaches in the area, as well as the former site of the Natural Bridge (which fell in 2005).
One small sign led to the Tunnel of Love cave. Having heard about cave drawings and such in the area, we were interested, but it was deserted when we pulled up, until a rough-looking leathered man pedaled up on his bicycle holding a bottle of Sprite in one hand and a small plastic bag in the other. He led us over to what appeared to have been an entrance at some point in the past. There were no flashlight renters or fee takers to be seen, and the entire cave entrance was covered with a re-bar cage. Tough luck? Not with our hopeful guide shuffling over to a corner and peeling up a section of rusty metal to let us down. Even at the time it seemed like a risky decision to follow him down a hole into a cave that clearly had been closed for some reason, but we threw caution and common sense out and went for the experience. The guy, who spoke a muffled version of English/Papiamento was named Francisco, but he went by Joy, a name bestowed on him by doctors at a local hospital where he recovered miraculously from some accident or illness. He told us the cave was closed when some Dutch tourists had gone in alone and gotten lost. Once we started to descend, he pulled a rag (which must have been soaked in something that burns slowly) from his plastic bag, wrapped it around a stick, and lit it. Adding to the ambiance, throughout the walk, as if to keep up the conversation, Joy repeated, “Yabba dabba doo; Enjoy the cave. Yabba dabba doo. Enjoy the tour. Enjoy the cave.”
Well, the torch served its purpose, as Joy pointed out a drawing on the ceiling, rocks forming the shapes of animals and, of course, the Virgin Mary. Unlike many caves we’d been in, the temperature didn’t drop at all, but without the wind it was muggy and moist. The multitude of fruit bats, disturbed from their slumber, didn’t seem to mind the climate a bit. They swooped around our heads in groups of 10 or 20 at a time. After a bit more climbing, I asked Joy if we’d have to return the same way. He seemed to size us up and told us to keep following. Since no one had jumped out and ambushed us yet, we trustingly complied. Finally emerging into the light, Joy explained that if we climbed a pile of rocks and put one arm up through the small square of re-bar first, we’d be able to exit straight up. Miraculously, it worked. We happily paid Joy a generous tip, and wished him the best of luck.
The rest of the afternoon we bounced around in the jeep, stopping for a cold drink and visiting the Bushiribana Goldmine Ruins and Alto Vista Chapel. Our last stop of the day was the Ayo Rock Formation with huge boulders, mysteriously incongruous with the surrounding landscape.
