The Tailor Of Paramaribo

My sister sent me a message announcing the temperature in Northwest Scotland is hovering around 50 degrees which was a warning or a reminder to get my Andean cold weather clothes in order. Thus I discovered my jeans have developed holes in the knees, fashionable but not warm. We needed a tailor. No not fried chicken. 

Paramaribo KFC Kwattaweg

We tried two different tailors and the first said her mom does repairs but she’s in China until the middle of November so that didn’t work. The next tailor on Google Map’s list was a pretty upscale establishment so I was embarrassed to wander in to a five star haberdashery with my road clothes, but they welcomed us anyway. 

I’m no one’s idea of a clothes horse but I wouldn’t mind a jacket like that in my life. Anyway their tailor couldn’t get my jeans done before the weekend so the lady at the store gave us another guy’s name. Mr Roman does alterations she said and gave us his number. We sent him a WhatsApp and got no reply. 

Now the story gets all Suriname weird but in a good way.  The lady from the store called Layne on WhatsApp and asked how it went. We told her we’d not heard back from Mr Roman. Oh she said he probably won’t reply to you as he doesn’t recognize your number. We do that in Suriname, I’ll let him know… Well, her intervention unlocked the blockage and we promised to see Mr Roman the next day after he replied to our message after the lady at the store called him and give him our bonafides.  Suriname functions on who you know apparently.

Paramaribo cemetery entrance

We found our way to Kwattaweg 143 and after not locating the shop on our drive past the first time we went round the block on some narrow sand alleys freaking out the neighbors with our giant van, but on the second pass  I stopped across the street and took to my feet. 143 was …a supermarket. Huh?

Roman’s Supermarket

I went inside and of course the nice Chinese lady cashier spoke no English. So I got my mime jacket on and mimed sewing; her face lit up and she found me a sewing kit. Finally a guy who spoke a little English came by and he directed me down the alley alongside the supermarket. 

Roman’s Tailor Shop 

Well that looked like a tailors shop but Mr Roman was nowhere to be seen. We decided to come back after lunch, and at least we knew where to go now.  Suriname is like that, the country is so small everyone knows everyone and you hardly need to advertise. Indeed Mr Roman sent us a message out of the blue saying he’d be back after 2pm. Clearly the clerk in his supermarket told him two weirdo Americans  were looking for him and he knew exactly who we were.  We had Dim Sum for lunch. 

Restaurant basin in the dining room 

I love these basins in restaurants, not in the toilet but in the dining room and I use them. And then lunch. 

Fried ribs, dumplings, baby bok choy and hot tea

It was good but as usual not cheap at US $32. I don’t suppose that sounds wildly expensive but in Peru a workers’ lunch might cost less than ten bucks for two. Different standards of living. 

Mr Roman was in and he took the measurements and said our alterations will be ready by 1pm Saturday. I have a taxi booked to the airport for one pm Sunday with breakfast planned in Amsterdam Monday morning and lunch in Inverness. Air travel is uncomfortably fast compared to GANNET2.

Mr Roman charged a reasonable $12 for the work 

His English was not extensive but enough to be understood without miming. And so it goes in Suriname. 

Paramaribo labyrinth 

And that’s one simple task complete. Travel broadens the mind they say which may be true but it does teach you the value of knowing how to plan to take time and effort to accomplish the simplest tasks.  If you need a tailor in Paramaribo I know now how to find one. And he speaks some English.