My French Guiana adventure: Day 7

My last full day in French Guiana. I've had an eventful week, so I'm going to take it easy and just hang around Cayenne. After I return the rental car, I set out to get some stamps to mail three postcards to my wife and kids and one postcard to Friend of the Blog Ramon in Chile.

The post office ordeal takes over an hour. First, I wait in a long line that winds around the outside of the post office. It's hot and humid and there's barely any shade. After a while, I realize everyone in line is actually there to do banking. I get out of line and enter the post office, where I wait in a much shorter line in the post office post office part of the post office.

The employees work so slowly. Every time an employee comes in, they give each other the three-peck kiss to each other. The customer in front of me is nice but smells putrid. It's my turn.

I can only buy a sheet of six stamps at around eight euros. I use my credit card but it requires a PIN. I don't have a PIN. I need to pay with cash (coins only). I only have seven euros in coins. Fuck.

I go back outside and go to a Chinese-run market and buy the smallest bottle of water. It's tiny. I break a bill and get enough coins. I go back to the post office and wait in line again. This time, I wait in line with a young man who has a fistful of one cent coins, which he promptly drops on the floor.

With the post office errand complete, I walk back to my hotel. On the way, I see two guys on the sidewalk hanging out with their eight songbirds, each housed in its own ornate wooden cage. The men are cousins. The one who speaks English is a fisherman and served five years in prison for being at the scene of a stabbing. His cousin drives special needs children around. We end up chatting for almost an hour about everything French Guiana, from race relations to jungle survival to the protagonist's father's murder.

For dinner, to celebrate, I go to the highest-rated Chinese restaurant in town. I tried going there on my first day in Cayenne but it was closed. Next to me is a table of six friends. For the first time during my trip, I see Black and Chinese people socializing with each other. The owner's daughter, maybe a fifth grader, is roller blading around the dining room, looking bored.

I ask the owner for the best seafood dish and she brings this to me. Cuttlefish, clams, and shrimp on a fajita plate. It is very good but does not taste like Chinese food.

Tomorrow, I leave this strange land. And it does not go as expected.