governor’s eyes. So, being a powerful man who knew what he wanted, he ordered the houses to be painted the colors of their owners’ choices. Simple as that.”

“If you’re a governor,” Biff replied, laughing.

“And you see that large building over there?” Uncle Charlie pointed to a magnificent structure standing on top of a hill.

“Big enough to be a palace,” Biff commented.

“It’s Franklin D. Roosevelt House, the United States consulate. The Dutch built it up there on Ararat Hill to express their thanks for our protection of these Dutch islands during World War II.”

“That was really nice of them.”

“Good neighbors, the Dutch.”

Biff stopped in front of a store displaying beautiful English china and Swedish crystal. He pretended to be inspecting these beautiful wares. Actually he was listening intently to a rapid-fire conversation between two native clerks.

“I don’t get it,” Biff said, shaking his head.

“What don’t you get?”

“The language they’re speaking. I thought at first it was Spanish. I know I caught some Spanish words. And some English words. And I could pick out some Portuguese, too. But it’s all so mixed up.”

Uncle Charlie laughed. “No wonder you’re puzzled. They’re speaking a language made up of more different languages than any other in the world. It’s called Papiamento. The jargon is a combination of Dutch, English, Spanish, Portuguese, African, and Indian words. Carib Indians. A few French words thrown in, too.”

“Just like Curaçao itself.”

“That’s right, Biff. This island is filled with many races although the Dutch are predominant.”

Uncle Charlie looked at his watch, then glanced up at the sun. “Aren’t you getting hungry? It’s after noon,” he said.

“Now that you remind me,” Biff replied with a grin, “I’m starving.”

“Like to go back to the hotel, or how about some real Dutch-Javanese food? Dutch cooking is good. Heavy, though.”

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