We are often told that, despite its European colonial heritage, Aruba is the closest to the United States and the most Americanized of the ABC Lesser Antilles.
Geographical and historical sister of Bonaire and Curaçao, practically equidistant from the USA, there are other reasons for this reality. In particular, the fact that, aside from being an obligatory port for cruises that cross the Caribbean, for some time now it has become a longer-lasting escape destination for Gringos.
An island shelter full of hotels, resorts, beaches and activities and its own tourist circuit that, during the winter in the northern hemisphere, justifies regular direct flights and that Americans and Canadians arrive in droves.
When we got off the plane from Curaçao, the name Rainha Beatriz International Airport proves the integration of Aruba in the Kingdom of the Netherlands.
The look and behavior of the immigration officers and taxi drivers, however, remind us of a North American reality.
Aruba: Between the Imaginary of the Netherlands and the USA
They leave us confused.
When we arrive in Oranjestad, we notice the abundance of curvilinear and multicolored facades and pediments typical of the Netherlands, in the downtown houses. We surrender again to the Dutch imaginary.
We settled in three times in a hotel in the center.
Shortly after, it gets dark. We surrender to the tiredness of traveling all day.
The next morning is Sunday. Oranjestad turns out to be almost deserted.
As a rule, installed on the ground floor of colonial buildings of this type, shops and other businesses are closed and sealed by sliding bars.
It's Sunday. Cruises to Largo and Oranjestad City Closed
Since, on Sundays, there is almost no commercial life in the city, the cruises, on other days of the week, several at anchor, avoid it.
The absence of its thousands of visiting passengers also contributed to that phantom Aruba that welcomed us.
We give in to the unusual. We wander around the heart of the capital focusing on its urban and architectural facets. We walked through streets after streets, most of them identified as straat.
A large commercial complex stands out, in pink tones, above the city's port, in front of the docks where cruise ships dock.
The Dutch Legacy Renaissance Aruba
Once a hotel, the shopping center is called Renaissance Aruba.
Accordingly, it recovers and displays to newcomers the characteristic architectural features of Amsterdam and other cities in the Netherlands, the same ornate gambrel roofs, above second floors with balconies.
Inside, dozens of boutiques and other refined establishments seduce outsiders with the most enviable luxury products. The complex became complex.
Today, it comprises a resort and two casinos, restaurants, water sports and, offshore, a private island adorned by flamingos where – as residents of the city tell us – parts of the wings are removed, so that they become residents.
As you would expect, despite the proprietary company's Machiavellian processes, the flamingos in particular attract dozens of well-heeled visitors a day.
Customers pay more than €100 for speedboat transport to the island and twenty minutes of socializing with the scarlet birds, full of photos and, above all, instagrammable selfies.
Oranjestad: The Capital's Dutch Urban Influence Grid
Oranjestad is so much more and better than its famous but scatterbrained attraction.
O aruba streetcar, an open-top two-story tram runs along a central route that passes behind the Renaissance Aruba, along leafy and almost pedestrian Main Street.
Once again, this axis takes outsiders from one end of Oranjestad to the other.
To the west of the street, the expected Victoria Secret, Zara and Mango windows follow one another.
Nearby, as we walk along the perpendicular Oranjestraat, we come across the Historical Museum of Aruba, well identified by the Willem III tower and Fort Zoutman around it.
The Colonial Heart of Oranjestad and Aruba
This is the oldest Dutch colonial legacy on the island, dating back to 1796.
At that time, the dispute between the powers of the Old World (also over the islands of the Caribbean Sea) was still such that an admiral who defeated a British fleet in the North Sea deserved the baptism of the fort.
At the time of its construction, the fortification was aligned with the island's coastline. Several cannons discouraged the enemies from approaching.
Despite the presence of British people, French, Spanish, danes and others in the surrounding waters and Antilles, several of these islands were lairs of pirates who made the Caribbean Sea their radius of action.
As such, the Dutch maintained their administrative offices and the providential lighthouse that the Willem III tower was equipped with inside the fort. This tower has become a structure and hallmark of the city Oranjestad.
It is a museum that exhibits key artefacts of island life from the earliest times when the native Arawaks and Caiquetios inhabited it.
In front of the tower stands the statue of Jan Hendrik, identified as “defender of pueblo” and the struggle for autonomy in Aruba.
Aruba: from Caiquetia Island to Multiethnic and Multicultural Island
With colonial interference, mixing was intensified.
Gradually, in Oranjestad, we see the prevailing ethnic mix in the Insular Constituent Countries of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, the Caribbean.
Over the centuries, their genes combined in Aruba, the indigenous and European settlers, first the Spanish, then the Dutch. The latter, they took to the island African slaves who were held in Cape Verde.
They were joined by Jews expelled by the Iberian Crowns of Portugal, Spain and from Brazil.
Especially the slaves who arrived in large numbers to speak Creole, dictated the linguistic basis of Papiamento, the fascinating dialect spoken in Oranjestad, as in the rest of Aruba, in Curaçao and Bonaire.
Later, thousands of emigrants from North and South America, especially from Venezuela which has its Coro Peninsula a few miles south of Aruba.
And even more recent Portuguese emigrants. On one of the nights, we had dinner at the West Deck restaurant in Oranjestad.
There, the owner, Anabela Peterson de Sousa, born in Funchal, married to Robby V. Peterson. They are a couple of renowned hotel and restaurant businesspeople on the island.
In turn, Johnatan, the local guide who helps us explore Aruba, is of Dutch descent and married to a Dutch woman.
His mother is Dutch, his father is a Maduro of Venezuelan origin.
Along Lloyd G. Smith Boulevard
With the sun still high, the walk through the city center begins to wear us out.
We agree on the urgency of resting and refreshing ourselves.
We point to Lloyd G. Smith Boulevard, the city's coastal avenue, bathed by the Caribbean Sea that provides exiguous sand, shaded by hyper-amified trees, with multiplied canopies.
We take a dip there. Soon others.
Keeping an eye on the planes that, just a few hundred meters away, skimmed the sea on their approach to Rainha Beatriz airport.
The Big Sunday Beach Party
Without warning, the sound of Caribbean music hits our ears, especially reggaeton, interspersed with the voiceover of any animator.
The promise of celebration intrigues us.
We walked along the beach until we passed the Sousa Peterson couple's other restaurant, “Pinchos Bar and Grill”. We arrive at Surfside Beach and the open bay that precedes the airport.
Over there, out of nowhere, we discovered the whereabouts of a good part of the missing population in the center of the capital. At least, most of the younger ones.
We come across dozens of pleasure boats.
They are anchored, side by side, like an improvised floating village, colonized by a nautical and bathing community determined to make Sunday memorable.
Between the beach and this fleet of boats, going back and forth, another one, made of flamingos, white, black and gold swans, unicorns, mattresses and rowing mini-boats, circling.
A myriad of marine utensils and toys on which the crowd floated, danced, drank beer, mojitos e rum punches one after the other.
In which he offered and engendered endless choreographies and pranks, in a contagious and contagious emulation of so many Pool and Beach Parties that MTV and similar music channels popularized, in the United States and around the world.
We cannot resist that tidal wave of life and color.
We took out our cameras and phones. We register the event.
They give us access to the VIP space and the organization.
When we are encouraged to climb the DJ tower, we accept.
Downstairs, two teenagers were strolling around and abusing an inflatable doll that, from time to time, they watered down with beer.
Hundreds of other partygoers responded to the DJ's challenge.
They waved their arms and generated a new wave of Caribbean wonder.
From that top, in the company of the musical protagonists, we enjoyed a festive Oranjestad city that was at odds with the dying city that, until then, we had known.
The next morning, with the cruises back and the establishments open, we saw the capital of Aruba somewhat hungover, recovering its day-to-day life and its Dutch identity with obvious gringo mannerisms.
