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Acknowledgments ix aCkNowledgmeNts I did not choose Curaçao as a research site as much as Curaçao chose me, or, perhaps, more aptly, Curaçao captured me, the unusual diversity of its music captivating my research interests, while the kindness and sincerity of the people enabled a rare sense of belonging. Although now a bit ironic, my initial plan for research was to explore the Petro pantheon of Haiti’s Vodou religion. In preparation for this endeavor I attended separate language courses in French and Patois, I took university-led seminars in French Caribbean history, and I built up a library of essays and books on the topic. I excitedly made plans to relocate to Port-au-Prince, organizing contacts and finalizing a place of temporary residence. As the dates for my travel to Haiti drew closer, however, unrest between Haiti and the United States escalated. With the United States threatening a forced invasion, the prospective lenders of my research grant contracted their support, suggesting instead I reapply for research to another Caribbean country. The eventual decision to focus on the Netherlands Antilles, surprisingly, did not come quickly or easily.Yet, once made, the decision revealed an overarching logic, and I remain surprised and even perplexed that the decision was so slow in coming. I am of Dutch American ancestry; my father (now deceased) was a major scholar of Dutch American history; and as a family we spent summers living in Den Haag. Moving my research to the Dutch Caribbean was not only reasonable; it felt “natural.” The “story,” however, is not yet finished—Curaçao was not my first choice; Bonaire, a neighboring island was, with travel to Curaçao planned four to five months later. I bought my airline ticket, packed my suitcases, and prepared my departure. Arriving in Miami, however, I received news that the plane to Bonaire was canceled. Passengers were being rerouted to Cura- çao, with flights to Bonaire scheduled one week later. Unexpectedly, I found myself comfortably settling into Curaçaoan life during that week: within x ACKNOWLEDGMENTS the first few days of arrival I had met with—and even performed alongside —numerous local musicians, had found a suitable apartment, and had enrolled in an accelerated Papiamento language course. I never did travel to Bonaire during that initial trip; the unused airline voucher issued at the Miami International Airport remains tucked in my collected papers, serving as reminder that life’s journeys cannot always be predicted. My integration into Curaçaoan society definitely was eased by the fact that I am a musician. Well-versed in jazz and salsa performance, I served as a frequent guest flautist and regular member of several local groups and bands. Through the common ground of musical performance, I was thus able to connect with and gain the respect of Curaçaoan musicians and local audiences in ways that would otherwise have been impossible. Many of the conversations I engaged with local musicians occurred after gigs, when party hosts shut their doors to outside visitors, and offered drinks to the musicians and a few close friends. Without my flute-playing, these conversations would almost certainly have remained closed, and musicians likely would not have conversed so honestly and openly with me. I have since traveled to Curaçao fourteen additional times, most trips planned around continuing the research for this book. It is with enormous gratitude that I thank the people of Curaçao for opening their lives to me, for embracing me as part of their family. They never shied away from my questions; they answered with grace, honesty, and candidness. Very special thanks go to the Salsbach and Arvelo families: Arnell, Michael, Claritza, Lalo, Diëllo, Viennaline (Ninki), Mafalda, Martijn “Shon Ma,” Sherman, and, especially , Epifania “Fanny” Salsbach, who graciously opened her home and heart during my many visits and today stands as one of my dearest friends; and to the Wout family: Lucille, Jenny, Aura Rijke, Willem, and, particularly, John, for his unyielding generosity and friendship; and to Rose Mary Allen, Gilbert Bacilio, Errol “Toro” Colina, Boy Dap, Max Martina, the late Edgar Palm, and John James Willekes for their critical dialogues and observations . I have also been the beneficiary of exemplary generosity and support from Tambú followers and supporters, who shared their time and private lives despite overarching social, religious, and legal restrictions surrounding Tambú. Due to possible retribution, their names cannot be shared. My gratitude, therefore, cannot be fully served by these acknowledgments...

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