One trans woman’s journey to find her cultural roots in Suriname
‘My courageous and militant attitude is necessary to educate my people’
Xavi, a Dutch trans woman with Surinamese and Javanese backgrounds, has returned to her origins by moving from the Netherlands to Suriname, going against the grain of many activists and campaigners who prefer to immigrate from the Global South to the safer and more progressive Global North.
In the following interview with Erasing 76 Crimes, she discusses why she made that difficult choice, which she does not regret despite the troubles it has brought to her as a public figure on social networks.
Xavi K.: I’m a trans woman in my thirties and I was born in Suriname, but I didn’t stay there very long, as I then flew with my family to Bonaire, before spending most of my youth in Bijlmer, on the outskirts of Amsterdam, in a neighborhood with a high concentration of immigrants from Suriname.
As an adult, I chose to return to my parents’ country in 2017, in order to feel more acceptance of my historical, social and cultural identity. My parents are Surinamese of Javanese descent.
As a trans woman, my life here is a challenge, which I didn’t experience in the Netherlands, but nevertheless, I feel more fulfilled among my own kind, in terms of symbolic identity.
In any case, I came back to Suriname to be able to find the roots that are conducive to my kinesis.
However, as a trans woman, I must confess that in Suriname, I have become a public figure in spite of myself through social networks, where videos of me going to the women’s toilet and arguing with the security guard at Hermitage Mall soon made the rounds of the web, in 2021.
Erasing 76 Crimes: What was the public reaction?
Xavi K.: It earned me an enormous amount of mockery and people jeered me outrageously in the street when they saw me. Nevertheless, I feel that I have always remained congruent with myself and my gender identity, because I feel like a woman and I am a woman, despite my gender expression.
My courageous and militant attitude is necessary to educate my people, because people need to stop prejudging the gender identity of others on the basis of appearance or birth sex.
I know it’s not easy for a lot of people, but little by little, now, I’m entitled to a certain form of indifference, on the outside at least.
Erasing 76 Crimes: : Why the facade?
Xavi K.: We live in a transphobic world, and associating with me exposes you to a loss of reputation. I’m well aware of this when it comes to love or finding a job, or even within my family, as if in these difficult economic times in Suriname, I still needed that.
In fact, that’s why I sometimes have suicidal thoughts, when I feel that everything is blocked for me.
Previously, I worked at Paramaribo’s Javanese market in Kwatta, where I sold and marketed tea and coffee produced locally by an agricultural cooperative in the hinterland, in order to promote the circular economy and organic, peasant farming.
Alas, while the cooperative’s director accepted the challenge of recruiting me, the farmer with whom I was present on the stalls was more reserved, and for him, my presence in contact with customers represented a risk of losing sales revenue. So once again, I was sidelined, because trans-ecology or the inclusion of trans people in sustainable development is not a perspective that has yet taken root here.
Erasing 76 Crimes: What does that mean?
Xavi K.: I’m still part of AANEEN, which is a development cooperative for the employment, insertion and economic and environmental inclusion of young people from disadvantaged communities in Suriname, despite my most recent unsuccessful experience. I’m staying with it because I believe in it and have high hopes for this approach to human and social development.
At the same time, I’m a board member of New Monday, a social charity for queer communities here in Suriname, but also in the Netherlands. We focus on issues of sexual health as well as well-being and fulfillment around ballroom culture.
However, we still have a long way to go to change mentalities, including within LGBT+ communities where transphobia is rife.
On a regional scale, as I speak English, even though it’s not an official language in Suriname, I have some access to advocacy workshops that are mainly geared towards English-speaking audiences. Also, I often regret to observe a certain lack of knowledge and interest in the country where I live, as we are not a former British colony and we are not a member of the Commonwealth.
Finally, regarding the spiritual dimension, as a trans woman cultivating a concern for the balance with nature, I am an animist. To this end, for me the first webinar organized by the Global Interfaith Network (GIN) in the Caribbean in October 2020 remains an unforgettable memory, even though the event dedicated to faith and spirituality was particularly long and took place over two days. However, to date, in my experience, this is where I found the pan-Caribbean dimension to be the most accomplished, as we were able to hear from people from Haiti and French-speaking territories who usually have relatively little visibility at regional level.
