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I remember in 2003 or so I was still living in St. Maarten. I was visiting in the Netherlands and I noticed that they had placed a huge heap of sand in the center of a certain roundabout. It irritated me because it was stupid: it blocked the view of oncoming traffic and I was…

By Marvin Hokstam You know what gets to me the most these days? The stories about the heroics of the Dutch (French, British) marines who have been sent to the islands to assist in the aftermath of hurricanes Irma and Maria. Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate that they are there, but it irritates me…

“Het Punt” vertelt onder andere het verhaal van mijn oma’s oma, Apolonia. Op 1 juli 1863 was ze 62 jaar oud. Dat wil zeggen dat ze haar hele leven lang als slaaf gewerkt heeft op een plantage. Ik kan me de dag herinneren in 2014 toen ik haar vond in de slavernijregisters in het Nationaal…

It’s not a good thing to admit to doing, but fuck it: I hate these simpledick motherfuckers who walk around with their selfie sticks snapping pictures of themselves and their self confident grins that say ‘look at me doing shit and being great’. Pompous has gotten a new meaning. What kinda level of voyeurism must…

“Sir, may I show you my timeshare resort?” vroeg dat bloedmooie Mexicaanse meisje me. Ik was aan het window shoppenin het winkelcentrum van Cancun en zij was me natuurlijk al eerder opgevallen, maar ik had niet verwacht dat ze me zou aanspreken. “Come again?” vroeg ik. Ze wilde me een tour van het hotel aansmeren, in de hoop…

By Marvin Hokstam Often media houses only serve to tell the stories of their communities, as observers rarely becoming the subject themselves. For St. Maarten’s The Daily Herald, Hurricane Irma offered an opportunity to go beyond the call of duty; and they clutched it. The paper escaped Irma’s wrath fairly unscathed and has accommodated its…