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‘No, he’s an Eskimo,’ I whispered back.

The headmaster looked at the class and said nothing, obviously wanting to give us time to absorb this historic moment.

‘Class,’ said Berkhout, I’d like to introduce you to David Castelen. He’s from Paramaribo and recently came to live here. From today David will be a member of your class. I’m counting on you to show him the ropes and make sure he soon feels at home in our school. Anyone got any questions?’

No questions.

‘David, any questions?’

‘No, I don’t have any questions.’

‘Good. Then Mr Giesma will assign you a seat and you can quickly brush up your knowledge of Dutch mathematics.’

‘I hope it isn’t as hard as the Surinamese kind.’ There was laughter. Giesma pointed him to the empty spot next to André, at the back of the class. David walked over to it like Elvis Presley going on stage, with swinging hips.

Joost looked at me and made significant movements with his eyebrows. ‘Seems okay,’ he whispered.

I nodded. ‘What do you think, is he gay?’

‘Blacks are never gay, didn’t you know that? They’re far too big to be gay. The other gays can’t take it.’