The Dope stories of MauBack to About Nirvana Shop
Good to be back! I’m gonna start with the earliest memories I have concerning weed. For that I have to go back to the mid 60 ties. As a kid I used to hang around at the center of my town, where back in the days, the youth hung out. Mostly long haired, hippies, who sat on the street, where they held conversations, playing acoustic guitars
and, they mixed some green herb with their shag.
In my eyes they were a bit of outlaws, for the village was mostly a very puritanical place, where everything out of the ordinary was looked down on. And I liked them. I found them so cool, that peace and love generation, that I definitely wanted 2 things when I was grown up. I wanted to grow long hair and I also wanted to smoke that green herb! Well, those two things I for sure did!
The first time I was introduced to DA WEE, was by a cousin of me. I must have been 16 years old. I saw him in a weekend and he asked me to come with him. He had a car and i sat next to him in the front, where he opened the glovebox and took out a bag with lovely smelling weed! It must’ve been at least 250 grams!
He was an undercover cop in the big city, and he told me, that, on one of his night patrols, he caught a dealer. He made a deal with that dealer (lol) and said: ok, for this time I’m just going to confiscate your drugs and will only give you a warning, but let it be clear that the next time I will have you arrested. The dealer was very happy he said, and he promised to never do it again.
My cousin never reported it, and kept the weed for himself! It was African weed, probably Nigerian, which was one of the most common at the time. Later I discovered more available weeds from Africa like Durban poison, Swasi and Rooibaard. Every time I saw my cousin in the weekend I asked him if he still had weed,and if so we went to his car and got high.
At the time there were no coffeeshops yet. The only place where you could buy weed or hash was at a dealer. There were house dealers in some busy discos and bars. That way the owner of the place didn’t risk losing his license for illegal activities, he just blamed the dealer and had "nothing to do with it"‘. But ofcourse they had a piece of the pie. When I wanted to smoke, I knew a bouncer, he sold only 2 kinds, Moroccan hash, wrapped in aluminum foil. A slice of 5 gram was 25 guilders at the time (12$) and he had weed ,mostly African, also 5 grams for 25,-, which always had seeds and sticks.
Also you could buy hash and weed on the street, but it was mostly sold by hard drugs dealers who were addicted themselves. One night Rene, a friend from me and I bought something on the street, that area was infamous for its crime, prostitution, junkies and a normal person would not go there especially at that time of the day. But ok, we bought some, and while we were hanging out in a porch trying to smoke a joint, the undercover cops suddenly showed up and arrested us. It was a rainy night, we didn’t think, why was it so quiet actually, normally there were much more people around, little did we know that the city had a crackdown on dealers and junkies, so they were rounding them up.
Because we looked suspicious, they thought we were using hard drugs there, and maybe shooting up there, they arrested us! Well, at the police station they searched us and of course they didn’t find more than a bit of weed. Obviously we didn’t look like junkies, and after they found out that we just wanted some soft drugs, they let us go.
It wasn’t long after that the first coffee shop was opened, which was actually also a bar. The place was called The Scene and was in the heart of the city center. Here’s where I met people who, in my opinion, had a different view on life. Instead of getting stupid drunk, they had conversations, debates, idealistic thoughts. They were quite more interesting. So I became a frequent visitor there. Also they had a steady supply of a few different kinds of weed and hash. Which was so cooooooooool.
During that time I made more and more friends who were smoking weed. More places opened that started to sell all kinds of weed and hashish. We had fun days that we went to the beach, at nights, where we took food and drinks and our pipes with us. We made bonfires and one day when the sun rose, I found out we were actually at a nudist beach! First time for me, I was feeling a bit awkward, mostly older people,laying butt naked in the sun. Little could we do then to join them. Later in the day we ended up playing bongo and guitar in a restaurant at that beach, all naked to collect some money to buy food. To great fun for all the other nudists of course, and we got free food from the owner.
I was living with a guy who claimed to be one of the twins playing in the famous Dutch band Earth and Fire. We used to have parties at his place a lot. One day a guy named Fred, came back from Morocco with a suitcase full of hash and a liter of hash oil. He sold all the hash and oil but kept some of the oil for himself. He asked if he could stay with us in exchange for a small bottle of that oil. So I got a hold of that bottle of hash oil, must have been worth thousand dollars at that time, and all that you had to do was spread a little bit over a cigarette, it burned up while smoking and made you high as a monkey!
One day I asked 13 friends to come over, for I wanted to make hash food for them using the hash oil.
I made a huge amount of fried rice and mixed 1 spoon of that oil through it. The party lasted 3 days, peeps were sleeping everywhere, stoned from the food and it felt like it lasted forever to ease. Very well remember, afterwards, that going to the toilet to poo took ages, for it was like chewing gum that got stuck, LoL.
So I met more and more people in the first coffeeshop in Rotterdam.
We smoked, got high and started conversations like Socrates and Plato style, a totally different world.
We had a plan to go on a trip, hitchhiking to the South of France.
The night before we intended to leave, we met two crazy older women, one of them had a husband who was a dealer she said. They asked if we wanted to come to their place for a smoke and we agreed. On the table were at least three big plates of hasheesh. I had never seen that much hash before. We could smoke what we wanted, so we did our best. Then all of a sudden the dealers wife came in the room and started to freak out, pulling out a big gun and addressed me to go sit on the table, where all that hash was laying. I thought she was going to shoot me, and she kept on rolling joints, until the morning when she finally fell asleep herself, on which we quickly disappeared!
Well, the next day we went hitchhiking and arriving in Paris, we were looking for other travelers, I think they hung at place Pigalle. We made some friends, smoking some and after a few days we decided to go more south. Jan, a friend I was with, had the stash with him, and it was one day that we were given a ride by some Jehovah witnesses or so. They said their car didn’t drive good, coming all the way from Paris, and when it started to drive normal again, there were we standing on the side of the road with our thumbs up. They thought that it was an act of God so they stopped and gave us a lift.
They asked us where we were going to and we said just to the beach, but then they asked us if we wanted to stay with them, for free! We agreed and put up our tent in their garden. They asked us to join them for supper and we had a great time. What’s not so great, that in the night, we wanted to smoke some and Jan couldn’t find his stash anymore! We thought omg, what if it dropped in the car! They would be very disappointed and send us out. Jan had of course this big wooden cross around his neck, and acted as if he also was religious. He actually said his name was Jean Claude de Baptiste.
Luckily nothing happened so seemingly they did not find our stash. We stayed for a week or so, it was near the beach in a place close to Nice.