Sunday, September 8, 2013

Survived the Trip and the First Week


First thing in the morning -– peaceful and quiet, traffic hasn’t started, a little cooling breeze (forget that I have the fan still on) - - I am just sitting with my first cup of coffee and thinking about the past week.

Friday evening, August 30th, I was saying goodbye to Anne and our home in Ayr.   To prepare me to be in a Developing Country, the airport cab was very late, and the line for security at the airport stretched from one end to the other.  There was no need to hurry, however, because the rain had flooded a gate and the plane had to wait… “Attention passengers on Caribbean Flight 602 there will be a slight delay… “   First it was to be 15 minutes, then they announced further delays in 15 minute increments, until finally we were going to leave an hour and a half late.  And all this time their website  already showed a 90 minute delay!  I guess they were in fear for their lives from a passenger revolt if they just told everyone the truth right away.  They were breaking it to us gently.   Thanks, Canada -- I felt ready for Guyana!

The flight was uneventful and there was no one beside me – ah, small pleasures!  I had taken my “gravol” to try to fall asleep and I did.  Amazing, because I usually can’t sleep on a plane.   Shortly into the flight I heard the gentle sound of a young woman’s voice.  I like dreaming on a plane.  However, it was the flight attendant asking about the rubber chicken sandwich in the cardboard box… and a $6 beer (No way; I do have some principles.)   Well, that was the end of my sleep ..… At least I had the inflight movie and music ..…   No, alas; they didn’t work .….  

I tried to go back to sleep.  We kept hitting turbulence which was a soothing, rocking sensation, and our helpful pilot kept turning on the lights and announcing that we were experiencing some turbulence ..… I guess he didn’t realize that the back of the plane was connected to the cockpit.   And my young tender-touch attendant never was seen again until we were preparing for landing.  Then:  NO COFFEE.

No beer is one thing, but no coffee!!  And then, (like an old CEO at the hospital who always started her management meetings with an overly positive Newfie saying so that you really just wanted to jump out of your seat and ..… ) in a long chorus line, our flight attendants hoped that we had had a good trip and “Please fly with us again”.

Anne would have been proud of me as I didn’t say anything, especially not anything that I was thinking…..   And, of course I will fly with you again, Caribbean Airlines. You are the only carrier going to -– and hopefully coming from –- Guyana!

Exiting the plane, I felt the breeze as deliciously cool and I wondered if I was in the wrong country.  No:  all the surroundings were familiar and I knew to walk fast, to get into a line early, because the immigration people seem to get grumpier towards the end of the line.     I was first in line and quite pleased with myself until they started to roll up people in wheelchairs, including some who had been walking back and forth to the washroom all night.   I wanted to scream “They are faking it!  Wait.  I can heal her; just watch me!”  I just kept chanting under my breath:  “Next time I am using the VIP line.”  

I was still through the formalities before the luggage arrived.  Actually, everyone was there before the luggage arrived.   A long wait, then everyone was heading to the “Nothing to Declare” line.  All Guyanese use this line even if they are bringing in a live cow in a bag.   It might not have been bad if their new super-duper scanning machine was working.  To be fair: it did work -- but infrequently. 

If there is one thing that I have learned about the Guyanese, it is that they abhor lines.  Abhor might be too strong a word; they just ignore lines.  So if you don’t knock down the old guy trying to weasel his way into line; he will be in front of you in the blink of an eye ….. 

I did get my bags to the scanner where it quickly spit them back and I reloaded them, only to have the belt on the machine return them again.   As I picked them up, the young woman who was apparently moving her 4 bedroom apartment in her ten pieces of luggage began claiming the empty space on the belt… My chanting was becoming more like my old NYC mantras ....… 

Finally, through the scanner and my bags are flagged to open.   I had to climb over a pile of bags to go get mine dug out from the other side of the scanner -- when it broke again.  There was nowhere to go but out, so the exasperated Customs official just said “Go!” And go I did, where Waja was faithfully waiting for me with his new van.  And it was still early on the first morning ..…
  
Our Flat

After several months and numerous correspondences, I confidently entered my flat and .. …  well, ….. it still needed some work.  No fan in any bedroom nor in the living area nor in the kitchen and bath area which has no operable window so is really a sauna.   The toilet takes an hour to refill, and the shower only drips.  It actually drips faster when the valve is shut off.  And two more screens are needed .…. and the fridge doesn’t cool .….   and there’s no internet in the flat.   “All coming ‘Just Now’, Rev…”  (Rough translation: “Not today Rev. Go away.”)  Otherwise the place is fine!    

Now, a week later, things have improved all around.  There is almost internet in the flat.  It was here for a moment and now gone ..… No one seems to know, but they’ll come back on Monday to fix it.   And the shower is promised definitely for tomorrow.   So, all-in-all,  good.   I can get on to the net by going over to the Nursing School, so there is no real hardship.  As we used to say on the basketball courts in Brooklyn, “No Blood, No Foul.”  No blood loss here, yet..…

It is actually good to be back and to realize how eager the students are to learn and how really grateful that I am here… A fine feeling!  I’ll speak more about the students and the School for my next blog, as this is already long.

And Volunteer Bev arrives this morning with the sun.    
Bev Arrived and Right to Work!


More next week.     John

3 comments:

  1. Glad you are back at it Dad. Miss you, but the Ramblings always help with that! Say hi to any that would remember me. Love Kristin

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  2. Some of the matrons remember you swell as some older students... and of course, I remember you and love you. Dad

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  3. Getting a late start at following the blog this year, dad .... but catching up now! So glad you are there to give so much ... I aspire to be you ... well maybe not the beer drinking/poor speller/physical characteristics parts ... but all (well most, well some) of the rest ...

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