The Grand Arrival

As long as I don't move anything more than my eyelids, I really don't notice how hot it is...

I've finally arrived in South Caicos! The truth is, it doesn't feel that hot for 90 degrees. There's a strong breeze and it's certainly not as humid as Florida or Costa Rica. I've been told that it's not always this windy though.


The big question was whether or not I'd arrive in Provo with enough time to catch the connector flight to South Caicos; I was scheduled to land at 2:31pm and the last connector departs at 3:15pm. Because there was no telling whether or not I'd arrive on time and because I had to get through immigration and customs, they originally wouldn't let me make a reservation on the 3:15pm flight. But the flight from the US actually arrived 20 minutes early and I had no trouble getting on standby.

Jessee picked me up in the new van at the South Caicos airport (at least, what they call an airport - it's more like a small barn). It was so good to make it here and see her. If I hadn't been able to get the connector, I probably would have ended up sleeping in the bushes behind the Provo airport (I really didn't want to shell out what it would have cost to stay at the luxury hotels they have there). She took me on a tour of the island, which really didn't take more than a few minutes because it's so small. It's an interesting place. There's lots of derelict buildings (ruins almost) of the old salt industry. It reminds me of the typical developing village. I've only seen a couple of the wild horses and just from a distance, but I did encounter the stray dogs. They're pretty tame. When Jessee described them as packs (which they are), I pictured wolves, but they'll leave you alone if you chase them off.

By my description so far, I'm not really making this sound much like the "tropical paradise" it's supposed to be. Really, it's quite beautiful. Some of the ruined buildings are aesthetically pleasing, the view is spectacular, the water is crystal clear and really warm, and I even saw a flock of flamingos from a distance.

I met a ton of people and can't keep anybody's name straight. They are all very friendly, but slightly disappointed that the rumor they heard about me being a "writer" isn't true. Apparently in her interview, Jessee mentioned that I had been busy writing (I was working on a journal article at the time), and that morphed into me being a novelist. The staff all envisioned me spending hours plugging away at an old fashioned typewriter. Some had even hoped to have characters modeled after them and worked into my stories!

Several people asked what I thought of the connector flight from Provo to South Caicos. It's a rickety little plane that, apparently, has a reputation for being terrifying. I didn't mind it. I feel much more comfortable in small planes like that than I do in big jets - mostly, I think, because it's so unnerving to me when the wings flex in turbulence on the big planes (I was watching them do that on a couple flights recently). Maybe it was also because it was pretty smooth weather when I flew on the little one.


Flight
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAzEY2hHd78)


The cabin of the plane is open right into the cockpit. You can actually watch the pilot fly the plane. It probably could have seated 20, but there were only about 10 of us on it. The view from above is stunning. We flew over the Caicos Bank (the shallow area adjacent to the islands) and the water was turquiose-blue. You could see everything all the way to the bottom. I was thinking about all the marine life that was below, but just couldn't be seen from such a distance.


The evening here was nice and cool. Jessee said it was "cold," but I'm not sure I'd go that far. I fear what she considers to be "hot." We swam down by the dock to wash off all the stickiness, and sat catching up for for several hours.

My visit to New York was very good. Even though my father is very sick, it was good to see my cousins, uncle, half-sister, and grandmother (who is especially fun to be around these days). Machute (Lithuanian for "grandma") recently had cataract surgery, and it made an incredible difference. The very first thing she said to me when I got there is "I can see your shirt" - she was reading the words written there. Not only has it improved her vision, she is much more able to follow conversations. I'm certain the replacement of the battery that had been dead in her hearing aid for about 10 years helped, but I'm convinced that she follows better because she can pick up on gestures, facial expression, and lip movement, now that she can see you. Before you had to explain things 3 or 4 ways and you still weren't sure if she understood you (not to mention the language barrier). Now she barely misses a thing.

Machute also talks much more these days. She told me a story about her brother that I had never heard before. He was in the Lithuanian military during the period around WWII. I knew the basic history, but I wasn't aware that a member of my family was so involved. At the beginning of WWII the Soviet Union annexed Lithuania (which had only recently gotten independence from the Russian Empire) to be used as a buffer from the Nazis. Eventually, the Nazis pushed the Soviets back and took control of Lithuania. Many Lithuanians welcomed the Nazis as liberators, but they soon found that life under German control was no better. When Germany started losing the war, the Soviets took Lithuania again and ruthlessly wiped out their military (in retaliation for not resisting the Nazis). They were killed in battle, placed in forced labor camps in Siberia, or executed. My grandmother's brother, as it turns out, was one of those soldiers. Machute had a photograph of him in his uniform. On the back of the picture was a hand written letter from him after he had been arrested by the Soviets. He explained that conditions were bad, but that some Russian soldiers were kind (that, I presume, is how the letter got out). He went on to say that "millions were dying," but that he was "alive and well." That was the last they ever heard of him. Machute said that my great grandmother believed he was still alive until the day she died, but she said that he was educated and would have been able to find the family after the war even though they had escaped to the United States. In all likelyhood, he was killed shortly after the letter was sent.

Machute also told me about her first husband (who died of a stroke just 14 months after they were married), and about fleeing Lithuania to Germany when the Soviets pushed back in towards the end of the war. But it might be excessive to detail all that here... this is a blog about South Caicos, afterall.

I also had a nice (though brief) visit to Philadelphia on the 4 of July. I decided against updating my Facebook status and Twitter message to let everybody know I was there. I know too many people in that area that would have been upset that I was there but had no time to see them - in all, I was only in Philly for about 11 hours. Jessee parents picked me up at the Greyhound station, and we took a little tour of the city. I never really got to know Philly before, even though it was practically my back yard. Eventually I need to go back and spend some real time there and in Washington D.C. (near my parents), getting to know those places. And, yes, see all my very neglected east coast friends. One of the highlights of the visit was the genuine "east coast style" pizza we got from a place called Lorenzo's and Sons on South Street - they make 28" pies! Pizza is always something I look for when I'm back east (west coast pizza is terrible!). I even got a couple slices during my bus transfer in New York City.

(I just watched an ant crawl into my keyboard. I wonder what that's doing to do to the computer).