This is a personal journal in a public space, kept by Jessica Moyer and Brett Matulis. We are not so vain as to believe that complete strangers are interested in our daily lives. Rather, this blog was created when we decided to move to the British West Indies. It is intended to serve as a way for us to share news, post photos, and eventually, revisit memories. It was created for us and for those of our friends and families that are interested in our lives on the remote island of South Caicos.
Today started out rough, but it definitely wasn't a total loss. I went out snorkeling for the first time. We went across to the near end of Long Cay to a place called Shark Alley. It's a narrow place between South Caicos and the Cay where the current is stronger and sharks and rays congregate. We didn't see the Eagle Rays we were after, but we did see a Sting Ray, a Nurse Shark, several Barracuda, tons of coral, and loads of tropical fish.
The water was quite rough, and I actually felt a bit seasick after a while. That's never happened to me IN the water before (I've been seasick in the water once, but it was caused when I was still on the boat). I brought my underwater camera, but I didn't use it much. I'm not confident in the integrity of the underwater case, and after the loss of my computer, I wasn't much in the mood to lose another piece of equipment. I did test it out, and it appears to have done okay. You can see a sample above.
I started this morning off with a hefty serving of toasted circuits à la jackhammer. What I mean is my computer got fried in a power surge. I turned it on and heard it start up from the other room, but when I returned there was only a "blue screen." I'm blaming it on the jackhammer because that started up in the period when I wasn't standing in front of my computer. Later on I noticed the "third prong" of the jackhammer was broken off, and I'm pretty sure that's what caused the surge. Anyhow, my computer is caput.
It's really frustrating to lose something expensive like that, but it's not new and I just recently backed up my photos and documents, so I didn't lose any important data. Now I have to use Jessee's frustratingly slow computer. I can't even get a new one because there's no way to ship it here. The only way would be to purchase it online and have Jessee carry it back when she returns to Massachusetts at the end of August for her first aid recertification. But for now, I'm just going to have to make do.
Today was the last day for students in Summer Session I. Jessee took the group this morning to Provo and she'll return this evening (which means two flights on the rickety island connector plane in one day). I stayed behind and went to the clinic to get a blood test for the visa, and then explored the town.
Some wild horses outside our back porch.
Blood work: Ouch!
The main road on South Caicos. They drive on the left, but the steering wheel is also on the left.
A ruined building left over from the salt industry, probably made worse in hurricane Ike.
The edge of town.
The public marina.
The Center, where we live.
The bay outside our place.
Day 1:
We joined the students on their last visit to Sandy Point on Long Cay (pronounced Long Key). It was low tide, so there wasn't as much swimming as there was wallowing. The water is so incredibly warm! I was thinking the whole time about my last chilly dip in Ross Lake.
The boat ride. Look at that water!
Sandy Point
"Bob," the iguana. I think he should be renamed Iggy. Or, if she's a she, Alana the Iguana.
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.
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).
Last night some of the SFS staff and students attended the graduation of the high school here on South Caicos. It was facinating, and seemed to me to be one of the most joyful events on the island that I've experienced thus far. There were only 21 graduating seniors in all, one of whom is college-bound and set to leave SC in the next few weeks, yet somehow the awards ceremony went on for hours and hours. (I don't know exactly how many because I left after 3 of them, but even back at the SFS center a few blocks away I could hear talking and cheers and music coming through the PA system up until I fell asleep after midnight.) Several government officials, alumni, and other dignitaries gave speeches. The keynote speaker's address included a complete recitation of Dr. Seuss' Oh, the Places You'll Go!, which of course made me think of Dave because he gave me a copy of that book just before I got on a plane to come down here, a handful of famous quotes (by Marcus Garvey, Tupac Shakur, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Obama), references to the hardships brought on by hurricane Ike intermixed with pleas for money and 'thank yous to previous donors, and quite an impressive collection of cliches and mixed metaphors. My favorite of the latter was, "Don't forget that you are walking in the footsteps of the giants whose shoulders you stand on." I had to snap myself out of a brief daydream about over-sized contortionists after that one.
I was struck by the many constrasts between the ceremony here and that of my own high school graduation. There were many prayers incorporated into last night's speeches, introductions, and musical interludes despite the school being a public institution, but even more impressionable were the repeated warnings that without God, our Heavenly Father, by your side every step of the way, you have no hope for salvation or a life of righteousness or any degree of future success. Another difference between my graduation and this one was evident in the general tone of the event. Instead of "Congratulations! Reach for the stars! You can be anything you want to be!", the message last night was "Congratulations!", yes, but also: You are sure to face adversity over and over again throughout your lifetime, but do not succumb to the evils of temptation, apathy, and violence. The boys were instructed to be law-abiding citizens and advised that "it's okay to not smoke weed". The girls were encouraged not to get pregnant right away, but to wait until they have the means to raise a family properly. (No word to the boys on their role in either pregnancy or parenting.) All were cautioned that "AIDS is real, and it's out there!"
"We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust our sails" was the official theme of the graduation ceremony. An empowering message that clearly resonated with the audience, evoking enthusiastic nods, cheers, applause, and, especially from the older generations, murmurs of understanding and agreement. The phrase was painted onto the backdrop behind the stage and reiterated by every single one of the speakers. A passage intended to demonstrate the value of being a "realist" was also worked into a couple of the speeches, and reinforced the theme. It went something like this: When the wind begins to blow hard in an off-course direction, the pessimist gives up, accepting the inevitable, and the optimist waits, expecting the winds to change, but it is the realist who adjusts his sail.
I made it - I'm in East Schodack, NY. Finally. And safely, despite the final leg being on an Airbus A319 (the make of planes that have been crashing lately). I was excited earlier because I was supposed to be on Boeing jets only today.
If you don't post to a blog regularly, it's a bit overwhelming to get caught up on all the events that took place. But I'll do my best to give a recap here. My last trek with Gray Wolf was a good one. It started out with some great sunny, warm weather. And (as I actually hoped it would) ended cold, dreary, and rainy - that way leaving would be that much easier.
Highlights of the trip included sightings of an owl and several loons, the out-maneuvering and out-witting of the residents bent on soaking me with their bilge pumps while kayaking, an epic stick-sword fight with Jud, some freestyle "rap battles" (sorry, to protect anonymity of the GWR residents, and my dignity, the video of this will not be posted on YouTube), use of my WFR First Aid training, and the last time (for a long while) that swimming will involve withstanding 45-50ºF water.
The first aid I had to give was to a wound on the wrist of a resident that had slipped coming down from Desolation Fire Lookout. It was a pretty nasty cut - deep and dirty. Half an inch to the right and it would have hit an artery and been spurting blood! As it was, it took quite a bit to stop the bleeding. It was the first time I had to do any serious field treatment. It was a bit nerve wracking at first, but as I got it under control I found it a bit difficult to hide that I was enjoying myself (it's not everyday you get to treat something like that)! Unfortunately, I don't have pictures - I thought it would have been a bit insensitive to excitedly ask somebody to get my camera. Because the wound was so deep and and dirt filled (irrigation only did so much and picking out grains of dirt with tweezers was made difficult by the amount of blood) and because infection would have been unavoidable, I decided to evacuate him. This was made easier by the fact that we had a van and staff member already at the transfer point to deal with the boats. The only complication is that the only road out from there was through Canada. There's no border control station at that crossing (because the road dead-ends at the park), so getting him into Canada was no problem. But getting him back into the US without ID and with outstanding felonies on his record presented a potential problem. Luckily, it was out of my hands by that point. Now the GWR trek program director is a practiced human trafficker (I should probably be clear that I'm joking here; they actually had already alerted the border patrol and faxed the necessary documents. Even still, it took 4 hours to get him back into the States).
After trek, I did my laundry, had my last (gourmet) GWR meal, packed my bicycle trailer and headed back to Kelly's to put the last of my things into storage, say goodbye to Kelly and the dogs, and catch the airporter shuttle to SEATAC.
My destination was Naples, Florida - to visit my grandfather. It was a good visit, centered primarily around whichever fancy restaurant we chose each evening (ever since my grandmother passed away there has been a great lack of culinary expertise in the household). We talked about history, classical music, and set up his brand new laptop computer, which included a lesson in making calls via Skype so that we can talk once I'm on the island - we even got to talk with Jessee briefly a couple of times! Midway through my visit, my mom and step-dad arrived, and we all put my grandfather's living room to good use (which my grandfather noted is seldom used these days because he rarely has enough guests to fill it).
Wednesday morning, then, began my epic journey northward. Everything went smoothly until we taxied out to the runway on the final of my three (scheduled) flights to Albany. Then it all went awry, the details of which are explained in my previous post.
01 July 2009
How, extactly, did I end up in Detroit? Remember that scene in Fight Club where Edward Norton starts losing his mind and transforming into Tyler Durden, his delusional alter ego? He would fall asleep on planes and wake up in cities he never remembered traveling to - all the while his other self was building a cult-like following to bring down the world's banking system. It would make for a great story if I could say that's what happened to me, but unfortunately my day was much less exciting than that. And besides, the banks in real life have seemed to do a good enough job bringing themselves down.
I did, however, have a confusing and somewhat ammusing experience at a layover at Washington/Dulles airport. I boarded my connecting flight on time - the third flight in my journey from Fort Myers, Florida to Albany, New York - and taxied out to the runway. There, the takeoff was delayed due to thunderstorms north of us. Since I had gotten up at 4am, I had no trouble falling asleep. I woke up having slept soundly for what seemed to be a long time. I checked the time, and it was about 15 minutes past our scheduled landing. I looked outside and noticed we were on the ground. Was I already at my destination? I didn't know! Either it had been the smoothest flight I'd ever been on, or we hadn't moved for nearly two hours. I couldn't tell you! I was a bit embarrased to ask too. So I sat there trying to pick up on clues from other passengers and the flight attendants. Eventually, the captain got on the PA and announced that we were, indeed, still in Washington D.C., and that we were now going back to the gate because the air traffic tower couldn't guarantee we'd be going at all. I sat on that plane for almost 2 and half hours for nothing - ARRGH!!
After another hour in the terminal, the flight was eventaully cancelled outright. I guess there were some pretty serious storms between D.C. and Albany. They annouced that we should report to customer service for re-booking. Knowing that everybody on the plane was about to descend on their limited customer service staff, I got up and ran! I was first in line, and good thing too. There were only three spots left on a flight to Albany through Detroit. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't have been able to get to Albany until 10pm the next day! As it is, I'm not even sure this plane will be able to get to Albany, but things are looking optimistic. Enough time has passed that the storms should have moved through, and the departure screens say "on time." I'm choosing not to think about the fact that by the time I get to East schodack (where my grandmother lives) the trip will have taken about 10 hours more than it should have.
Posts
