Trinidad

St. Louis to Trinidad
Thursday - July 13, 2006

If I had another three months to prepare, I suspect I would find myself in the same state the night before departure. The past year has been an eventful one. This wording is my desperate attempt to avoid placing value on the whole experience. In spite of overcommitment, unexpected problems with my parents health and passing of my mother, and the normal course of my life in recent years, I still should have been thoroughly packed and ready to depart for a month-long trip to the tropics at least several days prior to departure. I should have been. As it turned out, Dirk, Kelly, and I were still adjusting the weight of our suitcases and discussing plans for the trip until about 10 p.m. last night. I realized that I still had some online banking to complete, and there were several projects that were largely finished but not polished. These matters needed my attention at least several days before departure. Having given myself false assurance that every event that could possibly occur had been foreseen and adequately addressed, I climbed into bed around 1:30 a.m. Even in the midst of my son, Logan, and three of his friends clamoring into the house after midnight, Dirk had drifted off to sleep some time earlier. We were to meet at the SWIC metro-link station at 5:00, so it seemed that a couple of hours of sleep would suffice until I reached the airport at which point I would be able to sleep for hours on a long set of flights to Trinidad.

Having addressed thoroughly all of those last minute particulars the night before, I was certain to be prepared for this trip. Certain but incorrect as I discovered, at the metro-link station shortly before our train would arrive, that I did not have my passport with me. Perhaps I could have left that extra pair of underwear I packed and the international communication card (the one with pictures of important things to point at such as pigs, condoms, and backgammon boards) that I made sure was in the money belt, but the leaving the passport behind would have started a long chain of inconveniences and embarrassments. Fortunately, Logan – who had no more sleep than myself – was coherent enough to remember that I had placed in on the scanner at home and likely forgot to take it off after making copies. With a speedy trip home, I returned (with passport in hand) just in time to meet the Zalocuskys and catch the train. Goodbyes are never easy, but I sensed that Donna, Carly and Logan were genuinely excited for my opportunities on this trip and were able and willing to put the goals of the work in Suriname above their emotions for seeing my leave. I thank them dearly for that.

After an airport breakfast and a nice conversation with Mike and Chris Zalocusky, we said a second round of goodbyes and headed through security. Feeling comfortable that I had made through the detector with no beeps, I was alarmed when security pulled me to the side with my carry-on which I soon discovered had a set of clippers, scissors, file, etc. I could have sworn that was in my check-in bag. Nevertheless, security removed a benign-looking instrument, left the clippers, scissors, and sharp-point file … and then I was sent on my way to the airplane. Ay Baja! The nation’s security rules continue to perplex me.

The flight to Houston was relatively short and uneventful … other than the fact that I, once again, had to sit in the single row of seats which gave Dirk and Kelly a chance to remind me that that this row was reserved for bigger middle-aged men to help balance out the plane. Flying to Trinidad was took a while longer but allowed for more sleep. Not exactly like being on a posturepedic mattress, but it was sleep nonetheless.

My image of Trinidad as quite, relatively uninhabited island nation was shattered upon arrival. Airport chaos is expected everywhere, but passing through customs was not too painful here. However, after meeting Dirk’s friend, Noryan, we piled into a taxi van and departed for the Pax Guest House on Mt. St. Benedict. I will simply say that I may never complain about traffic again. Narrow streets, left-side driving, pedestrians, bicycles, and dogs would be one set of concerns, but the speed at which the van maneuvered around all these obstacles – even when going up winding roads on the mountain – left us slightly nauseous.

The roller coaster ride was worth it, however, as the Pax House is in a beautiful setting with an amazing diversity of plants and birds. Avocados and mangos hanging right outside the window were clear reminders that I had entered into a tropical zone. The night temperature is surprisingly pleasant and I think I will sleep well tonight. I certainly miss my family, but I look forward to bringing new stories home to them. I retire now with gratitude for all those who have been supportive in various ways in the preparation for this experience.