At SXM
200213.15.33
The plane circles the sea several times, each time the flight attendant said would the final approach. The runway at Princess Juliana International does not have a taxiway. So basically as soon as a plane lands, it must do a u-turn and taxi on the runway toward the terminal. This causes delays in take off and landings, especially as it is one of the most used airports in the Caribbean.
Pristine, tranquil aquamarine waters cuddled the the shores. The sense of anticipation and numb excitement grew in me. I hardly slept two hours as I was woken up by a phone call. The two flights were short, but I was drifting in and out of consciousness and disoriented. The birthday get away had finally begun, but I was so very exhausted, so drained of energy and feeling, especially after yesterday's group counseling session.
I never imagined I'd be in the Caribbean region, much less find myself on Dutch soil where it doesn't rain (as often) and where people of all races live in relative harmony. There was a special line at immigration, for citizens of St Maarten/St Martin and Dutch citizens. I literally whizzed through it while all the rest waited in huge queues. I did have difficulty understanding what the immigration officer was saying, for we accent was so heavy and I wasn't sure if she Dutch or English to me.
I took a taxi to get to my hotel. The man, not much older than me, ranted and raved about the dispatcher giving him only one customer for such a long distance drive. He's a relatively new taxi driver, and says those dispatchers are corrupt in that they give their friends and family more customers, and also give more business to those willing to "pay". He's not like that, he said.
We chatted about local life and life as an Antillean. Turns out, he went to the Netherlands to study to be an electrician. They put him to work as a gardener at a zoo instead. He did have one good thing to say about the Dutch, except perhaps that they are extremely xenophobic and racist. Antilleans indeed get the brunt of blame for all social ills, are treated like second class citizens, even though they have full citizenship rights.
I looked out the window, at the many bays and mountains, at the vast open sea and imagined the "motherland" so far far away. This is a part of the Netherlands, and yet it is anything but Dutch. The weather to begin with, and the people too. Though its only been two hours or so, I feel this is a special place that can grow on you...
200213.15.33
The plane circles the sea several times, each time the flight attendant said would the final approach. The runway at Princess Juliana International does not have a taxiway. So basically as soon as a plane lands, it must do a u-turn and taxi on the runway toward the terminal. This causes delays in take off and landings, especially as it is one of the most used airports in the Caribbean.
Pristine, tranquil aquamarine waters cuddled the the shores. The sense of anticipation and numb excitement grew in me. I hardly slept two hours as I was woken up by a phone call. The two flights were short, but I was drifting in and out of consciousness and disoriented. The birthday get away had finally begun, but I was so very exhausted, so drained of energy and feeling, especially after yesterday's group counseling session.
I never imagined I'd be in the Caribbean region, much less find myself on Dutch soil where it doesn't rain (as often) and where people of all races live in relative harmony. There was a special line at immigration, for citizens of St Maarten/St Martin and Dutch citizens. I literally whizzed through it while all the rest waited in huge queues. I did have difficulty understanding what the immigration officer was saying, for we accent was so heavy and I wasn't sure if she Dutch or English to me.
I took a taxi to get to my hotel. The man, not much older than me, ranted and raved about the dispatcher giving him only one customer for such a long distance drive. He's a relatively new taxi driver, and says those dispatchers are corrupt in that they give their friends and family more customers, and also give more business to those willing to "pay". He's not like that, he said.
We chatted about local life and life as an Antillean. Turns out, he went to the Netherlands to study to be an electrician. They put him to work as a gardener at a zoo instead. He did have one good thing to say about the Dutch, except perhaps that they are extremely xenophobic and racist. Antilleans indeed get the brunt of blame for all social ills, are treated like second class citizens, even though they have full citizenship rights.
I looked out the window, at the many bays and mountains, at the vast open sea and imagined the "motherland" so far far away. This is a part of the Netherlands, and yet it is anything but Dutch. The weather to begin with, and the people too. Though its only been two hours or so, I feel this is a special place that can grow on you...
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