Grenada Day 1

Ok folks. Chapter 3.

After my tribulations in Trinidad, big turnaround!

From the time I got on to the flight to Grenada, things seemed to work. I don’t know whether it was the surrendering that did it, or if I did something to make her (God) happy.  Easy flight. Through Immigration in a flash and found Brian M waiting for me at the door of the terminal with our transportation ready to go. Certainty is such a blessing. And long silent hugs work wonders for the sole, not just for him, also for me.

Admittedly the drive to the hotel was one of those narrow-curvy-island-road-in-the-dark-death-defying-drives the Caribbean islands are famous for. If you’ve done one of those, you know what I’m talking about. Although I was in the back seat, I was still slamming my foot on the brake every once in a while as I was sure we were doomed. I mean I didn’t just think we were going to crash, I knew we were. But somehow miraculously – 44 switchbacks later - we arrived at the hotel unscathed. Wow! Talk about surrendering. So I lived to say that part of the trip sort of, worked, in a way.

Now upon arrival, the whole welcome at the hotel was gracious, caring, and effortless. The couple that owns the hotel came and introduced themselves as we bellied up to the bar and couldn’t have been more wonderful. And a couple of Margaritas later Brian M and I were in a deep and intimate conversation for healing – one of those ones where you can cut the shared grief with a knife. Of course since the occurring so shapes our conversations and actions, we began to right away, dig into that. Brian was drinking iced tea. And for me the margaritas definitely helped get the process going.

There are so many people impacted by this, including of course the hotel guests here, the owners, and most of all, Jess’s family back in the U.S. In some ways it seems it may be even harder for them to deal with as they are left to do so from a distance. There's no direct actions for them to take. It's almost complete helpless and grief for them. All the healing, forgiveness, the second guessing, the anger, the guilt – all that morass of emotions - will take a long while to play out and get complete for everyone directly impacted by this. The process of healing is just beginning. And it has begun.

We’ll be meeting with the authorities this afternoon to recreate this whole incident. Not an easy conversation to have. I don’t quite know what to expect.

On another note, Ziggy is the younger of two cats (and two dogs) roaming the grounds of this establishment. He’s a Tiger cat like the last one Anne and I had. He found and instantly adopted me this morning. He follows me around, meows constantly, rubs himself against my leg, and purrs when I scratch his ears and head. He’s been in my room, up on my bed, and napped on my shorts that were laying there. It’s occurred to me that maybe he’s an angel, sent to watch out for me. Or he could just be a cat that likes his ears scratched! I don’t no.

The glories of Trinidad

Started out this morning at 7 AM after finally getting to my hotel around 1:30. The wakening time wasn’t my choice, it was brought about by hammering and sawing noises from the floor below. Turns out I was the ONLY person staying at that hotel last night. I should have expected something like that when my cab driver and I had to bang on the gate and honk the horn for 5 minutes to wake up the guard to let me in when we arrived in the wee small hours. This hotel is a conference center hotel up in the mountains about 45 minutes and 70 USd from the airport.

This morning it took running the water about 10 minutes to get it warm enough to take a shower. Probably a good sign that there weren’t many people staying at this place. But in my stupor I was clueless. It finally became apparent when I got to the dining room and no one else was there. The yet-untouched buffet breakfast turned out to be cold scrambled eggs and cold bacon, but the coffee & toast were good.

On the way back up to my room, the elevator suddenly stopped between the 2^nd and 3^rd floors. I rang the alarm bell and yelled for help for 15 minutes before anyone bothered to check on my disturbances. A guy came and finally pried the doors open from the floor below. I had to slide down and out into his arms as he helped lower me to the 2^nd floor. That was probably more of a workout than he was expecting.

Back in my room I emailed Anne & Christine to check if they were able to send off my cell phone to Grenada by Fedex, and to bring them up to speed on my whereabouts and tribulations. I included a plea to get me the hell out of here.

The hotel called a local cab to take me to the airport. It turned out Cynthia-who-likes-to-sing, as I called her was a fun driver. She told me there are a couple hotels right near the airport where I could have stayed, but the booking service “likes to send unsuspecting rich Americans like me” to the hotel where I was. She’s pretty sure there’s some sort of family connection or nefarious goings on there. But she’s happy cause she gets cab business from the hotel since she lives near it. The return trip took almost an hour since you understand, unlike my trip to the hotel at 1 AM, there was now traffic to contend with.

So when I get to the airport at 11 AM I find out there is only one flight to Grenada & that’s at 9 PM, assuming we don’t have a hurricane come through beforehand. SOOoo I check in and resign myself to sit out the 10 hours, only to discover that there is not one, mind you, NOT ONE bookshop in the whole dammed terminal. I’ve already read the two books I bought yesterday at the Raleigh airport, so now the only thing I get to do is to use the one working tool I have, my laptop, to share and torture y’all.

The dammed terminal is freezing! So much so that I have to don a long sleeved shirt and long pants to stay warm. I finally get a reply email from Anne telling me she’s tried to ship my cell phone to Grenada by Fedex only to find they deliver there. So she’s shipped it off by International mail but to Grenada the fastest service is between 3 & 5 working days, so it may arrive after I leave for home next week. Of course!

Along about now I find an email from Christine. My therapist daughter tells me I have to surrender to being helpless and vulnerable rather than upset and maddened. She says that will flip the universe to support me in my travels rather than punishing me as it has been doing. AND, Oh by-the-way, she says she charges 90 bucks for this kind of therapeutic coaching, thank you.

Ok, ok. I surrender!

Shortly after I capitulate, I take a walk to stretch my aching old legs and spy a food kiosk down at the end of the terminal. It turns out that they have a cappuccino machine! Wow! Completely unexpected! So here I sit on my sore ass, torturing y’all, but bathed in warm sunshine coming through a sun drenched window near the food kiosk, enjoying a cappuccino & some Chips Ahoy cookies. Life seems good. Maybe surrendering works.

However, I’m still not sure I’m willing to give up complaining.

I Caught Your Act

I caught your act!
And it was superb!
And I won't tell!
I promise.

I saw the fear behind the smile.
I noticed when you left a while.
When you came back, I heard the laugh,
to pretend for us you hadn't left.
When you felt wronged I saw the glare,
the anguish in that intent stare.
When you felt right I saw the gleam,
that signaled return of your esteem.

As I watched you perform,
I wondered if this was the norm.
And what I wondered silently,...
was my act as obvious to thee?