Dawning of a New Age

For about a dozen years, I have looked at life through a particular metaphor. I've never been much of a surfer but I know how powerful and impressive waves can be. The way I have seen it is that you have a surf board and every obstacle in life is a wave. Either stand up and take a glorious ride or bob up and down watching all the excitement of life pass by. Of course in deciding to ride a wave, there is a serious inherent danger of falling off and being churned around and eaten up alive completely at the mercy of the raging waves.

I've been silent about many serious apprehensions about moving to St Maarten. My biggest worries have been seeded in lack of communication, not knowing where to stay, not knowing who to talk to upon arrival, and not knowing where to look for work. Unlike my preparations in moving to the Philippines and Indonesia that involved sending out about 50 emails each, I have only contacted one person in St Maarten, and he is currently on holiday in France. When I tried to phone the crew housing (budget housing geared toward any crew members working on the island) before leaving Sydney, none of the three numbers resulted in an answer. Going to Gili Trawangan, I was not worried about finding a place to live: the island is set up for backpackers and I found a place my first day for $100/month. From what I've heard about St Maarten and the other Caribbean islands, cheap hotels can go for $200/night. Needless to say, the lack of certainty was terribly daunting as I packed and geared up for my marathon flight.

Upon arrival to Hawaii, I stuck to my plan of immediately finding a phone to call St Maarten. After a 30 minute quest to find a phone, I was able to convince the crew at American Airlines to let me use their private staff room to make the calls. As if it was written, it wasn't until the third call (remember I was given only 3 numbers) that I got an answer, but boy what an answer it was. The woman on the other end of the phone informed me that her crew house was full but upon asking if there was another place I could stay, she offered to personally find me a place to stay and set me up with an address to give customs upon entry into the country when filling out the arrival paperwork. The plan was to call her upon arrival in St Maarten and find out where to go. I promptly got in touch with my cousin Meg (thanks again to the generosity of my new American Airlines friends) and organized to meet for lunch. Meg is the cousin I lived with for two months in Hawaii while her husband Conor was in Afghanistan. Thankfully, the three of us we were able to meet up for about 45 minutes for sushi near the airport.

I was so happy that I was practically dancing through the airport. Every detail is falling right into place. Boy did I ever catch that wave. I am riding one of the biggest meanest curling waves of my life with joy and excitement pumping through my veins as I stand on my board like a professional accepting all risk and embracing every bit of the exhilarating ride.