The Trip, the Plane, and the Hurricane

Well, I made it!  Still in one piece and all my luggage in tow.  The trip down was a two day affair and a little trying.  My mom, the Nikkis', and PJ all saw me off at the airport as I boarded the first leg of the trip to Miami. 

Nikki, Myself, PJ, Mom, Nikki... almost a palindrome.

The flight was rather uneventful and I sat on the single seat row having both comforts of an aisle and a window.  In hindsight, I should have appreciated this more and spent less time loosing to a computer at Hearts.  This would be my last chance to get any real sleep for the next 48 hours.  I touched down in Miami and curious about how my checked luggage would be handled, sought out the American Airlines rep at the gate.  I explained to her that I was on a two day travel plan and would not be leaving the airport and wanted to make sure my bags followed me to San Juan tomorrow morning.  "Absolutely, sir."  Although to be honest, bells should have been ringing when she didn't even look at my luggage tickets, but I had other things on my mind than double checking her kiosk-competency:  I had roughly twelve hours to kill and was mighty thirsty.  I wondered Miami-Dade for a bit stretching my legs and generally came to the conclusion I need to learn Spanish and people way overdress for the airport.  I finally came to rest near my projected gate for tomorrow in a Jose Cuervo sponsored cantina.  I know what you are thinking, but in a shear act of willpower I stuck to simply sipping beer and picking at overpriced quesadillas until they closed at eleven.  

Ironically, note the TV in the back ground.

Upon my polite ejection, I discovered my gate had changed and began to wonder generally in that direction.  For how busy the airport was all night I was surprised to see how few people where camped out.  I mean spending a night in an airport cant be that bad can it?  Feng Zhenghu spend nearly three months in one; I can do one night half-cocked, right?  No... the seats at the terminals all have armrests, the ground is hard, the AC isn't calibrated for a cooler night.  The night devolved into alternating what part of my body I wanted to make numb and trips to the bathroom.  When the AA rep showed up at the gate that morning I was miserable enough to really soak up the suck that was to follow.  You see when I departed in Louisville the day before, I was only printed that day's ticket.  So I was going to have to get this AA rep to print out my final two boarding passes.  Enter Jose Fernandez... I am not entirely sure whether I owe this guy a handshake or a kick in the teeth, but I know which way I was leaning at the time.  Mr. Fernandez informed me while he printed my tickets that my luggage was only checked as far Miami and he didn't think it was tagged to accompany me.  Good catch Jose: Handshake.  I informed him of the importance that my luggage come with me.  He just stood there, puzzled by the fact that I seemed to expect him to do something.
"You could just go out to the baggage claim and re-check the bags then come back through security"
"Couldn't you just call someone, explain the mistake, and get it taken care of?"
"Who would I call?"
"I don't know, my paychecks don't say American Airlines on them... the baggage claim department, its probably in storage now."

ATR Turboprop... is was awfully nice of Scrooge McDuck to let us borrow it.

Now I could see this guy's mind working as he audibly exhales and slumps.  He really just thinks I am being a pain in the ass.  I mean I do see the guy's argument; at 7 AM, it is a clever way to talk me into doing his job for him.  Scratch that Jose: Fist incoming. I wanted to blow up on him right then and there, but I took stock and realized if I just rechecked the bags myself there was almost a reasonable chance they would get to the same location I was headed.  So, I bolted to the baggage claim, got my 'abandoned' bags out of storage, rechecked them, and went back through security.  I managed not to flip out at ol'Jose as I huffed and puffed my way back to the terminal and departed to San Juan, Puerto Rico.  The flight to San Juan was pretty uneventful and my seat was directly over the wing... so I wasn't able to take any pictures.  It reminded me of a smaller Miami airport: very busy, little English.  Here I bought a $10 ham and cheese sandwich on ciabatta bread; which was not only a rip off, but equally as terrible.  Almost everyone at the terminal to Dominica was a Ross student and people chit-chatted as we filled out our immigration/customs forms. 

Northeast Dominican coast.

We boarded our ATR Turboprop, which of course I had the luxury of sitting next to the propellers.  These vibrated my entire body and where obnoxiously loud the whole time.  Even so, I was able to snap some photos of Dominica once we neared the island.  The landing was actually pretty intense: the end of Melville Hall's single runway faces the water, but instead of an ocean side approach, we landed facing it.  We ridge ran up toward the mountain until banking sharply into a valley headed down to the landing strip.  We stayed nestled here, a mere hundred yards above the trees until we landed some minutes later.  I actually wonder if the peoples pegged us all as firsties (first semesters) and wanted to mess with us... I would have.  Once on the ground we gathered our bags and cleared customs (my effort payed off as all my luggage

Melville Hall Airport

View from my window during approach

 made it).  We must have actually had perfect timing: as we landed it began to sprinkle a bit... this quick ramped up to quite a storm as hurricane Earl just passed by us to the north.  The weather went to absolute crap within an hour.  I managed to snap some pictures, but the hour bus drive to campus through the mountainous jungle intense enough... add in the effects of a nearby hurricane and it was a little tense.  Everyone picked up on this except this guy I nicknamed McLovin... mainly because he talks and acts almost exactly like him.  This guy prattled on and on as our little van was packed to the max with people.

Once we made it to campus, it was 5 pm and as dark as midnight raining very hard.  Ross provided a complimentary dinner: chicken hot dogs on stale bread.  My landlord's brother picked me up shortly after that and took me to my villa.  It may not look like much, but the interior is nice, and having a good clean home base goes a long way in my option.  The following days

 still felt the after effects of Earl and rained on and off, looking generally drab.  I had a little bit of free time to take a few pics of campus and an awesome restaurant I found right by the beach.  There where actually some crazy guys out there surfing the waves the morning after Earl passed... I was a little jealous.  I ordered a authentic Dominican breakfast, which wasn't too bad... but if you ever come here, you better like fish.  Since then, I have been pretty much in various orientations, registrations, and seminars.   Its been pretty motivating and I am eager to start, especially after receiving my 'white coat'.  Its time to put my head down and grind this out.  Thanks everyone for all their support, you all mean the world to me... More to come!

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Last meal before I left: Kentucky Hot Brown

First meal in Dominica: Smoked Herring, tomato and cucumber salad, and some weird biscuit they serve with everything... oh yeah and that's a bottled Coke made with REAL sugar, WIN!

Morning after Earl... still pretty nasty out.

Surfing students after Earl... jerks...

Its an Iguana... he was chill, bought me a beer.

My white coat.