Welcome to Trinidad

After a close to a year of work on the Fulbright and six months of waiting to hear, and another six months of waiting to leave, I am finally here. I could hardly believe it when suddenly it was Thursday night and I was downstairs trying desperately to figure out how ten months of your life fits into two suitcases and a carry-on backpack (and a carry-on shopping bag....don't tell anyone, but you can get away with a shopping bag as a third carry-on!). I did it though, and with a gift of a spectacular sunset over the Caribbean from the plane to tell me I was going to be ok (along with much praying), I landed. And now I'm here.

I'd be lying if I said it was easy, starting life in another country where you know no one. The first couple of days were especially hard, as, well, it's overwhelming. But gradually, I am settling into the country and learning the patience required to begin the project. I interview tomorrow with what may be the place from where most of my patients come, and I am considering an apartment in downtown San Fernando (that I can't move into until November 1) if all goes well there. I finally have a phone, and I will be going to a Bible class tomorrow night, so I am finally getting out to meet people as well. Oh, and lest I forget her, Dr. Brathwaite, my in-country adviser, is wonderful as far as helping me make connections and find things to do, and she is always making sure I am ok. Stanley, the man who cares for her second house in San Fernando is also wonderful, taking me everywhere I need to go this week.

So what's it like? My impressions of driving it in the dark with Stanley Friday night were that it was a mix of Phnom Penh and the US--which I suppose makes sense as Trinidad is right between the two as a developing nation. It's tropical, but there are not as many palm trees as you'd expect (though there are some beautiful white flowers along with banana trees and mango trees behind the house). It's an oil nation, so en route to the shopping center, there were towers with flames dancing atop them (like giant torches with a skinny base) in our line of vision. Fruit stands with dangling bananas and apples and more dot the side of the road every few miles. Cars are "right hand drive," which takes a bit of getting used to, though the traffic is not terrifying because it is 90% saner than the traffic in Phnom Penh, what with the motor bikes flying everywhere. The English the Trini speak is not difficult for me to follow (at least not now, but I haven't spoken to many), but those I have talked to are either workers or know I speak American English so tone down the dialect. It's certainly hot--and muggy (I envy all those experiencing fall!), but I now have a fan at night, which helps a lot, and also helps with the mosquitoes (no screens; I woke up my first morning covered in bites, some of which turned into welts...oh, those Southern mosquitoes!). The country is really lovely. All those with whom I've been emailing have been so kind, as have Stanley and Dr. Brathwaite. There are a lot of wide open spaces, especially as you head into the more rural areas, so you can look over what once were sugar cane fields and watch the clouds build and taper, and know the sea is out there. From the high points in San Fernando, you can look out and see the ocean beyond the city, a beautiful blue-green with oil tankers the only obstacles to unobstructed blueness and sea-meets-sky harmony. From the right spots on the island, you can even see Venezuela on a clear day.

I know I will learn to love Trinidad. It's not perfect, and I didn't have that immediate this is where I'm supposed to be as I did in Cambodia, but I know still it's where I am supposed to be. I look forward to having a place of my own, and a routine, and getting to know people. I most look forward to the point where I call someplace here home by accident. That's when I'll know. Stay tuned, let me know how you all are doing! God bless, and thanks for listening :)