Category Archives: Spouses Organization

Caribbean Carnival Children’s Parade

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The air around me pulses with the rhythm of the Caribbean. All around me, the crowd lining the street moves to the beat of the music. This is not America, where we stood stoically and watched parade floats drift by. This is the isle of Sint Maarten, and we are a part of the sound and color here.

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Today, it is a holiday. It is Carnival, and the children are marching in their very own parade. Miniature dancers twirl in miniature costumes, nearly unrecognizable in paint, feathers, and glitter.

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The winners of last week’s junior pageant are here, dressed in their royal finery. They wave to us with the queen’s wave, and we wave back.

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The parade is filled with the heroes of a child’s word– princesses, super heroes, minions, even Kung Fu Panda!

My personal favorite were the candy dancers. I loved their giant hoop skirts and sweet designs.

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Ben liked the Lionfish Dancers. Their costumes really did look like the fantastic “feathers” of a lionfish!

Although this event was not popular with the tourists, hundreds of locals turned out. Many of the other expat families also came to watch! Some American University of the Caribbean students’ children came to watch friends march in the parade.

If you want to see the future of the Caribbean, this is the place to come. All around me, I saw the future of the islands in the faces of the children. If we want to invest in tomorrow, we must invest in them! Perhaps the whole reason for the junior parade is to remind us of this.

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A Year Ago at Disney

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It’s hard to believe that we only have a year left on this island. Equally hard to believe is that a year ago, we were at Disney land! Looking back to our trip to Disney puts time in perspective for me. Sometimes if feels like our time on Sint Maarten is an eternal summer that can never end, but our time here is not so very long after all. I don’t know if that makes me happy or sad. I do look forward to a new season and actually being able to have a job, but I don’t want to leave the friends and the life I’ve made here. Time just keeps ticking on.

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The reason we went to California was because of Ben’s interview for American University of the Caribbean. We drove six hours to LA (and then another three through LA for the last twenty miles to the interview location) from Phoenix for the interview and a getaway weekend. At first, we weren’t sure if Disney tickets were a wise financial decision, since our med school location was still up in the air at that point. But my parents decided that we needed to go– especially since Ben had never been to a Disney park. So they gave us tickets!

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Of course, we had an awesome time at Disney Land. It had been a decade since I’d been, so we discovered it together. I had the layout of Minnie Mouse’s house memorized, but I didn’t even remember that Frontierland exists! The fireworks were rained out, but we were able to see something better– the Abe Lincoln show. Seriously, that’s the best part of Disneyland. After Rapunzel, of course.

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Awesome cup of coffee at Nam– champion latte designers!

Ben nailed his interview. A few weeks later, we knew where we were going to go for med school: some faraway island called Sint Maarten where people stood on the beach and let airplanes fly a few hundred feet above their heads.

We started planning. We had no idea what life would look like. No idea what our home would be, who our community would be, what we’d do in our free time. Everything was behind the next door, and we couldn’t wait to step through it.

We’re kind of in the same boat now. In a year, we’ll leave again. We don’t know what life will look like or where we’ll be headed.

A year ago, we were at Disney. A year from now, we’ll be getting ready to move again. Life changes fast. I don’t want to miss the moment I’m in now. Sometimes, I just wish away time so I can get to the next new and exciting thing. But I know I need to hold on to each precious season and moment. There are so many years of change and adventure ahead, but I’ll never get this day back! So I’ll make the most of it.

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Driving on the “Friendly” Island

I’m not sure if the crazy driving on Saint Martin contributes to the island’s nickname or if it totally destroys it.

To be honest, I don’t often miss the triple-lane freeways of Phoenix, although there are some days that I’d give anything to be flying at 70 miles per hour on an overpass. Saint Martin has one main single-lane road going all the way around the island. A wandering cow in Cole Bay can cause a man commuting from Philipsburg to be late for dinner. It doesn’t help that the driving culture is generally pretty reckless and spontaneous.

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Fortunately, you never really get over 40 mph on the entire island, so collisions usually aren’t too serious. And they do happen often! The ordeal of waiting a few hours for officials to show up and do paperwork is not worth it in most cases, so people usually dust themselves off and keep going. I’ve seen a motorcyclist collide at an intersection in front of me and go flying over the top of my hood, pick himself up, climb back on his bike, and zoom off on the center lane while the freshly-dented sports car rolled along on its way.

Standstill traffic is normal, too. I have literally put my car in park in the middle of the street, locked it, taken my dog on a short walk, and come back to my car just in time while waiting for the bridge in Simpson Bay to go down.

My drive today was particularly aggravating, so I switched my brain from “American time” to “island time” and sat back to enjoy the entertainment of the crazy roads.

First, I drove through a construction zone in Maho. Traffic on both sides of the road was at a complete standstill as two people traveling opposite directions had stopped to chat. One lady even got out of her car to walk up to the window of the other driver’s car! We all had to wait a couple minutes as they finished their conversation before we could continue on.

Next, I watched as someone in front of me became impatient with the slow traffic, pulled out into the opposite lane, and drove on the wrong side of the road until he could see the source of the jam and slide back into the right lane. I thought I was going to watch someone die of a head-on collision.

A bus driver stopped in the middle of traffic to pick up a woman who was waiting, but not at a bus stop.

After this, someone went halfway through a round-a-bout backwards to turn into a driveway rather than going all the way around.

Then, someone flashed me and zoomed in front of me so they could do a left-hand turn in front of me, although I was already halfway blocking the turn and nobody was behind me.

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Going up a hill, a group of bicyclists were holding up traffic as they slowly pedaled to the top.

At the bottom of the hill, a funeral procession had parked in one of the lanes, totally preventing traffic from going up the hill. A limousine was leading the caravan and has simply parked in front of the cemetery. People in suits were milling around the road as behind them, cars waited at least a quarter mile back. I wanted to roll down my window and suggest to the poor commuters to try a different route home, but I opted instead to turn down my Caribbean jams out of respect for the funeral and leave the drivers to their long wait.

Once in Philipsburg, a bus made an impossible turn through moving traffic as other drivers maneuvered around him. I waved to a little boy I know as he and his mom passed me on the road– walking.

People jumped out into the road to cross it and just assumed we’d all stop for them. And we do.

Everywhere I went, people slowed to wave and call out to each other, bus drivers greeted one another with a honk, and greetings flew from pedestrians to drivers and back.Sonesta Resort

Like I said, I’m not sure if this craziness proves that the island is friendly or if it proves that it’s not.

I’ve just decided to just stay as safe as possible and accept it for what it is. After all, I’m the foreigner here and I need to adapt. Even if that means driving five miles per hour, watching bikers fly past me on the center line, dodging goats, and smiling all the way!

 

 

Underwater Egg Hunt

How chances will I have to do an Easter egg hunt underwater? Not many! Each year, Divi Little Bay Resort hosts an egg hunt to support the Sint Maarten Nature Foundation.

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The Sint Maarten Nature Foundation does a lot of good work to protect the island’s ecosystem. I briefly wrote about some of their activities in my article for Seven Seas Magazine. 

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The hunt was not just for a good cause, it was also incredibly fun! Imagine hundreds of people of all ages on the beach, outfitted with snorkel masks and fins, ready to collect 1,000 painted eggs hiding under the crystal-clear surface of the water.

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It was a little bit cut-throat! People are competitive. I went with the other strong swimmers to the deepest area, which seemed to be about 15 feet deep. I strained my eyes for glimpses of color peeking out from the gray-green floor of the ocean and managed to grab seven eggs. Fish flitted back and forth below us, unnerved by the sudden influx of human activity in the water.

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In the shallow area, small children hunted for eggs in knee-deep water.

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At the end, there was a giant raffle with dozens of amazing prizes, ranging from inflatable pool toys to a tow-day stay for two at Divi Little Bay Resort. It was my lucky day– I won two prizes! One was a lunchbox full of beach items and the other was a free sailing lesson with a Sun Bum hat.

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What a great thing to do on Easter Monday! I’ll be back next year for certain.

The Trainless Island

What do you do when you have twelve kids who love trains but have never seen a real one? You take them on a train ride, of course!

The island of Saint Martin doesn’t have a train, but the kids from Player Development SXM know a lot about them anyway. Each day, these boys and girls gather on the little league field to practice for baseball games and improve their academic skills. Many days, my friends and I join them to help with reading and math or coaching.

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When practice and homework is done, the kids run inside the repurposed shipping container that serves as their clubhouse to play with their favorite toy: the model train set.

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The kids are excited, because this summer, they get to ride a real train. In August, they’ll be packing their bags for the long trip to Toronto, where many dreams will come true. They get to watch a Blue Jays game, see Niagara falls, play against a Canadian little league team, and ride a real train for the first time. For their homework, some of the kids have written about their hopes for the upcoming adventure:

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For many of the kids, this will be their first time off the 37 square-mile island.

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Many of the kids dream of being a pro ball player, and this will be the first time they get to witness a major-league game.

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This is a really big deal for them.

The logo for the team is, of course, a train. Coach Tom asked me to design it for the team, and my friend Andrea made it into a t-shirt for the kids to wear during the trip.

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Like it? You can actually buy one for yourself, or send one to one of our kids! All the proceeds of the purchase also go toward the kids’ plane tickets. Make a difference for these kids. Click here!

 

First Day of School (Again)

“So, what grade are you in?” the well-meaning youth pastor asked me, intending to invite me to high-school group. Ah, the familiar curse of eternal youthfulness. I smiled and explained that I’m actually in my twenties, swallowing the urge to snidely reply, “Seventeenth.”

Today, I can truly say that I am indeed in seventeenth grade; or, as it is better known, the first year of my master’s degree. Today is my first day of school, and I feel just like I did when I started my first day of kindergarten.

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Part of the reason that I’m so excited to start school again is that it does not involve any math this time. Can I get a hallelujah? The other part is that I get to study something that I enjoy and that I see as significantly impactful to the world. I’m earning an MA in Refugee Protection and Forced Migration Studies from the University of London International. The training will equip me to work with refugees, NGOs, and governments to be a part of the solution for people experiencing forced migration.

I don’t have a lot of experience working with refugees (a few days of volunteering at refugee events in Phoenix, a summer in East Africa, and many conversations with friends and family who have been displaced), but I’ve seen enough overseas and in my own hometown to show me the reality of the refugee situation and the great need for more workers in the refugee protection field.

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Photo Source: Rwandajournal

 

It’s a hard field in many ways, because you’re working with humans and not hard facts. This is one time when I do think math would be easier, because you either have the right answer or you don’t. Not so when you’re working with refugees. Often their wellbeing depends on what you do, there’s not one right answer when it comes to handling victims of conflict, and it’s often easier to see the right choice in retrospect. Just look at the knots that the Syrian refugee crises has put so many governments into. The U.S. is completely divided on how to handle the potential influx of immigrants. Europe is learning how to accept the change that a new population will bring. NGOs are working to protect people who have nowhere to go, and wicked people are doing everything they can to take advantage of their vulnerability. Somewhere in that mess, there are refugee experts working hard to make sure the displaced people are protected and resettled. It’s messy, it’s painful, and it’s amazing. I want to be in the middle of the chaos and the hurt and be a part of the solution.

I used to always ask God why I was born in a safe, privileged place. Why me, when so many people who are better than I am are born into places of suffering?  I eventually stopped asking Him why and started asking what. I don’t know if we’ll ever come up with an answer as to why God lets some people have more privileged lives than others. But I do think He gives us a very clear answer about what we can do with the opportunities we have. Sometime during my college days at Arizona Christian University, I heard a chapel speaker or a professor talk about pressing into places of pain. And it clicked with me. I can use my relatively painless existence to enter places of pain and suffering and “bring heaven down to places of Hell on earth,” as writer Palmer Chinchen puts it. That’s what I really want to do with my degree. I want to learn how to work at the highest level to alleviate that suffering as quickly as possible. I want to bring the messy warmth of humanity to the coldness of political policy. But most of all, I want to learn how I can enter into someone’s place of suffering and walk with them to the end.

To be honest, I don’t know what that looks like or feels like yet. I’m just sitting here at my kitchen table with my dog at my feet, first online assignment of my first class completed and an empty teacup next to me. I can’t image the realities of the things I’ll be studying over the next few weeks. I can’t picture what my life will look like in ten years when I finally get to get my hands dirty and do some real work with real issues and real people in East Africa. All I know is that for the next two years of my life, I’ll progress in my education, one step at a time, toward that unknown place. All I can do today is the task set in front of me.

It’s the first school day of many.