Category Archives: Saint Martin/ Sint Maarten

How to Become a Doctor: Ben’s Journey in Pictures

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Ben graduated from residency! He’s now a full-fledged physician.

If you’ve been following our journey for a while, you’ve seen snippets of his path to medicine through stories of our lives at American University of the Caribbean in Sint Maarten, to Detroit, to Arizona, to California, and back to Arizona.

But I have yet to share the process from start to finish. Here’s what it takes for someone to travel from high school student to doctor.

High School in Kenya: Discovering His Calling

Surgery in Kenya

Ben’s interest in medicine started when he nearly died of spinal meningitis in Kenya during high school.

After graduating high school, Ben flew to the States with two bags and a couple hundred dollars in his pocket. He started college at Arizona Christian University.

College in Arizona: Pre-Med

Ben and his lab partner, Bizi, in pre-med classes at Arizona Christian University.

Ben worked on pre-med and began to tackle the Medical College Admissions Test. Studying for the MCAT was a lot of work.

Graduating from college was just the beginning of his path into medicine.

Gap Years: Applying for Med School

Ben taught science for two years while applying to med school (and waiting for me to graduate).

Photo credit: Eyeshot Photography

We got married in 2014.

In 2015, we traveled to Los Angeles for Ben’s interview with American University of the Caribbean.

Med School in the Caribbean: Learning How to Become a Doctor

Soon, we were on a flight to Sint Maarten for medical school.

Arrival in Sint Maarten. We were as exhausted as we look.

Ben’s white coat ceremony was the first of many reasons to celebrate during med school.

Most of students’ time in med school is spent in class or studying.

Bern studied constantly (we made that shelf out of two trash cans and a board from the dumpster).

We had fun in the Caribbean, too. Here’s Matt and Ben surfing.

We loved living on the island.

Getting into the community to volunteer and make friends was my favorite part.

Hard work paid off! Ben made the dean’s list each semester of medical school in Sint Maarten.

Lab work for a zika virus study was a great opportunity.

Med school honor and service society. Can you spot Ben?

We moved home from Sint Maarten after two years. We gained a dog.

Clinical Rotations in the States: Immersion in Hospital Work

Ben was a third-year med student in Michigan. He did one year there, nine months in Arizona, and three in California.

We spent a lot of time at home in Detroit since we were both in school and I was working from home.

The 4th year of medical school is a student’s 20th year of schooling.

For med school year four, Ben transferred to a hospital in Arizona so we could be near family.

Ben became a daddy during fourth year of medical school.

Residency interviews took Ben all over the country. I went with him to this one in Palm Springs.

Match Day during the last clinical rotation in Bakersfield, CA! Ben matched at his #1 choice of residency. We got to move home to Phoenix.

We went to Florida for med school graduation.

Quite the crowd of family members attended Ben’s med school graduation. He had a huge cheering section!

Residency in Phoenix: First Three Years as a Doctor

Here’s the official Dr. Johnson in his long white coat at work. Ben spent 3 years in his internal medicine residency.

Residency is tough, and not just because of the 28-hour shifts. Working in the ICU during a pandemic was draining.

But he made it. Finally, residency graduation! Oh, happy day!

After 11 years of this journey, we’re celebrating the end of a chapter. Can’t wait to jump into the next one!

Surfing in Saint Martin: My Favorite Spots

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Today marks the first day of the Tokyo Olympics! And that means the first year of Olympic surfing has begun. Woot woot! Surfing is probably my favorite sport, both to watch and to do. So I’m pretty stoked at the idea of seeing this become an Olympic sport.

Lest you think I’m some super cool surfing fiend, let me add a quick disclaimer: I am not great at surfing. Yes, I got up on my first try. Yes, I walked from my apartment to the beach with my board under my arm like a boss on the regular. Yes, I managed to figure it out on my own without a surf lesson. But as you can see in the photos, my board was the size of a tiny whale. And, as you will never, ever see in the embarrassing Go Pro videos Ben took, my form was less the stellar.

Yeah, maybe I should have taken those surf lessons…

While we lived in Sint Maarten, Ben and I went surfing with friends. A lot. In surfing season, it was at least once a week, despite the demands of being a med student at American University of the Caribbean.

Loading up Matt’s island jeep with our boards

Although Sint Maarten isn’t famous for its surfing, it does have some good surf spots, and we managed to find all the good ones (and a few very dangerous places, which I will not share. We are probably lucky to be alive). Here are some of our favorites!

Mullet Bay

Mullet Bay Beach was a five-minute walk from home. Yes, I know– we were living the dream. For real. Especially since I still haven’t found a beach I like better than Mullet, with its surfing, snorkeling, cliff-jumping, sunbathing, swimming, sailing, kayaking, skim boarding, and fishing opportunities. I definitely miss it, now that we live in the desert!

Surfing Mullet Bay is only good in the winter months, when the surf is choppy. Other times of the year, it’s smooth as glass– perfect for scoping out the parrotfish, cuttlefish, and blue tangs that live in the reef.

Surfing here makes me a little bit nervous because it’s close to the beach and tons of people way better than me pack together and compete for the same waves. If it was busy, I’d usually just look on and take photos. It’s a great place to watch, since you can see surfers close-up from the beach or the rocks.

Plum Bay Beach

Our favorite beach to surf is Plum Bay Beach in the lowlands on the French side. It’s popular but not too busy, meaning I had a chance at catching some waves most of the time, even if there were a couple of other people there. You do have to swim out a bit, and getting past the smaller breaks to the surfing-sized waves was tough with my bigger board. But the rides were pretty long, and the waves are just the right size for me!

Our friend Jake lived in the neighborhood next Plum Bay. Jake’s from Hawaii, and he’s incredible to watch. He helped us improve a lot. And may have kept me from crashing into rocks and dying a few times.

Le Galion

Le Galion in French Saint-Martin is by far the most popular surf spot in Saint Martin. Even though Hurricane Irma demolished the beach in 2017, the surf shop, SXM Surf Club, is still there. Actually, when we went back in 2019, it was the only business still there. Gone were the colorful umbrellas, burger shop, and paddleboard rentals. I don’t know if anything else has been rebuilt (comment if you know!), but just the surfing is worth a visit.

SXM Surf Club rents boards, offers affordable rides out to the break, and gives lessons. We never took a lesson, but the instructors were so nice and sometimes volunteered tips for free when we were out at the same time as them. I think if we go back, I might take a lesson for the fun of it! We did pay to ride the ferry out a few times, but usually we just gritted our teeth and made the 20-minute swim out on our own.

This spot is usually pretty busy, but it’s also huge, and people tend to be nicer about taking turns and letting slow newbies have a shot at the waves. Which is a really good for me. I only ever slammed into one person on a packed afternoon (oops). If you bring your own board when SXM surf club is not taking people out and opt to take the long swim, you’ll have more waves to yourself.

Guana Bay

Ben only surfed Guana Bay once with Matt and Jake, and I just watched. The waves break right on the beach, and it didn’t seem like a good day to break my neck. If you’re really good and have a smaller board, it looks like a fun place to go. I prefer the Guana Bay Hike on the other side of the hill– takes you right to gorgeous tide pools!

Petit Cayes

I’m not sure I’d necessarily recommend Petit Cayes for surfing, but Ben and Matt did go a couple of times. The concept is cool. You have to drive all the way up to the northern part of French Saint Martin, past Pinel Island, and park at Grandes Cayes. Then you hike around the mountain, with its stunning views of Tintamarre Island and beautiful geological features; crunch over thousands of washed-up coral skeletons; and find yourself on the most stunning, pristine white-sand beach you have ever laid eyes on.

Since few people make the long trek to Petit Cayes, it’s free of trash and crowds and feels like you just discovered a desert island. On the horizon, the thin line of Anguilla peers up from the waves. It’s a wonderful place just to sit and think.

The waves here were too big for swimming every time we went, so Ben and Matt decided to try to surf there. The reason I say I don’t recommend it is that the current is pretty strong and Ben felt like it might not be a great idea to make it a regular surf spot.

Cupecoy

Cupecoy is another beach that we could walk to. A few times, we walked there and I stayed up on the cliffs while Ben went down to surf. We also paddled there from Mullet once when the beach was busy– for fun, and to avoid having to walk through the nude beachgoers.

I think Cupecoy is really scary because the wave break right into a rocky outcropping. I didn’t feel confident in my ability to steer my orca-sized surfboard well enough to stay alive, so even when I went out, I preferred to sit behind the break and watch the sunset. After all, what’s better than watching the sun dip below the Caribbean Sea?

It’s hard to believe it’s been four years since I’ve been surfing! Ben went with SXM Surf Club when we visited the island in 2019, but not me. Next time we’re in Sint Maarten, I’ll definitely go! For now, I’ll be happy getting to watch the best of the best compete for gold in Tokyo. Go USA!

And now, for your entertainment, a sneaky photo of Ben walking into American University of the Caribbean with a surfboard so he could run straight to the beach after class:

Fort Willem

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Breathlessly, we broke through the trees and cactus patches. Below us, the island spread like a lazy sea otter, floating peacefully on the blue ocean. Above us, we could see the antiquated stones peeking out from among the brambles. We had found it: the lost fortress.

Sound like the beginning to an adventure novel? Well, sometimes living on Sint Maarten felt like being a character in an adventure novel. I didn’t stick to the beaten path much when I lived there, so I often found myself on some old goat trail leading to a lonely summit (fun!), the dump (not fun), or a tangle of poison apple trees (even less fun). Today’s hike, though, led me and my husband, Ben, to the ruins of the island’s original fort.

Fort Willem was the first of three forts built on the island. It was constructed by the British in 1801 to protect the new territory from invading colonists and pirates. Apparently, it wasn’t particularly effective, because not long after, the fort was captured by the Dutch. The Dutch named it Fort Willem, after their king, but didn’t use it for more than a few decades. The fort offered awesome views of the bay, but unfortunately was too high and too far inland to effectively cannonball the enemy. Fort Amsterdam, built near Fort Willem but much closer to the water, was constructed to replace it.

View of Great Bay from Fort Willem

Fort Willem is on every map of the island, and it’s advertised as a fun outing by several websites and tour companies who have apparently never been to Sint Maarten. Just because a location is labeled on a map and it looks close to the tourism district does not mean it’s a great little experience for every tourist. Especially when you’re on an island made of really tall HILLS. Fort Willem is ridiculously hard to find. And you’re guaranteed to end up bleeding in at least one place by the time you reach the fortress.

Giant shoe-penetrating thorns

That being said, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t go anyway! If you like hiking and don’t mind a little adventure, you’ll have a blast hunting for the fort.

How Not to Get There:

I spent weeks asking around about the location of Fort Willem. The map I had wasn’t quite clear about which labeled hill corresponded to the undulating mounds of earth near Philipsburg. But nobody, local or expat, had been there or could tell me where it was. A lot of people didn’t even know what what I was talking about. But I was determined to visit every accessible location labeled on my SXM map (which I eventually did!), so I didn’t give up.

Fort Willem is located on- surprise!- Willem Hill, next to Cay Hill. There are two ways to get to the top. The first way includes near-death experiences and trespassing on a TV tower. This was the way we got up. We parked across from Sonesta Great Bay Resort and followed a winding road- deceptively named Fort Willem Road- up the hill. It was incredibly steep. When we got to the end of the paved road, we followed what started out as a well-worn dirt path. As the path went on, it became narrower and less beaten down. I guess there had been a lot of relic-hunters like us who gave up and went back at this point. They were smarter than us.

The path started to lead us along treacherously steep drop-offs and through tiny gaps in the thorn trees. I don’t even know how we squeezed through while fending off the wasps, but we did.

“I think this is a goat path,” I told Ben, who agreed with me and wondered aloud if we should go back. We decided we might not survive that trip a second time, and continued on. The best part thus far was the STUNNING views of Philipsburg and Pond Island.

If you find yourself here, you’re in the wrong place

Once we’d scrambled up some slippery dirt inclines, followed an ancient boundary wall built by people enslaved by the Dutch, circumnavigated a cactus forest, and bushwhacked through the thick undergrowth, we finally came to what looked like a really old building wall. Finally! We climbed up, and to our dismay, found ourselves on the foundation of a TV tower. Yikes!

At this point, I started worrying that we’d trespassed AGAIN and might get in trouble this time. Vowing to only follow human trails from then on, we got out of the TV tower area as fast as possible.

What did we find on the other side of the tower? Why, a road, of course. A nice, beautiful paved road leading up the side of the hill from the street below.

Armed with this new discovery, and now feeling much better about the trip down, we began to search for the fort.

WE FOUND IT!

To be honest, there’s not much left of Fort Willem. I heard a rumor that some of the stones were used to build Fort Amsterdam once Willem was abandoned. We could now see Amsterdam below us…. hundreds of feet down, it stood like a LEGO structure on the end of its peninsula. Maybe they just rolled the stones down the hill?

Fort Amsterdam

After a few minutes of searching, we finally found the ruins of the wall and battlements of Fort Willem. Overgrown by bushes and invisible from the road below, the wall offers a breathtaking view of the island and the sea. Wow! It did require a climb, but the end result was worth it. We sat on the wall and tried to imagine what it must have been like to man the guns from all the way up here, long before the buildings and cruise ships appeared below.

How to Get to Fort Willem

Now that I’ve described the first way to get up, I should probably tip you off on the second, and far better, way up the hill. The road we found was a much better route. We followed it down and back to our car without incident.

Walking back to our car…. down and around the hill

If you’re going toward Philipsburg from the Simpson Bay area, you’ll go right past the road leading up to Fort Willem. When you get to the part of the road between the hospital and Little Bay, look for Otter Road. Otter joins up with Camel Road, which is the road you need to take.

You’ll find the turnoff on this road

You can drive most of the way up, or park in the neighborhood below and hike up.

Old Battlements

This is definitely one of the most painful and more random excursions available on Sint Maarten. If you’re looking for a cool hike and you only have a few days on the island, go to Pic Paradis or Belvue. If you want to see a fort, go to Fort Amsterdam or Fort Louis. But if you want to go off the beaten path and do some Indiana Jones type exploring, Fort Willem is always waiting for you!

About Survivor’s Guilt

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This is a short one, I promise. But maybe it’s one you can relate to, as well.

If you read my last couple posts, you know that the horrific destruction of St. Martin by hurricane Irma was devastating to me. It was really hard for me to cope at all for about a week after the storm hit.

I felt so guilty, so angry, so stupid for having trouble coping when I was even personally affected by the storm. I was a little offended at my own reaction, and I was afraid other people would be, as well.

And then something unexpected happened. Other people were having the same feelings I was. Other people were hitting the same mile markers of grief that I was. I got a lot of great supportive texts and emails from other people in the time between the hurricane and the time we actually had regular communication with the island again.

In the words of my husband, Ben, “It’s OK to feel what you feel.” An article on survivor’s guilt that my friend Lezlie sent me said that all these feelings are normal. The faster we allow them to surface, the faster we can be OK again.

So if you were practically unaffected by Jose, Irma, Harvey or Maria and you’re feeling grief and guilt that you don’t understand, it’s alright.

You can do something with those feelings, too. You take your compassion and sadness and turn them into love. Let’s love on these places that were hit by the hurricanes!

Here’s an article I wrote for The Vacation Times about helping St. Martin. Supporting my island will help me to heal, and it can help you to heal, as well.

 

Post Hurricane Thoughts

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Well, I’m probably over-posting on Facebook about Hurricane Irma and the devastation it caused in Saint Martin. I have an awful lot to say about it, though, especially as new updates keep coming through. I figure if you want to know what I have to say about the situation, you’ll read this. And look– here you are!

 

Med Students are OK

After a semi-sleepless night a couple days ago and plenty of tears, I finally started hearing from friends who had been out of contact for a day after the storm.

The people who sheltered in American University of the Caribbean are safe, and not only that, anyone with any medical training (even first semester med students) are volunteering in a makeshift clinic! They even delivered a baby! What a birth story.

Many of the students, spouses and kids were able to evacuate to Puerto Rico. Many others, mostly students, stayed behind.

 

 

 

Tom and Lisa are OK

If you follow me on social media, you probably know a bit about Tom and Lisa Burnett, who ran Player Development Program in Sint Maarten.

I used to go there most days to tutor and mentor the kids. Player Development blew away and the pieces are yet to be found.

But Tom and Lisa (plus their four dogs) are safe! I could breathe easier after I found that out. Their neighborhood was hit very hard.

They survived the storm huddled on a mattress under their table, both of them plus of the four dogs. They stayed there all day, through the storm and even after their roof was ripped off. I am shaking right now just thinking about it.

 

 

 

Still Waiting to Hear from Local Friends

I started following more SXM residents on social media to keep up with videos and photos. Many people seem to be OK and in shelter, but strictly rationing food and water, and in perhaps in pain.

The need help but it is hard to know what to do. Samaritan’s Purse has a fund now, and I they are delivering much needed help! If you want to help, give to them. But I haven’t heard much else, although a friend of mine with a Canadian Rotary Club is planning to try to ship down supplies and suggested that I call my local airport to see which airlines are willing to ship relief supplies down.

I haven’t heard from too many people since the main cell tower was taken out by the storm, and the power company as well, I believe.

Our former foster son, Roland and Laura Richardson, the families from my baseball team, the foster homes, the staff at the medical school, and many other friends still aren’t online yet. So keep praying.

I just keep thinking about how bad I’ve been at communication lately. My life is so out of control right now and I put everyone else on the back burner. I guess you don’t realize you’re doing that until your friends are in a life-threatening situation and you remember that the last thing you said was some stupid thing about doughnuts or worse, nothing at all for the past few weeks.

There’s nothing like the fear that you might have lost someone to make you think of all the stuff you wish you said to them last week.

 

 

 

I’m Grieving

I think I’m going through the stages of grief. I’m partially in denial, because how can those photos be real when they don’t match my memories? That flooded street covered in debris was a sunlit lane when I walked down it just a few months ago.

I can close my eyes and go back to the way it was. I can see and hear and feel and smell every part of the island.

I can hear the way it sounds to knock on the door of one of my baseball kid’s house. In my mind it is still there.

I can feel the gravel at player development under my feet and see the books and toys and everything.

I can see the view from my old balcony like I am standing there again. Pretty sure that balcony blew away.

I can taste the shawarmas at Little Jerusalem and hear the “clink, clink” of Abe and Cathy chopping up meat on the grill.

But then there are those photos of the destruction, the videos of the looting. It’s hard to reconcile.

 

 

 

I Should Be There

And there is this overwhelming sense of guilt, because somehow I feel like I am supposed to be there.

Maybe I wouldn’t be saying this if I’d actually gone through it, but I’d rather have stuck out the day in AUC, where the hurricane shelter was strong and safe, than be here wondering and waiting and watching from afar.

I’d rather be out dragging palm fronds off the street right now. Or something else useful. Maybe that sounds dumb, and maybe it is dumb.

It’s stupid to want to be stuck on an island when so many people are suffering and desperately awaiting help and wanting to leave.

I feel stupid. And useless.

People reading this are probably going to think I’m trying to be some kind of weird martyr or something, but I think I’m just really emotional and stressed out.

I actually called Jet Blue yesterday to find out if I can fly down and when, but I couldn’t get through because they’re too busy handling the crisis.

I don’t even know what I would do if I did go. It’s not like they need more people to use up rations, anyway.

So anyway, now we’re both depressed, you’re welcome. Maybe I should go back to journaling instead of blogging.

That’s what things look like from my perspective.

Now just waiting for Irma to hit Florida, and I can’t wait until that is done and the power is back and I can hear from everyone.

 

Photo Credit Flash Meteo Antilles

Sint Maarten: In the Eye of Hurricane Irma

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Today is one of the worst days in SXM history.

Today is the day that Hurricane Irma hit, with Jose close on its heels.

Twenty-two years ago to the day, Hurricane Luis devastated the island, wreaking havoc and destroying the homes and livelihoods of so many.

I have walked through La Belle Creole, a resort that was destroyed by Luis. The ruins of the building, blown out windows, scattered furniture, and torn drapes, became a frequent haunt of mine. I could not imagine the winds that whipped the concrete walls into such shapes.

 

 

And now it’s happening again.

Just yesterday, Saint Martin was as I remember it: 37 beautiful beaches, architecture historic and new, brightly colored homes lined up neatly at the ocean’s edge.

When I go back, nothing will be the same. All the places I love will be gone. Will I recognize beautiful Soualiga?

The places might be gone, but as long as the people are OK, that is enough.

 

Photo Credit Flash Mateo Antilles

 

There was a terrible space of a few hours when all was silent on the island. The live camera at Holland House abruptly cut out, and the outside world had no contact with the island.

Here, in my new home in Michigan, the clear, blue skies and sunshine seem to mock the screaming destruction on the island.

Finally, Saint Martin has entered the eye of the hurricane. People are emerging from their safe spaces to assess the damage and find more secure places to stay.

I breath a sigh of relief every time I saw a post on Facebook from a friend.

But I cried at each new photo and video.

The island is under water.

 

The government buildings are destroyed, said the news.

They say 7,000 French Caribbean people refused to take shelter.

They say the historic buildings are wrecked.

I can see that the cars are all destroyed. Where will people come up with the money for new cars?

I can see buildings I know with roofs ripped off and water feet deep inside.

I can see people milling about in disbelief.

The eye of Hurricane Irma is twice as large as my tiny island.

 

Photo Credit Flash Meteo Antilles

 

What do you do in times like this? I know many of my friends are safe and secure on the campus of American University of the Caribbean, a category five hurricane shelter. But many people are not there.

Many people will take shelter, but still lose their houses.

Many people have actual homes on the island, and not just rented apartments and dorms.

The maelstrom around my island is mirrored by a maelstrom in my mind.

 

Photo credit Cyriel Richardsom

 

What is sunshine?

What is birdsong?

My reality cannot be real,

Not when the storm is the only reality for my island.

There’s something painfully agonizing about not being there.

Part of me is glad I moved away before the storm.

 

Photo Credit RCI

 

Part of me wishes I was there to help with the clean up.

I know I’d be OK in the basement of the medical school.

I know I could help rebuild.

But I can’t do that from here, and it’s making me sad already.

The damage isn’t even done, and the second half of the storm is still on its way.

Some stupid article about Donald Trump’s Saint Martin home keeps landing in the top posts on Google.

Who cares about Donald Trumps freaking house?

I doubt even Donald Trump cares about his freaking house.

I don’t care about an empty vacation home on Plum Bay going down.

I care about the shipping container homes on Pond Island.

I care about the family homes and foster homes in Dutch Quarter and St. Peter’s.

I care about the little beach houses in Philipsburg.

I care about the houses of all shapes and sizes filled with people I love and people I’ve never met.

 

 

I’m amazed that GEBE survived the storm and that power is still on.

I’m thankful, too, to see posts on Facebook and Twitter.

I’m glad you are OK.

What amazes me is that in the midst of the storm, people are praising God.

In a video of the destruction, a woman thanked God for being alive, even as she showed the wreckage of her hometown and Jeep.

My friend posted this video on Facebook: Made a Way by Travis Greene.

It’s strange how so much loss puts things in perspective. When everything is lost, the people of Saint Martin are thanking God for the things they still have: their lives and each other.

Why did God let a storm like this hit Saint Martin?

I wish I had the answer to that.

But I’m glad to see that people can still say he is good when everything in their lives has suddenly been lost in the storm.

Stay strong, SXM. Stay faithful.

 

 

This storm is going to hit a lot of places, but there are those of us on the outside who are thinking of you and praying for you.

There are people who are crying tears for you even as you are in hurricane shelters.

There are people who see your pain and feel it with you.

You’ve recovered from storms before. You can do it again.

Saint Martin can’t be taken down by the wind and the rain.