Whenever I fly, I’m always paranoid about my passport. After all, I’ve heard the horror stories! Someone I know had their passport stolen while traveling, and they were trapped in Africa for weeks. This stuff happens! However, I’m not so worried about it any more. Why? because I’ve ditched the insecurity of a clear plastic bag for an Alban passport wallet that holds my passport, my ticket, and my cash. If you’re a frequent traveler, you’re going to love the security in this! Read on…
Why I Need a Passport Wallet
Ben and I travel light, We usually take a backpack as a carry-on and pass on the checked baggage. As you can see from the photo above, that backpack is pretty huge, and I have to buckle the waist strap to carry it. It’s not easy to take on and off constantly. Obviously, I’m not a big fan of storing my passport in the backpack, and I’m not comfortable just walking around with my passport and ticket loose in my hand.
The Alban Passport Wallet solved that problem for me! I can stick my passport in there, of course, but it also has a nifty slot in the back that is the perfect size for a plane ticket. It can also fit money, a drivers license, and credit cards. It’s like a tiny purse that’s easy to manage and can slip into a personal item or carry-on.
Benefits of the Alban Passport Wallet
There are a lot of different passport wallets out there, but they are not created equal. Ben uses this clear plastic thing that he stuffs, like, seven documents into, along with a wad of cash. He’s never lost anything out of it, but it’s not very secure and he has to keep it in a pocket or a bag while he’s walking around. Even nice passport wallets aren’t as good as the Alban one I have. What sets it apart?
Here’s what makes this passport case better than the rest: RFID blocking material. The lining of this case protects against your identity being stolen! You can walk through crowded airports and city centers without worrying about losing your identity to a stranger. Stick your passport in the wallet and your credit cards in the back, and you’ll be safe from RFID devices.
With this passport case, I can keep my wallet, cash, and plane ticket all together! No more digging through bags or stuffing important documents in hard-to-reach places. This case is big enough to fit a passport with extra pages. I travel internationally a lot and have the extra pages in my passport, so I need that kind of space.
Plus, did I mention that it’s made of authentic leather? It’s tough, so your passport will be protected. Badly damaged passports aren’t valid. One of my favorite singers, Keith Harkin of Celtic Thunder, had to miss an entire tour due to a damaged passport. Don’t let that happen to you! Get a good case.
The case is also very attractive, by the way. It comes in seven colors, including black, red, and purple.
I am so glad that I discovered an affordable, beautiful, and secure passport wallet. I’m always stressed out about losing my passport on trips, but now I have peace of mind! If you don’t have a good RFID-blocking passport case, this is the perfect one to get.
The bad news: it took 24 hours and about half my remaining sanity.
If you’ve ever moved internationally, you know it’s not exactly a piece of cake. Actually, it’s pretty tough, emotionally and logistically. It’s like I was being ripped in half, because I was so sad to leave St. Maarten, but at the same time so excited to see my family and my hometown. And while I was trying to deal with those emotions, I had to be getting rid of all my stuff and cramming the few things I was keeping into our suitcases.
Fact: You can only drag so many pieces of luggage through the airport.
Also fact: Suitcases hold less than you expect them to.
As we were going through all our stuff, I was wondering where the heck all that crap came from. We only lived in St. Maarten for a couple of years, and I was intentionally trying not to amass copious amounts of things. So even after selling, donating, giving away and throwing out the large majority of what was in our apartment, we still had three suitcases, two gigantic backpacks, and a couple of small backpacks. Plus the dog. And by the way, getting the dog back was incredibly stressful. But I don’t want to even think about that right now. She’s here, and that’s all that matters.
The first thing that happened when we got to the airport, as we were struggling to get our luggage to the counter, was a cranky security guard stopping us and demanding to see our paperwork for the dog. Not only was it bad timing, but she actually has no authority over whether or not a dog goes on the plane. We have to show it to the lady at the baggage counter and the people a customs. I took this total waste of time as a bad sign about the way the trip would go, and boy, was that accurate.
Kenny driving us to the airport
Kito was thoroughly freaking out by the time we made it through customs, but the hour wait to get on the plane calmed her down. We planned to get on the place last of all, so that Kito wouldn’t get in anyone’s way, but they actually let us get on the plane first. That was really nice, and it gave us a chance to get settled. Kito was so worn out that she lay down at my feet and fell asleep.
As soon as the engine started, she shot straight up in the air and landed on our laps! Ben comforted her while I watched my beautiful St. Martin disappear beneath the clouds. I had thought I would cry at this moment, but I was already too exhausted for any tears. The last thing I saw was Pond Island growing smaller and smaller beneath us. It was strange to think that my Little League team was practicing right then and I was not there to help.
Kito literally shook with terror for the entire three hour flight to Miami. Poor dog! The good news was that she was so quiet that I don’t think anyone noticed her.
We had booked a flight with a 1.75 hour layover so that it would be easier on the dog. Here’s a piece of advice: never book a short layover when going through customs in Miami. We had intended to use the really cool new customs app (Guys, it’s really cool. You have to use it next time you fly internationally!) but it doesn’t work if you have an “x” on your customs form. Kito is technically an imported animal, so we still had to wait in the long line.
After the long line, we were taken to another special customs area for people who are importing stuff. We were the only ones waiting in the room, and we waited for fifteen minutes while the staff slowly stacked papers, watched basketball on TV, had a conversation about illegally imported mangoes, and complained about having to multitask when they finally decided to get around to seeing us.
Even through we were slowly watching our chances of catching our connection slip away, I was more concerned about Kito’s rabies shot. I had called my vet to set up Kito’s health certificate appointment, and she told me not to worry about making a separate, earlier appointment for the rabies shot. So I got it a week early, along with the health certificate. St. Maarten is a rabies-free country, so it technically doesn’t matter, according to the CDC. A lot of my dog-savvy friends, however, told me that I might not get Kito through customs if her shot was less than a month old. So I was really worried about that. As it turned out, though, the customs people looked the shot record over, smiled, and handed it back without a comment. Of course, seeing that they didn’t appear to take their job very seriously, I wouldn’t count on that being the norm.
We left customs and realized that we had just missed our flight. We were directed to customer service, where we waited in another long line to get a new flight. When we finally got to the front, the representative told us that the next flight was at 7 AM– twelve hours after we had landed in Miami. Since the delay was not the airline’s fault, we didn’t get a room or even a meal voucher. I could tell that the manager felt bad, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Another woman who was on our flight was MAD. She was incredibly mad, and she really wanted us to be as mad as she was. Honestly, though, we weren’t that upset. Maybe it’s because we were too exhausted to feel anything other than tired, but I think it was because we were just thankful to be through customs and in Florida. There’s nothing like getting your newly-stamped passport back and hearing, “Welcome to the United States.”
The airport wouldn’t let us through security a “day early,” and when we got our new tickets it was 11:00 PM. So we had to wait an hour just inside the door and get overpriced Pizza Hut, which was all that was open. Boy, did that Pizza Hut taste good just then. At midnight, we went through security. It was actually nice to be doing the TSA thing so early, when there were only five people in line ahead of us. We just had to slide on through, and we were done in ten minutes. Phew. We still had six and a half hours before boarding, so we found a quiet terminal and tried to sleep.
We actually did manage to sleep a little bit. It’s amazing how easy it is to fall asleep in odd places when you’re so exhausted! Even the dog just dropped off to sleep, all curled up on an airport chair.
Of course, we couldn’t sleep the whole time. I was worried about Kito peeing on the carpet, so we took to her to the special doggy bathroom a few times to make sure to avoid a mess. Thank goodness for the doggie bathroom!
Also, Ben made a new friend named Leo. Leo works at the airport, and he didn’t have any assigned duties for a couple hours during the especially slow parts of the night, so he talked to Ben for a while and found out our predicament. He helped us get seats together on the plane, and then drove us an all our stuff to our terminal on his cart.
When it was finally time to get on the plane, I was surprised at how quickly the night had gone. The plane ride didn’t seem so short. I slept for a while, and tried to do a crossword puzzle with my fuzzy sleep-deprived brain. Mostly, I held Kito, who was really not enjoying the whole experience. The upside to the early morning plane ride was that my parents didn’t have to pick us up at midnight, which I was happy about.
Finally, we touched down in dusty Phoenix! I have never been so happy to see the familiar outline of Camelback Mountain. We were so excited to see my family, and Kito was excited about the new kennel they bought her. Seriously– I have never seen a dog who loved a kennel so much. How wonderful to be a dog and have a grassy yard for the first time ever, and a cozy kennel to sleep in at night!
After the whole experience, I can safely say I will never fly with a dog again. At least not for that long of a flight! It was the worst flight experience I’ve ever had, but we got through it with pretty good attitudes and made it home just fine. Now that we’ve recovered a bit, I’m looking forward to seeing family and friends and re-integrating into the United States. This is just the first chapter of a whole new life.
Things that go fast never lose their appeal for us. Sure, we may outgrow the toy trucks and die-cast tractors, but real planes? Forever awesome. Every year (starting in 2015), Sint Maarten holds an air show above Great Bay. This year, I took R to the Boardwalk to enjoy the show!
Of course, that was way back in November, but who cares? Better late than never. I couldn’t resist sharing the photos.
The first thing we did was explore the festival on the Boardwalk. Unfortunately, most of the activities were either for adults or younger kids, so R found it kind of boring until the show started. Still, there were some pretty sweet motorcycles because of the biker event that was also happening on the island, and he thought those were cool. So did I, if only for the sheer number of them, even though I seriously could not care less about motorcycles.
The air show started (after much waiting under some palm trees) with parachuters jumping from the planes. They landed not too far from us on the beach, one at a time.
Soon, the planes began to show their stuff. They seemed to fly dangerously close to each other! I think that might have been an illusion of distance and depth, but it’s hard to tell.
The planes did corkscrews in the air, falling through the air at heart-stopping speeds before leveling out above the bay and flying upward once again.
You know, I never thought I was much of an airplane person, but I’m learning how awesome they are! Between Princess Juliana Airport down the street and the airshow in Philipsburg, I just may be addicted to flight.
Airplanes, expats, and the missionary life! Kaitlyn Stewart, the author of today’s guest post, grew up in Senegal, a nation in West Africa. I met her during our college years in Arizona. This summer, she is embarking on a long-term missionary journey of her own to Mali.
I sat in the back of the airplane, my ears silenced by the foam squish of the airplane headset. My heart sped up with the deep whir of the propeller, thumping slightly as the wheels bounced over the lumpy concrete. As the wind rushed heavy over the wings and lifted the aircraft high into the Arizona air, my heart lifted, thrown into an excited tempo by the soaring plane. Faster than it seemed possible, the Kodiak left the earth and sped up and away over the dry landscape. Glancing out the window, my view shifted and I imagined the green leaves of lush jungles and the beautiful mountains this plane would soon see. And my heart took flight again, enchanted with the future the Kodiak would see among the rainforests of Papua New Guinea.
These airplanes have been an answer to prayer. With more room both for passengers and luggage, they can travel faster and cover longer distances than other small aircraft. They also use less expensive fuel, making them more cost efficient as well. If needed, these planes can carry a stretcher, turning them into makeshift ambulances. Overall, these planes have been an incredible asset, making it easier to transport supplies and people to the farthest unreached places and people of the world.
Airplanes have always played a significant role in my life. I grew up around them, stepping on an airplane for the first time at four years old, and was always near, in, or around one. To me, the airplane became a way to connect with missionaries that I knew in the villages of Senegal, a way to bring supplies, pets, medicine, and technology to those working to spread the gospel of Christ. I loved the chance to experience the joy of flying and being a part of the missionary work.
It doesn’t always take an airplane ride for someone to be able to share the good news of Jesus Christ with those around them. It can take a simple step outside their front door, a short walk to a neighbor, a car ride to a country that needs help. But for those places that are inaccessible, the airplane provides that opportunity that may not have been otherwise possible. With these new planes, mission work can be redefined, and the gospel of Christ brought to those who may have never before had the chance to hear about the saving grace of Jesus Christ.
Consider the roles these airplanes will have in the years to come. Transporting people, bringing supplies to remote locations, ferrying those who are sick or injured to medical facilities, and most importantly, carrying the good news of Jesus Christ to the lost places of the world.
Consider your own role. Just as the airplane is a thread in the tapestry of God’s overarching sovereign plan for saving this world, so are you. He has equipped you to be a vessel that carries important news to the far reaches of earth- that Christ can forgive sins and pull individuals from the chains of brokenness and death into light and redeeming love. Through the power of Christ, you have the ability to bring healing to a broken world. You have the ability to soar on the wings of eagles and impact this world for Jesus Christ.
As the wheels touched down again on the concrete of the small Arizona airstrip, my mind envisioned a crowd of excited villagers and smiling missionaries crowding around the door to get a glimpse of the plane that would change the course of history in the jungles of PNG. And suddenly, it didn’t matter where I was now, I wanted to someday be a part of a team that worked to bring that good news to those people. We are called to take the good news of Christ to the far reaches of the earth, and with one small airplane ride, my desire to proclaim the name of Jesus to the lost nations flew as high as the planes soaring overhead. The magnificent plane stands ready to do its part in helping save this world- will you join us?
Yo hablo un poco Español. Imagine me saying that in a very bad Mexican/American accent, and you will hear the best of my Spanish. Actually, I’m not sure if the grammar is even correct (perhaps someone can enlighten me in the comments). Sometimes I try “Yo hablo poquito Español,” but either way I am met with chuckles and amused smiles. Not sure if it’s the white girl accent or if I’m just saying everything wrong.
You’d think that I would have learned Spanish just by living near the Arizona-Mexico border, working with Spanish-speaking people, and going to Mexico a dozen times. Nope. Living in Phoenix taught me enough Spanish to pronounce “gila,” “agua,” and “cholla” correctly and navigate my way through Food City. Unfortunately, the people I asked to help me learn mostly liked to teach me insults and laugh when I asked someone to “give me the hooker” when I wanted lettuce. Thanks, guys. Muchas Gracias.
Me in 2007 with my dad and friends in Mexico, not knowing Spanish
Fortunately, my Spanish has been steadily improving since I moved to the island. On the plane ride here, I set next to a Puerto Rican lady for a few hours. I used all the power of my jet-lagged brain to recall the words I learned in Spanish 101. Her English was even worse than my Spanish, and we got along just fine. Through Spanglish plus hand gestures, we had a conversation about how to avoid pickpockets in San Juan. I understood enough to be glad I was catching a connection to Sint Maarten!
San Juan
Since I’ve been here, I’ve been practicing on the Duo Lingo app and watching lots of Spanish movies. There are a few Spanish-speaking kids in the group I tutor, so while I teach them English, they teach me Spanish. They learn a lot faster than I do. Some of them learned conversational English in a month, and I’m just over here struggling with Spanish adverbs. I told them they must just be smarter than me. They laugh. And then they correct my Mexican accent.
Teaching as a Learner
There comes a moment in language learning when you realize that you’ve made a major breakthrough. Those moments are some of the best moments of life. It’s kind of like the moment you find out you’re hired or that you won the scholarship. That moment came for me a few days before Christmas when Ben turned the radio to a Christian Spanish station. We were tired, and we just listen to it in silence as we drove. Suddenly it hit me: I could totally understand everything the speaker was saying. I almost jumped right out of my seat, I was so excited. I could understand!
Don’t ever, ever, ever give up on the things that you want to do. Even if they don’t come easily to you.
I’m still struggling with adverbs, and I still don’t know whether I should pronounce “ll” the Mexican way or the Caribbean way. I still can’t speak or hear it as well as I read it. But I’m making progress, and it’s encouraging. Trilingualism, here I come!
