Christian Medical Missions trip: Lucea, Jamaica
| People (friendliness) 9 | Food 8 | Best thing to their name: the island beauty-- |
| Shopping 3 | Stuff to see 7 | the beach, the flora, the skies |
8/18/96
Right now I’m on my 737 to Jamaica.
My original flight was cancelled and right now M.’s probably running
around berserk at Detroit airport wondering where I am, hope she’s got the
sense to ask the airline about my flight.
So now I’ve been transferred to a direct flight to Montego Bay, no
layovers, yay.
This morning I took a hefty dose of cough medicine and then a
motion sickness pill, so right now I feel about as awake as a dead cat.
So Friday night I came home early (after not going out all
week), especially so I wouldn’t irritate my parents.
Well stupid me forgot to give them back the car keys before I left church
while they were still there, and my brother had to take them home.
The next morning they were PISSED. All
my feeble efforts to avoid upsetting them this week went down the drain.
My mom said “You know, don’t tell us you love us and say all these
nice things, because the things you do and the way you act toward us isn’t
what I’d call love” or something to that effect.
It hurt a lot, especially since it had been really hard that other night
for me to say I loved them, and now she was throwing it back in my face as if it
had been just play-acting. Then she
asked, “What’s it going to take for you to learn your lesson?
What can we do to convince you to grow up?”
I was silent and she kept asking “Don’t you get it yet?”
until I finally said, “Get what?”
She gave me a disgusted look and said, “If you have to ask, then you
really don’t get it at all.”
Later that day she was out grocery shopping when my dad
got a phone call. When he hung up I
asked who it was and all he said was, “Mom got in an accident.”
Right then I got a very scary feeling, like someone was
playing dirty tricks on us or that we were cursed or something.
On our way there Daddy said, lots of times “bad things happen in
threes” and that Mom, who hasn’t gotten into an accident in like ten years,
has been really upset this week about the 4Runner and probably not concentrating
as well as usual. Thus this
accident.
It turned out to be just a parking lot incident and the
Honda got a dent on the left rear side, Mom was fine and the other guy said we
could settle it without involving the insurance company.
Daddy and I had a talk as we drove back home.
He said the most important thing to get out of all this stuff that’s
happened is “to learn a lesson,” to be careful next time.
He said one of his biggest fears was that I would one day contract an STD.
I looked at him, like I couldn’t believe he would actually say that.
I said (not asked), “You think I’m going to get an STD.”
He said, “I don’t know! All
I’m saying is you better be careful.”
You know, when your own father basically thinks you’re a
slut, when your mother doesn’t believe you when you say you love her, when
you’ve wrecked the one car your parents dreamt of buying for years that cost
practically as much as all their previous ones combined and actually had more
options than just A/C and power locks, when you’ve left them stranded at
church while you went off to a party with their car keys, and when the whole
time all you wanted was to show them you were capable of taking care of
yourself, of being an adult, it really makes you think something must be wrong
with yourself, y’know?
So just for kicks or whatever I looked for my razor blade
in my desk. Not like I’d actually
do it, with my low pain threshold and all, but I just wanted to feel what it was
like, to feel the pressure of the blade against my wrist, cold, sharp, and to
see my vein really blue and bulging out over the rubber band.
Like Courage Under Fire—“The
truth? The sergeant was a fucking
coward.”
But guess what. My
desk was such a mess I couldn’t even find the blade.
Is that pitiful or what? To
have a desk—a life—cluttered up in such a state that you can’t even find
the means to end it.
Again, not that I really would do it.
But my mother was right, I really don’t “get it,” and if everything
that happened to me this far hasn’t hit it home to me yet, I wonder what’s
in store for me next, and I wonder if I’ll ever get it, or if I’ll just keep
on plowing blind through life with my hands in front of me hoping I don’t get
hit…
*************************
We are in the hotel lobby, K. is playing guitar.
We arrived in Montego Bay around 12 noon (Jamaican
time), and I met K. in the plane (he saw my yellow T-shirt which had been sent
to all of us and we were instructed to wear), then we met Debbie (the team
leader) and Salam in the airport. We
three sat and talked awhile, bought snacks at a snack bar and I think the
cashier gypped us because we didn’t know the conversions.
Outside some kids forced Wayne (M’s brother) to buy a bracelet.
We met some guy Karl who said he might come to our church on Wednesday.
Eventually everyone else except one delayed plane arrived, and Rev.
Hamilton picked us up in a bus.
They brought us to the church where we were to set up
the clinic, and we met the rest of the staff and team who’d arrived earlier. Had dinner (wasn’t bad) and they drove us to our hotel.
It’s not bad. There are showers, a fan, towels, and soap.
It’s hot but bearable. There
are weird noises, I think crickets that go “beep beep” and a group of rowdy
guys outside our window. I still
have a cough from yesterday (getting worse).
After we settled into our rooms (M & I are sharing
one) we drove back to the church for service.
It was different, I didn’t know the songs.
They sounded like hymns with a reggae touch.
After singing, people stood up at will and gave testimonies, then there
was a speaker—a woman for a change. The
sermon was about the ten virgins, five foolish and five wise, the wise saved
enough oil in their lamps so when the groom arrived they had enough.
The moral: we need to be
ready for Christ’s coming, and we are like the lamps with oil to bring light
into the world. Then more hymns,
offering, and benediction. When we
came back to the hotel, somehow all 20 of us fit into the van.
The
people on the team are all really nice…“too nice” people I sometimes call
them. M. probably likes them a
lot—her type. She also says these
conditions are a lot better than at her Mexico mission trip.
Most of the staff and some of the girls are from the South
and have these southern accents, which I need to get used to.
I really need to get used to.
K. is pretty cool, plays guitar quite well and from NJ so
he knows some people from my home church. Salam
is a “character,” fun-loving and playful and quite spiritual.
There’s a Korean girl, Misun who seems nice. There are two 10-year-olds too, who came with their moms.
We are all very different.
It is a very diverse group but we all have one very important thing in
common…
I just told M. all about my crazy last three weeks.
She said, “Well you had an exciting summer,” but I think it was one
headache after another.
8/19/96
Today was a good day.
We had breakfast and then orientation.
The staff members each gave testimonies and cautioned us on the possible
dangers on the island like drugs and rowdy locals.
We paired up to pray. I
paired up with Cissy, who just finished nursing school.
She’s nice in that sorta timid way.
Like she’s always the first one up from a meal to clear everyone’s
dishes.
Then we split up into our teams—clinic, education, and
children. Clinic is the largest.
I’m assigned as receptionist to start, M. is a nurse assistant, Wayne
and Misun are health prevention teachers. It
wasn’t open yet, but as we were setting up, six people came throughout the day
to be seen. K. took over and practically dominated the whole time,
wearing the steth around his neck and giving me orders already like he was Mr.
Doctor himself. A woman named
Jennifer had a swollen thumb and as they treated her they witnessed to and
prayed for her. A dwarf named I
forgot, he was 22 and really soft-spoken and seemed pretty intelligent, came for
a checkup, and a young boy about 9, Peter, was sick and I gave him a sticker. It was fun. Then
we practiced taking each others’ blood pressure and listening to our
heartbeats and breathing.
At night we went to service where Sandy sang, the staff
gave testimonies, and we younger members sang “God is So Good” and “Lord I
Lift Your Name on High.” The
locals liked it a lot and afterward we met Steve, a 24-year-old guy who goes to
Miami U and who thought I was 24 too! That’s
a first. Later, W. told M. and me
that Steve had seen us and asked him to make introductions.
8/20/99
Today wasn’t such a good day.
It started out OK, we had breakfast where I sat with
the two kids, Bethany and Tiffany who talked about riding horses, and K.
Then we prepared for the clinic. About
20 people were already waiting at quarter to 10.
I was stationed at the receptionist desk and was supposed
to just fill out the patient’s name, age and any allergies, but as it got
backed up (quickly) and the nurses were moving slowly, I took down more and more
info for each patient. By 12 or 1
PM I was taking vital signs (blood pressure, temp, pulse and respirations).
K. taught me. I had some trouble hearing the beats with the steth but I
learned a lot. It was just sort of
frustrating seeing so many people waiting so long in the hot sun and wanting to
move it along, but the nurses were being very thorough and spent a lot of time
at the counter looking up meds because we don’t have a pharmacist or doctor.
It was sooo hot, sticky, grimy, sweaty, smelly, dirty;
flies everywhere; the people were hard to understand with the dialect and accent
and many were soft-spoken and hard of hearing.
They had worms, open wounds, most had missing teeth, and things I never
heard of. A little girl ate dirt,
and “passed 36 worms” in her stool. A
woman had a piece of the white flesh of her eye partly covering her iris.
Another woman said a piece of flesh was coming out whenever she passed
her stool and she had to reach up and put it back in each time.
I felt pity for them of course, just listening to them all
and all their problems—no one had just one complaint, most had at least
three, and almost all had had them for so many years they couldn’t remember
when it started. I knew most came
because this was free. But I knew
even before I passed them on to the nurses that we couldn’t do anything for a
lot of them—like a woman who was senile, those with poor eyesight, a growing
bump on a hand?
The nurses would give them meds and send them over to the
teaching station for toothpaste/deodorant, who in turn sent them to the prayer
station. In the sanctuary, the
children’s team looked after the kids who’d come with parents and taught
them songs and stories.
Lunch was refreshing, but the next three hours were
absolutely exhausting—not so much physically, but I was just wearing thin,
especially on patience. K. was
getting on my nerves trying to change things around and just confusing things
more, but later he was really patient with me, teaching me to do the bp right.
I was getting sick of asking the same questions over and over.
I couldn’t keep up the pleasant/cheerful act, sick of trying to
decipher what they were saying, sick of the sweat/piss smell, the flies and my
freaking cough! I kept
taking the cough syrup but it wasn’t helping.
After we closed around 6, we had dinner and sharing time. I started feeling tired, then we stood and joined hands in a
circle to pray and sing. During
prayer a coughing fit hit (of course) and the woman next to me (I think
Dolores) got me some water. I
practically couldn’t breathe. When
they were done Patti, Sandy, Dolores, and Ruby I think came and laid their hands
on me and prayed fervently for Jesus to remove my sickness, clear my
passageways, remove “Satan’s hold” on me.
I was terrified and touched, at the same time.
Scared because they reminded me of those spiritual healers on TV and
wondering if they could tell I didn’t really have 100% faith in what they were
doing and also scared that they were right and Satan had a hold on me and
wasn’t letting go and putting all these doubts in my head and also thinking
they were only humans, a bunch of women just talking and getting really
emotional. Whatever it was, I felt surrounded!
choked!
I miss home! I
miss home! I miss home in the worst
way! The days remaining ahead seem
like a stretch of eternity.
I watched the two 10-year-old girls and envied how free they were, to act and speak whatever and whenever they felt. To complain about the food and weather and look bored during singing and run outside during prayer without anyone thinking how "unholy" or "uncommitted" to the Lord they must be.
Can I be so immature?
selfish? spoiled?
Nothing to do but endure, exist, and perform the motions
like one playing dead until he can up and run free.
Wow that’s heavy.
8/21/96
I feel even worse today.
My entire head feels like it is stuffed with cotton balls and my nose
down to my throat feels like it’s coated with molasses.
Last night I had two terrible nightmares.
One was the second time I dreamt the 4Runner accident
happening again. We had it back
like brand-new only this time, instead of me driving it alone, I was in back and
my parents in front. Daddy swerved to
avoid a car, we were on the Dead End behind our house and he lost control of the
steering like I had, the car wobbled and outside the windows I saw the scene
tipping just like during my accident, and we headed straight for a telephone
pole and I screamed Don’t let us crash it not again!
I woke up crying and breathing fast.
I went back to sleep and then dreamed I went to the
hospital and the doctors told me I needed some sort of operation.
They tried to operate, then said they didn’t have the right equipment
and were sending me to another hospital. They
said there was no rush but I thought they were saying that on purpose so I
wouldn’t worry. Some guy was
leading me toward the hospital but stopping at places to relax along the way,
and I was still cut up and bloody from the first operation so people who saw me
were scared and my brother still didn’t come to see me and someone told me if
I didn’t hurry I was going to die but the guy kept saying There’s no hurry
but I kept thinking I’m going to die…
After that I didn’t sleep too well.
************************
Today was an all right day.
This morning I was still so seriously thinking of running
away that I even found some phone numbers in Jen’s Travel Book and copied them
down so I could call a cab to the airport if I changed my flight.
But we had a good breakfast and Patti gave me a pill for
congestion and the clinic went more smoothly.
M. and I switched off on the receptionist job and I finally heard a
couple of bp’s very clearly (I’d been wearing the earplugs wrong all
along). We took shifts for lunch which was good, and by 4 PM they
slowed down and only a few stragglers were left.
One 13-year-old boy was standing looking in the door and I asked him
where his mom was, thinking he was looking for her, but he said he was here
alone. Turns out he came at 10AM
(walked here) and was waiting but the Pastor told him to come back tomorrow
because we wanted to see older people first (the children can go to a free
clinic in town). But this kid
seemed too old for the clinic. I
hated to turn him away; then K. butts in and takes him and takes over, “I’ll
take full responsibility” if the Pastor complained.
K. said I did a good job today.
I said “So did you.” After
all, I wasn’t going to let him make me feel inferior but a fellow worker.
I know he has more experience but I don’t like how he’s sometimes
condescending. Actually last night
Wayne came to our room and told M. he wasn’t getting along too well with K.
I heard him say others felt the same way, but she said What can you do
but make the best of it, for the team’s sake.
Tonight after dinner our younger group sat in a circle to
practice “King of Kings”, “Lean On Me” and “Father I Adore You” for
the service. We did sign language
with “Father I Adore You” and Salam soloed in “Lean On Me.”
He was hilarious because we’d be singing the slow “Father” and
suddenly he’d randomly break out in a rapid “King of Kings” in Arabic.
At
service, just as our group went up I had a coughing fit (of course!)
I was hoping most people were watching Salam and Tiffany sing, but I was
shaking, sweating and couldn’t breathe. Cameras
were flashing everywhere and I thought how my misery was going to be captured
forever on film. I saw Theresa
watching me looking very concerned.
Misun and Heather and Sandy and Sandy gave testimonies.
All cried, Heather practically the whole time and I still don’t know
about what.
Well, God was probably punishing me with the cough for all those mean thoughts but honestly, I couldn't help thinking that this trip and team were only turning me off and not helping me spiritually at all. I thought of home and how I can't wait to wear my shorts and tank tops again (we're only allowed to wear skirts below the knee and no sleeveless tops) and makeup and get my hair cut and go shopping and see my guy friends again. All these females here!! Not to mention of the guys here I think only Wayne possesses a significant level of testosterone.
Afterward Patti and Susan checked me over, my breathing and temp and cough. Patti gave me some pills and they said they were all praying for me while we were up there and Patti warned me not to "try and tough it out" in the clinic if I felt worse. Debbie and Sandy asked me how I was feeling too. They were all so concerned I felt touched and figured I really couldn't run away now. Yesterday I just felt "These are people I'd never have to see again." But today I felt they were people in my life I'd hurt if I ran.
8/22/96
Today was actually a pretty good day.
For breakfast we had hard crust sourdough bread, and goat cheese which tastes like really creamy cheddar, and jam and butter. I felt all stuffy-headed again because last night the bar outside was really noisy and I kept waking in the night, but I took another pill.
We split into teams for triage. K. and Salam, M. and me. She assessed while I took vitals. I was getting better at bp's and heard just about every single one today (except when I tried my own). Patients seemed to be flowing through more smoothly and quickly. There were so many cute kids who came, including one baby girl I posed with for a photo and who later in the middle of the prayer room, started bawling and finally peed on the floor.
For lunch we finally had the famous Jamaican jerk chicken which is marinated, grilled and seasoned in special sauce. It's spicy and very good but they only gave us a bite.
After lunch Wayne switched with M. At first he was sorta clueless and it was really cute, he's all "Let me watch you for a little while first" and when I showed him the temp, pulse, resps and bp procedure, he said "I'm impressed. My sister's been doing this too?" like he couldn't imagine her. He did all right except for pulse; for one guy he got 32. I said, "He'd be dead." For one of the last patients K. literally butted in and took over while Wayne was assessing and Wayne looked a bit annoyed. K. seemed a bit condescending to him, like he was before with me.
Anyway toward the end I suddenly realized that, after my thoughts were occupied all day with the patients, I was hardly coughing anymore, just sniffling a lot. When things slowed down it was fun. Verone, the woman who helps us call the patients numbers each day, brought in a crab. I said "Is that dinner?" She laughed and then set it loose in the clinic! Salam got hold of it and put it up to Patti's face and she screamed and stood up on her chair.
Since the first day Verone would call out numbers for us (because I can't yell) and would go find the people and bring them over, all day in the hot sun until closing. The whole time I thought she was a church helper of the pastor's until she said, "I'm the last patient," and we checked her. I was amazed. She had stomach pain and other pains too, and she had waited all day, and she's been helping us every day.
It rains every day late afternoon, hard like I've never seen in NJ, but the sun sometimes still shines and it only lasts about an hour. Today, Cissy was standing in the doorway when Theresa pulled her out into it, then tripped on her skirt and fell! Her T-shirt was covered with mud but they were both laughing about it. And K. for the second time spazzed out; yesterday he thought he lost his thermometer sleeve and it was in his pocket, today it was his watch and it was in his pocket. I threatened to stab him in the throat with the therm if he kept doing that but he just grinned. And Wayne was so cute trying to take his first bp today and of course the baby on the patient's lap was grabbing at everything, the cuff and gauge and his earplugs out of his ears, so his hands were full and I had to put his earplugs back in while he tried to avoid the baby's flailing hands, looking all bewildered. Bethany was going around tickling the back of our necks with a reed. Yesterday she was telling me all the dirty tricks she plays on her brother and I suggested freezing fish eyeballs in his ice cubes, "but make sure they freeze clear so he'll see them" and she was amazed: "I can't believe you're giving me suggestions...most people just tell me 'how mean to tease your brother like that!'" She asked if I had brothers or sisters and when I said Yes she said, "No wonder!"
For dinner we had lots of traditional stuff, "Bonita" fish, "Akki" fruit (cooked and looked like scrambled eggs), and Breadfruit (bland and dry and gross and supposed to bring down bp).
K. and Wayne took my bp and Wayne got 108/86 and K. got 84/56; he said I'm quite healthy bp-wise. I have normal temp so I just need to get rid of the darn congestion.
Today during sharing the women told more stories of patients who were saved; a woman who came couldn't raise her hands over her head but suddenly could after they prayed for her, etc. I still wondered if it wasn't just a psychosomatic effect, that they thought praying would heal them and so the body responded to their thoughts.
When we returned to the hotel I called Mom and told Will, who was there for dinner, a little about the trip so far. Then Daddy told me he got a new job. Finally! It's at a company who bought out his old company. It's only about 25 minutes away and is full time and permanent and he started yesterday. He said, "Our prayers have been answered."
In that nightmare two nights ago, Daddy missed the telephone pole and we didn't crash.
I don't know really what to think of the spiritual "healings" and if all those "souls saved" were really legit, but I know God really did answer our prayers about Daddy's job.
There've been times on this trip I really thought of when I go back to school, partying it up and giving up church, but somehow I know I couldn't, somehow I know deep down I believe and always will.
Friday 8/23/96
Today was the last day of the clinic.
We all seemed kinda run down and tired, but the flow went even better. The first day we saw about 70 patients, the second abut 86, the third over 90 and today about 122.
After lunch M. and Wayne switched again and he and Tiffany helped do vitals and I was back to being receptionist. At one lull while most of the nurses were eating lunch, I waited with one patient, Vanessa and her little 4-year-old Chelsea. Both were very pretty and dressed very well, noticeably more so than the rest. But she wasn't too cheerful. I was surprised then when she asked for my address. But M. just warned me earlier not to give it out except our school PO box or there was a chance they'd show up on your doorstep (Debbie said it's happened before) so we exchanged PO Box addresses. When I told her it was my school address she did seem a bit disappointed, but I asked when her birthday and Chelsea's were so I could send them cards and she laughed. She said she's never had anyone to write to before. She was 20 too, living alone with the girl and had a hairdressing business at home. A lot of these girls had kids, and often with different last names than the mother's and than each others.
Saturday 8/24/96
Today is our day off. We're going to Negril where there's a mall and then to a more local market where we can haggle prices for things. Then to the beach and then to a restaurant, Jake's Grill, and then back to the church for supper.
I'm excited to go home but a little (just a little) sorry because yesterday was pretty fun. After the clinic we had a generous dinner, then debriefing and then the electricity went out. So Tiffany, Bethany and I were telling ghost stories and using Tiff's flashlight under our chins. They all told me I looked really scary so I told them the one about the woman's baby and the boar who had no tongue.
Sunday 8/25/96
Yay! Today we're going home. It's sad saying goodbye as one by one people are leaving for their flights. We got here at Montego Bay airport at 6AM and I have a long wait.
Yesterday was quite a relaxing day off. First we hit a touristy open market with lots of little shops and merchants who we haggled with. I bought a straw woven basket with a dome shaped lid but everything else looked sorta junky. Then we hit a touristy indoor mall where there were nicer things but we couldn't haggle and I bought jerk sauce seasoning, a bottle of run, some tropical jams and honey, peppermint tea and Blue Mountain coffee and a little jamaican yarn doll on a keychain. I think I'll give the basket and jam to Mom, the rum to Lucy and coffee for Will. I also bought a bottle of jerk sauce for myself, to bring to school.
Then we went to the beach. Misun and M. didn't bring swimsuits so we just waded. The water was so clear and warm and blue and absolutely beautiful. We saw parasailors and some girl walking around topless and M. said "My brother better close his eyes!" It sunshowered a little and we laid out for a while and we had fish 'n chips and chicken 'n chips. At the mall we had Mojo potatoes, just slices of fried potatoes, seasoned and with ketchup. It was a real greaseball day.
After we got back to the church we had dinner and I showed Bethany a picture story and drew Garfield and Sebastian for her. She said "All the Grace's I know can draw."
After dinner we prayed around Pastor Hamilton and his wife and laid our hands on them, only my arm got tired halfway through so I put it down.
Right after our prayer we went outside and there was a rainbow high up in the sky, arching way over the hills and we all took pictures. The sun went down and the sky was a deep blue and the clouds were misty against it. The hills were dark and their silhouette looked so graceful rolling all around us. We waited a long time for the bus. Meanwhile there was a wedding rehearsal in the church, for a young Swedish girl and a Jamaican guy. They looked so young and so happy. The helpers had brought in lots of bunches of beautiful Jamaican flowers, and all their friends and family were there too. We watched from the windows. We sat and talked and then I sat alone for a bit and looked at the sky and got a funny aching/tingling feeling in the pit of my chest like when you're struck by how beautiful something is and the feeling makes you kind of shudder on the inside and almost tickles and spreads up your throat and in your breath. A few little Jamaican boys were crawling over the fences and about, and I thought how this was the last time maybe I'd see these children and this beaten down church and the tall grasses.
That night I had an achy splitting headache and took Tylenol and slept very deeply. We got up at 4AM to leave. In the bus to the airport I could see out the window into the quiet night. For the last time we rode past the ocean that rolled right up alongside the road, only there was no sun to reflect on the water surface and make the flashing fish that raced along with us every morning. Now there were a few stars that didn't just shine but really twinkled, in the sky that wasn't black but that deep ethereal blue, and there were huge clouds not white and puffy, but gray and powerful looking, they stretched and contorted in all directions and the faint start of a sunset glowed just underneath the largest cloud and from time to time it would light up with a brilliant flash of lightning from behind.
By the time we arrived at the airport not only was the sun rising but "look, it's the Northern lights!" and I saw them for the first time.
Salam left first and the rest of us who have a long wait spread our luggage out and picnicked and played cards and took photos and slept and read and I'm writing. The airport was pretty nice and had a lot of little shops. There was only one cafe with terrible overpriced food. I bought and wrote postcards for SH, JH, and PK because they all helped me get into the program, wrote my recommendation letters. I really want to go home and I don't know if I'll come back next year but I'm really thinking I might especially to see Bethany and Tiffany and the children and Verone again.
Now we've boarded the plane. M. & Wayne, Bethany, Susan, Sandy and I are leaving, we all have a flight to Tampa. Cissy, Dolores, Patti and Debbie left at the airport.
We're on a 727, it's pretty small. We're taking off right on time.
Every time I think about going back to school I feel so excited; M. isn't but I'm happy and can't wait to move in, to have our own suite together, to take classes again. At the same time I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do this year, how I want to be...almost like who I want to be...I feel like I should grow up and stop going to those pointless parties and take church more seriously; at the same time I'm still not very happy w/[college church] and the people there and I miss the parties and dances and drinks and all.
The other day I made an analogy like this. Right now I'm only ankle-to-knee deep in water. When you're only partly in water like that, you can't go anywhere very quickly; you only flounder around like a bum, and sometimes you slip and fall, but don't get hurt very badly.
If you go out farther until you're all in, you can swim. You can go faster and farther and it might be fun, but you're heading nowhere and you'll probably drown and end up at the bottom.
If you come in to land, you can run. You can run fast and you can go somewhere. You'll be winded and sore and pretty hot and tired, but you can eventually run up a mountain and reach the top.
Of course the whole swim or run thing is over-simplified but I do know that I don't want to be a dumb flounderer. I don't want to go nowhere and be nobody.
I feel like I'm really getting older; the reality is dawning on me that time is slipping away. Turning 20 has been grim for me. Nineteen was such a lovely age...now when I say, "I'm 20," I can feel the difference in the people who hear it; like I'm apart from the teenage world now and that whole carefree mindset. I'm starting to look pretty silly in Juniors Dept. clothes even to myself, and I'm losing interest in cartoons.
On our way to Tampa, M. said, "Don't get mad but I think someone on this trip liked you." I said, "Not K.?" and she nodded, but she wasn't sure. I said I didn't think so, but I'm not sure either because he did seem really nice to me, and kept asking if I was OK and still coughing and once just took a picture of me when I was standing alone, but then he was just like that to everyone I guess. He told me to call him, I guess because we live so close. But that'll be sorta tough considering I don't have his number.
Now I'm alone on my flight to Newark.
Bethany liked me a lot which was neat because I've never considered myself great with kids. When we were telling ghost stories she sat with me and said, "Grace you're more fun than M. and Misun." Today when we finally had to split up in Tampa and her mom (Susan) said they had to go, she refused to leave my side and continued telling me her Little Mermaid story and told her mom, "I'm not going with you. I like her too much." I said, "Sure, if you roll up into a ball you can probably fit in my backpack." Her mom kept saying to me, "She's not gonna let you go" until finally she did. They were my favorite people I met on the trip, Bethany and Susan.
We'll be landing in Newark in about half and hour and just before there was a lightning storm down over Maryland. I saw flashes of lightning but even from this view it wasn't nearly as beautiful as this morning in Jamaica from our bus.
To Do Monday:
1. Lie out and tan.
2. Do nails.
3. Face mask and cucumber for
eyes.
4. Do toenails.
5. Deep-condition hair.
6. Soak and pumice feet.
7. Do aerobics tape.
8. Laundry.
There's a child in the seat behind me who yelled out before when I was sleeping and I thought Bethany was calling me. I keep seeing her face and her wide brown eyes with those long curly lashes that I always wished I had, looking at me in that kind of lonely way whenever she told me one of her millions of stories; how her brother died and the EMTs brought him back by electric shock and how she woke up to find everyone gone and Sandy in her mom's place, how she tried every year to wake her brother and sister (Grace) up on Christmas morning but they always slept 'til noon so she couldn't open her presents, how her sister's best (girl) friend married a girl and divorced her a week later, how her sister had a baby by a 40-year-old man who Grace loved but who wouldn't marry her, how she went out with a boy for two years (started when they were 8) and at the movies he tried to kiss her so she slapped him, how she wears makeup (concealer, blush, lipstick, eyeshadow) every day, how she met another boy at Disneyworld who lives in Spain and will never see again but they still like each other, how her hair used to be down to her butt until she chopped it off to her chin just before this trip and was glad because no one played with it anymore.
On our right we can see the lights of Atlantic City so we're almost there.