Surprise! We are moving to Michigan! Actually, it was more a surprise for us.
Now that Ben is done with the first two years of medical school, the books and exams are behind him. Now he gets to do the fun part- shadowing doctors in hospitals!
Ben’s medical school, American University of the Caribbean, has partnerships with hospitals all over the United States. While students do get to submit a list of prefered locations, the school assigns us to the hospital that fits best, depending on availability. It feels like one of those surprise grab bags we used to get at convenience stores as a kid. And while it made me a little nervous, it was kind of fun to have someone else decide where our next home would be.
We had hoped to go to Bakersfield, California, the closest hospital to our home in Phoenix. However, we heard rumors that it was full, along with Baton Rouge and Detroit. That left Miami as the only available location on our list, so we planned for a Florida move. Tank tops and Spanish! We were getting prepared.
Imagine our surprise when we got a call telling us that someone dropped out of the Michigan clinical rotations and we were next in line! We would be joining the previous class’s schedule, starting a few weeks earlier than Ben’s class and making up the Pediatrics rotation at another hospital later. We agreed!
Ben’s clinical rotations start on August 14, so we had to leave 10 days after we got the news. Not a lot of time! We left Saturday, and we have been driving for two and a half days. We are almost there!
We still don’t know where we are going to live, and the more we hear about Detroit, the less we know what to do. Go for a 15 thousand dollar home and risk the rough neighborhoods? Let more money slip into the black hole of rental properties but live in a safer area? I don’t know anything about Michigan, except for a little town called Fruitport that so visted two years ago for a wedding. Fruitport is a long way from Detroit.
Well, I guess that is what we will figure out in the next couple days. We’ve know what it’s like to move far away to a place we had never been, but we’ve never showed up in a new place as a couple of homeless people and a dog! What will Michigan bring? I guess we will find out soon! This is all part od the adventure.
St. Barth’s is the French Caribbean’s premier vacation destination. It’s so fancy (you already know)! The world’s rich and famous flock to its white sand beaches all year round! When I had the chance to visit with my friend Emily, however, I was more excited about the historic forts than the upscale resorts. Are you a history buff, too? Read on to see the stunning views from St. Barth’s Fort Karl!
Fort Karl is located in the town of Gustavia. It’s pretty easy to find. St. Barth’s is only about nine square miles, and Gustavia is the port city where just about everybody arrives. A quick ATV ride or brisk walk will bring you to the foot of the stairs. Take the brief climb up the stairs, and you’ll be on top of the world! Well, on top of the island, at least.
Fort Karl has been around for quite some time! It was built in 1789, when the island belonged to Sweden. Since then, it has become rather overgrown with bushes, cacti, and scrubby trees. In recent decades, the island has made the ruins of the fort a popular tourist attraction, creating paths through the fort and signage to interpret the history and nature of the area.
Although the fort is no longer necessary for island defense, it is an excellent vantage point for sightseeing! You get great views of the town, and apparently it’s also a popular place for whale-watching. We didn’t see any whales, much to our sadness, but we did see a bunch of boats arriving for the annual St. Barth’s regatta.
The view from the top really put the tiny size of Gustavia in perspective! It’s incredible how tiny and old this charming historic town is. They’ve really kept it nice through all these years. It’s a tiny place with a whole lot of history! I wonder what it was like to live here during the era when it was all but forgotten by Europe?
From the top, we could also see our next destination: Shell Beach! This beach is entirely carpeted by tiny shells. We could hardly wait to get down and zoom over to this beautiful beach! St. Barth’s has so much to see.
Stay tuned for a photo-filled post about beautiful Shell Beach! You don’t want to miss a taste of this stunning Caribbean destination. Like and follow for more posts on St. Barth’s and the Caribbean! Until next time.
Apparently, American Easter is different than St. Maarten Easter. So, we had a lot of fun introducing R to American-style Easter celebrations!
I chattered all weekend about dying eggs. Anything artsy is fun for me, so I was excited to do some egg decorating with my family! R isn’t particularly talkative, so it wasn’t until Ben started mixing the vinegar and egg dye that R asked us what in the world we were doing! “Dying eggs,” I told him. His look of confusion prompted me to ask, “Have you ever dyed eggs?” “What’s that?” He asked. Ah ha! A new and fun thing to introduce my son to. Part of the joy of being a foster parent is learning about my kid’s traditions and sharing mine.
In St. Maarten, apparently, kids still hunt for eggs (which are not left by a bunny), but only plastic eggs. They get lots of chocolate, something I unfortunately forgot to buy! There’s also an underwater egg hunt, which I did last year.
As it turned out, R loved decorating the eggs. He didn’t really get the point, since they were just going to become deviled eggs in a few hours. But he had fun in the process!
Speaking of deviled eggs, those were totally new to R, as well. So was jello. I don’t know if jello is a part of your Easter celebration, but it’s always been a part of mine! R really thought it was strange– a little bit inedible, even– but despite his initial disgust at its look, he enjoyed it. He probably didn’t enjoy the rest of us staring at him while he tried it, but someone’s first taste of jello is an epic moment, people.
Also epic was the fact that my “bunny bread” didn’t look like a disoriented demon for the first time ever.
Aside from traditional Easter dinner, we also went to church in the morning. R usually goes to church on Easter, but our church is different from his other church. I’m guessing they don’t serve hot dogs for brunch at his other church!
That night, we watched “The Passion of Christ.” It was the first time for both R and I. Wow, is it good! It’s also really intense as tough to watch. It’s about as realistic as you can get as far as crucifixion goes. That movie made the whole Easter story come alive to me again! For R, it seemed to really cause him to think. He was on the edge of his seat the whole time, and had some deep comments during the film. During the whipping scene, he remarked, “Jesus could have stopped that any time he wanted. But he didn’t, because he wanted to die even for those people who were hurting him.” Wow, that is exactly what Easter is all about! No matter how rotten any of us has been, Jesus still made the choice to sacrifice himself instead of letting us be punished. He loves us that much.
When Ben’s cousins, Craig, Bonnie, and Wally, visited us a month ago, they spoiled me. And I mean really spoiled me! One of the fun excursions they treated me to during their trip to Sint Maarten was a day on Anguilla at the Four Seasons Resort.
I’d been to Anguilla several times before, but I’d certainly never been to the Four Seasons! Actually, I’d never been to a hotel nearly as ritzy as this place. I’ve always wondered why the rich and famous want to spend their entire vacations in the Caribbean at a resort. Now I get it.
Oh my word. That pool, that view! Anguilla is known for being beautiful, but the combination of wild natural beauty and manicured perfection was just gorgeous.
Wally and Craig went right to the ping-pong table. You know it’s a good place when there’s table tennis. I hadn’t seen such nice grass in months, and I almost felt like I needed to take my shoes off to walk on it.
Rooms at Four Seasons Anguilla run several thousand a night – a NIGHT! – so you can imagine how nice this place is. I felt privileged to get to spend the day there.
Bonnie and I enjoyed the infinity pool. It was a great view of the beautiful, powdery white beach below. All of Anguilla’s beaches are fantastic (or so I’ve heard; I’ve only been to three of them), but Mead’s Bay Beach is one of the best.
Talk about a lot of sand! This beach seemed endless, and it was not crowded at all. That’s the wonderful thing about Anguilla. It’s small, but it’s quiet and offers enough space for everyone.
I saw a few people trying to surf along the edge of the beach, which was freaking me out a little. It was so shallow and close to the rocks! I’m not sure what the appeal was, because they were only getting very short rides. Maybe it’s better on other days.
While we were at the Four Seasons in Anguilla, we got to eat at the restaurant there. Did I mention that Craig and Bonnie also spoiled me with food? I don’t think I cooked a single time while they were staying with us!
The food at the Four Season was to die for. Ben often says that the only think I love more than hummus is him. It might possibly be true. I do judge a restaurant by it’s hummus. And this was some of the best hummus I’ve ever had. I may or may not have eaten it with a spoon once the pitas ran out.
They say that time flies when you’re having fun, and it certainly is true. I was surprised when our day was over and it was time to take the ferry back home.
If you want a luxe vacation in Anguilla, the Four Seasons is the place to go. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to stay there, and I’m OK with that, but it sure was a blast to experience the celebrity life for a day!
If you’ve been missing the Caribbean adventures posts, you’ll be glad to know I got access to my photos again! We have them all stored on an external drive that was making scary clicking sounds. Ben backed it up today, so we’re good to go once again! So stay tuned.
So… I ate my words this week. Or rather, drank my words. As many of my friends moved back to the States over the past several months, they looked forward to one thing above all else: Starbucks. Oh, they were obsessed! They talked about the pumpkin chai latte all fall (I totally didn’t miss fall because we don’t get it in Arizona anyway). They talked about pepperminty drinks all winter (another thing we don’t get). They talked about iced coffee all summer. A couple of them went to St. Barth’s for the purpose of Starbucks, because they had heard there was one there (there isn’t). Oh, and when it was time for them to move home, they talked about Starbucks all the time, posted Instagram photos, and drank it every day!
I rolled my eyes.
I don’t really like coffee, and I’ve probably had about five coffees in my entire life. So I didn’t really get the whole thing.
So, then I moved back to the States. Guess what was the first thing I bought on U.S. soil? Yup, Starbucks. Hypocrite that I am. And it was GOOD. But I did some pretty stupid things in the process, which I am blaming on the ridiculously long trip we were in the middle of. It addled my brain, guys.
The only reason I even went to Starbucks was for this sweet thing: the UNICORN FRAPPE.
This is a photo of my friend Jordon’s Unicorn. (Hey Jordon.) I am posting this because I did not get my Unicorn, friends. So I have to use someone else’s photo. I am also posting it because, apparently, Jordon’s alter-ego is Lord Voldemort. But back to the Unicorn.
I’ve been in the Caribbean for a long time, so going up to Starbucks in the Miami airport was pretty exciting, not going to lie. Equally wonderful was the smile and greeting that I got from the barista, because I have gotten used to the customer service culture on Saint Martin. That’s a nice way of saying that there is an island-wide epidemic of poor customer service in Saint Martin. However, on Saint Martin, you don’t usually pay a whopping six bucks for, like, two ounces of coffee. The Unicorn Frappuccino was $6.50 for a tall (by the way, non-U.S. friends, a “tall” is the smallest microscopic cup of coffee you’ve ever seen). Six dollars and fifty cents! No way.
In Saint Martin, there are usually two columns for prices at restaurants and store. The left column is the price in guilders, which is roughly twice as much as dollars, and the right column is the price in U.S. dollars. At Starbucks, there are also two columns. The left column has the price, while the right column has the calories.
I looked at the menu to find something cheaper than the are-you-freaking-kidding-me-six-and-a-half-dollars cup of pink unicorn magic, and I decided on the caramel frappe. Why? because while the left column said “5.00,” the right column said “300.” Oh, $3.00 in U.S. money, right? I ordered it.
I was a little surprised when my total was $5.50-ish. I paid it, while trying to figure out the math. Oh tax. That’s right. We don’t have sales tax in St. Marten. Still, that seemed a little expensive. Who raised those sales taxes while I was gone? Politics really have gone down the toilet in this country. It wasn’t until I walked away– sleep-deprived, dragging a hyper dog, and probably looking like a crazy person– that I remembered that there’s only one currency in the United States, and that Starbucks is just really expensive. I was ordering something worth 300 calories, not $3.00. Oops.
I have another funny Starbucks moment (I actually went twice in the first week I came back– sorry to everyone I judged, either mentally or verbally, for doing this very thing). I’ll make you wait for that one, though, because my Sint Maarten friends need to know about a wonderful thing called Dutch Bros. Guys, you’re Dutch, and you have no idea what Dutch Bros is! I know, because I asked some of you. Well, as you can see, the cups have windmills and tulips on it, which, according to Stuff Dutch People Like, totally makes it Dutch. It’s also home to the one and only coffee I will ever drink, the Carmelizer. So get some Dutch Bros, Dutch people! You need this in your country.
Back to the Starbucks. I actually went back to a Starbucks in order to get that Unicorn Frappe. And much to my sadness, the barista told me that they are literally sold out all over the Valley! I somewhat suspect they’re actually just sick of making them, based on this video, but either way, I had to settle for a cotton candy frappe. Which, by the way, is really good. It isn’t as colorful as the Unicorn Frappe, though, so it didn’t look as good as my Instagram Feed. Here is a shameless plug: follow me on Instagram!
While the color didn’t make it Insta-worthy, the name on it did. I was laughing so hard I couldn’t even get a clear photo.
This is just about as good as my friend Lord Voldemort’s cup, and it wasn’t even intentional. I’ve had all sorts of interesting spellings of “Breana” on my Starbucks cups, but this is a first.
That’s all for today, guys. I have to go work work work work work now. Let me know your funniest Starbucks moment in the comments!
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.
