So Close Yet So Far

After a wonderful Christmas break back home in Canada we were looking forward to returning to our warm little island.  We left from Calgary bright and early... well, dark and early as it was 12:40am on January 6^th. It was, of course another very emotional goodbye.

During the flights the Fay and Eden were miserable. I can’t really take a guess at the ratio of pleasant and brutal, all I can say is that when they were brutal, it was nasty. So other than sad little girls, the flight from Calgary to Toronto was uneventful and so was our layover there. Our flight from Toronto to St. Maarten had left a little later then scheduled which resulted in our plane having to wait on the tarmac in St. Maarten due to heavy volumes of flights that were unloading and loading passengers. So once we finally got hooked up to the terminal and left the plane the lines for immigration were huge. So all of that resulted in us missing our flight back to Statia that evening. We were told we could attempt to wait for the next flight as standby passengers. We were desperate to get home so we checked our five suitcases and stood by. Evidently the flight was full and everyone had checked in. We collected our five checked pieces and dealt with “customer service” representatives. So Westjet put us up in a hotel and we had a much needed good night’s rest at The Towers hotel in St. Maarten. (Luggage in tow)

Luckily we were able to catch a flight to Statia the following morning at 11:00am. Here is where the story starts to get… interesting. We had finally got to Statia! We could see the Tidmarsh family and Steve Beckett waiting at the gate to pick us up. We were so glad to be back and the cool breeze felt so good. We waited patiently as we were the last in line for immigration. The immigration officer told us that we were not permitted on the island, that we had been there too long already with out having residency papers and would have to leave on the next flight. We pleaded with him, spoke to another worker, spoke to the manager, had the manager call to ask the person that he works under if he could just grant us 24 hours to figure everything out. Nothing. Josh asked for the number to call the person whom the supervisor works under. He called and the man hardly gave Josh the time of day. I begged the supervisor to please allow us to stay, there we were a family with two small children, who’d been travelling since midnight the prier day, exhausted and hungry and desperate to get home. Josh was supposed to start school the next day. He told us that he understood but that there was nothing he could do. Of course I was a mess. Thankfully, they let our friends take our luggage to our house for us so we didn’t have to haul it all through St. Maarten. We changed the girls diapers and thankfully Meg Beckett came down to the airport, gave me a big hug (which I so desperately needed) and gave us a bag of snacks for the girls to eat.

And back we went, tired and down trodden, to St. Maarten. –I must add as a side note that in retrospect it was a blessing that we missed our first flight to Statia, because we both would have been way too exhausted to have dealt with the situation. 

So what had happened with the residency papers?

When Josh was accepted to the school there were certain documents that we needed to have for immigration purposes, which he handed in. The admin building lost the forms before they go to immigration. By the time the school found the forms the police checks and the bank statements had expired. Josh knew this before coming home for Christmas and was planning on getting the paperwork done while home. He forgot. How ever he had called the school to ask if it would be a problem for getting back on the island and he was told that it would not be a problem. SO… that’s the paperwork saga.

Fay and Eden with Bro+Sis Wright.
(side note: that is wall paper in the
background...St.Maarten doesn't
really look like Alberta)

Back in St. Maarten, we called the Brother and Sister Wright who are serving a mission there. They are from Raymond. We told them our situation and asked if we would be able to stay with them for a night or two.  After renting a car we saw three students from Josh’s school and picked them up. Daksha, Mumtaz and Ali. We all we for gelato, Mumtaz treated us. That seemed to help our moods. Then Josh, the girls and I headed to the Wright’s home where they graciously aloud us to stay.

           

Luckily for us, the Bridge’s flew in the next day and thanks to Jenna, they brought our new police checks. They took our papers back to Statia with them and gave them to the lady who works for the school doing immigration. She had an appointment with the immigration people to file our paper work that Thursday, but unfortunately the fax of our bank statement had arrived late, so she couldn’t proceed with the appointment. Her next appointment wasn’t until the following Monday. BAH! NO! We needed to get home like yesterday! Josh was already missing days of classes, now he’d be missing an entire weeks worth! We pulled out all the ropes and our family and friends here and at home did what they could, weather it be providing some financial help or praying for us our just helping us stay sane. Haha. Might I just add here again, how grateful we are to all who helped us.

The most disappointing part of our status now was that no one who had a say in the matter seemed to care. Many phone calls and emails to the school admin were ignored and when answered, the responses were not anything close to, “I’m so sorry for this inconvenience! We’ve/I’ve done everything in my power to try to sort out this mess. But now we will just have to wait. Again I’m sorry.” Nope. Nothing like that. In fact the responses included round-a-bout excuses and phrases such as, “I don’t do favors.” It is most disgruntling because the school lost our papers. We did not. So alas, we just simply had to wait. After imposing on the Wright’s for four days and nights, and how grateful we were for their kindness, we decided we would impose on them no further and thought we’d be able to better ‘try to relax’ if we had our own space. So we got ourselves a hotel room. Just let me insert here the caliber of husband that I am blessed with, he did all our laundry in the bathtub of our hotel. Now that’s a real man. I must say that I remained in a bit of a mood for the most part… (Sorry Josh) until early Monday afternoon, when we had received the good news that our paperwork had finally been submitted.  However I was still holding my breath, and would continue to do so until we had successfully crossed through immigration in Statia. We did find time in St. Maarten to enjoy ourselves under the circumstances. 

Our little fam.

Eden :)

Fay :)

Our brains were restless with the thought of the possibility that we might not be able to return to Statia soon enough and would have to return home for a semester, and what all that would mean. We ate lots of pizza and pasta and gelato. I read my kindle. We played at the beach and at the pool. (Freezing) We did a big grocery shop at Cost-U-Less on Monday evening that would ship to Statia that Wednesday. Tuesday morning came and we got ready to make that familiar trip back to Statia. Off to the airport we went, checked in, through passport control, through security, waited at our gate… and waited… and waited… until we finally boarded our little 20-seater puddle jumper, which contained four passengers other then ourselves. It’s such a white knuckle little flight over the ocean; thank goodness that it’s only about 20 minutes long! Well we landed, de-boarded made it to immigration second inline this time… they turned us around AGAIN!

Statia, sweet Statia.

Just kidding J HEHE They let us in this time! AND the lady even apologized for the inconvenience. What a relief it was to walk on through and see Katie and Lucy Bridge waiting for us. The feeling of happiness that we felt after finally, finally arriving at our home away from home, was indescribable.

Now here we are getting back into the swing of things and it is wonderful. Of course we miss home, we always do, but there’s something to be said about being in your own home. (Insert sigh of relief here.)

… And you’re welcome to come visit anytime J