Well - We Made It

[charlescroes]

“

I love pictures and love the old ones best. Pictures of my grandparents when they were kids, impress me the most. People always sat straighter in them olden times. Looking through some old pictures, I found one of my grandfather sitting in a waiting chair at the airport. There was once an area where you could go up and sit and see the arriving passengers fighting the wind as they crossed the tarmac between the recently landed plane and the airport building. Almost all the men held their hats on top of their heads by using their right hand and – the left hand normally carried a small case or held the jacket closed. People traveled in suits then – Many of them “white’. Hardly anyone wore a baseball cap or anything with “Panama Joe” written inside or outside. Women wore dresses (a rare thing now) and also used their right hands to hold on to their hair while the other hand held the middle of the skirt and bunched the cloth towards the legs. I remember that the harder the wind blew that the women held on to the skirts tighter and walked with their knees slightly bent.

In those days, at the airport, it was a time of rituals. When a plane landed the first to leave the landed plane were the passengers and then there were a few moments of nothing to be followed by the Captain and his Co-Captain. They would give little smiles and ‘salutes’ to the stewardesses as they passed them. Everyone, including the stewardesses, always looked at the pilots with that “WHAT A MAN” or “MY HERO” kind of look. Well to think of it, to pilot a silver tube loaded with about 120 people on it across the oceans of the world, deserves that kind of admiration – even today. The stewardesses left last and then the guys would pile in to clean up things and re-stock the silver tube once again. Planes always faced the wind and pieces of wooden block kept them in place when pinched against the tires. The propellers had belts that fit on the blades so that they wouldn’t turn in the wind. All the holes for the engine were covered up and the plane was basically put to sleep until “further use”.

Romantic times – to say the least. I wish we had more pictures.

When my family looks out the window at the airport, they see monstrous walls of steel that are the sides of the plane. Long square umbilical chords connect these monsters to the airport building and those who were waiting inside to be born into our sun and wind, walk down those tubes and into more internal structures. (The birth process has been complicated – to say the least). Air conditioning is no longer a wondrous thing to make us comfortable – it is expected and complained about when not working. Walking has been replaced with gliding up and gliding down. Lines are resented and doors without eyes are considered antiques. People actually bump into them when they don’t have eyes to let some mechanism know to open for your passage… and no one says thank you to the door-man since he is no more and none of us would dream of thanking the door-mechanism, or would we? Mechanisms have feelings too – you know. Oh well.

The ride to Aruba has changed and the landing does not happen anymore when the plane lands. I don’t even know what happens to the stewards and pilots anymore. At the door of the plane, someone says “y’allwecumt’ruba” It is a very forgivable slip of the tounge since they repeat this 400 times in about 10 minutes, No – now the traveler has to wait to get his luggage and bundle it all into a food shopping cart and then tighten his jaws and lips as he goes to final inspection. If they ask to open the bags, then arrival or better yet the “landing” is further delayed.

The landing to this sweet-thing-of-an-island happens about 45 minutes after the landing. It happens when the traveler leaves all of the conditioned air and silver tubes and long lines and inspections and proof of this or proof of that and when he has been allowed to pass through multiple checks to a sliding door (with eyes) that says exit.

Yes – the passenger enters through the exit door. He walks to the wind and stands there. He holds his Yankee baseball cap and let’s the wind tear at his shirt. She stops a moment and looks at the sky and understands that she has landed NOW. The mountain of luggage has morphed from need–to-take to a royal pain and all that counts is that they are here. Wind greets them as does the “taxi-guy” He walks up to them wearing his yellow, green and red head piece and says TAXI ? You want to say hell yes but know to just smile. A car shows up and you are greeted and the luggage disappears into the rear and your door is opened. The “Missus” slips in to the back as your hand slips a few bucks in to the “taxi guys’” hand. Slip here, slip there. Then it comes. It has to be said out laud:

“Well we made it”

A special little squeeze of the hand or a quick lean on a shoulder. The words to the resort are mostly along the lines of “Look honey, they changed” … or “There it is – same as last time”.. or “Should we call and let them know?”…

Bell men and front desk people let you know you are home and the small lizard on the window sill let’s you know that he waited for a year and that something’s are timeless.

Showers will be taken, food will be eaten, short walks will be made and tired travel glances will be shared and then – in the dark with nothing but the air-conditioned sound in your ears and the same air into your lungs you will utter …“We did it - well we made it – we got away from it – paradise at last”

[LocaLisa]

What a story. I remember those stairs very well. At the bottom on the left hand there was this brass statue of a globe, on a very high metal pedestal. I used to play with my brothers running around it. I also remember when I lost sight of my family my parents one time. We were waiting on top for the arrival of some relatives, and some how I manage to go down faster then my parents. The airport was packed, so I got a bit scared. A man in white told me to wait for them next to this enormous plant that was in front of the entrance inside. So I sat there looking back at the stairs. After a while my mom shouted my name and I saw her infront of me. She was mad and relieved at the same time.

Those days are not coming back, but we are grateful for being able to relive it. Thanks!

[Castor]

Another beautiful story Charles, thanks for sharing!

[ruba4ever]

charles...I really love a story when I can visualize what is being described to me because I have lived it myself. Thank you so much for sharing.
ruba

[jsusanne]

[quote=charlescroes;66960]

“

The landing to this sweet-thing-of-an-island happens about 45 minutes after the landing. It happens when the traveler leaves all of the conditioned air and silver tubes and long lines and inspections and proof of this or proof of that and when he has been allowed to pass through multiple checks to a sliding door (with eyes) that says exit.

Well, Charles Croes, I have to add another verse to the modern arrival of the Lago kids when we arrive back on our the island of our birth or youth...we stop at your kiosk to pick up our reserved phone before heading out into our beloved wind!

My Class of 1962 just experienced nearly two weeks of incredible bliss after landing back into the beloved wind of our little island where life, as we know it, began for the kids of the expatriate employees of Lago Oil and Transport Co., Ltd.

We are now tagged with a label that helps to explain the eternal ties we feel to our home island: Third Culture Kids. More on that topic, later.

Meanwhile, it was another really wonderful return to our roots where we believe, collectively, that we were the luckiest kids in the world to have been born and raised on the little island in the wind of the southern Caribbean.

Susanne Gravendijk

[charlierat]

Originally Posted by jsusanne

Meanwhile, it was another really wonderful return to our roots where we believe, collectively, that we were the luckiest kids in the world to have been born and raised on the little island in the wind of the southern Caribbean.
Susanne Gravendijk

You just said a mouthful. I thank my lucky stars every single day that I was fortunate enough to be a "colony kid."

[JJWAruba]

Fantastic. Loved the post. We were just talking about how things have changed the other day. My mother - who still lives on the island - was visiting us here in Boston for a week (trying out the new Jet Blue service). Indeed, traveling used to be an event. An event you dressed up for and took pictures of (ideally next to or on the stairs up to the Eastern Airlines plane!). Travel in shorts, t-shirts, flip-flops, unheard of! I am certainly also glad that I have those memories - and thank-you for stirring them up again!

[ARUBA777]

Great Story Charles, Thanks For Sharing It With Us!