Earl and I returned from our trip to the Panama Canal last night. Early this morning he headed to the drug store with his rolls of film in hand, eager to get them developed so that we could relive a wonderful trip.
I, on the other hand, had already developed snapshots in my memory, most of which will not show up in any album. Nevertheless, when I think of this trip they will be among the highlights.
I remember Jabar, a young Jamaican on the cruise ship who waited on us for the first time. I don’t mean that it was our first time seeking a cocktail; I mean Jabar had never taken a drink order before. Naturally everything that could go wrong did to the point where Sydney, the headwaiter in the bar, apologized profusely and promised to take better care of us next time. Which he did.
However, we saw Jabar on several occasions, and what we noticed most was how much he had begun to master his job by the end of our ten-day trip. He knew the name of the Drink of the Day, knew how to add and subtract, and also how to bring cookies with our afternoon libations. He had grown in confidence as well; we even saw him dancing a bit at the Captain’s Reception as he offered cocktails to the guests.
I remember Grand Cayman, not for what we saw but for what we didn’t see. Hurricane Ivan devastated much of the Cayman shoreline last fall; so where once there were beautiful beaches and lovely homes, there were now only tattered remnants.
Originally we had signed on for a kayaking experience, but our guide made sure it was more than that. He took time to describe how the area had looked before Ivan arrived, and I thought he approached tears. The mangroves which lived at the juncture of beach and water all around the island were particularly hard hit; no, they were obliterated. And since mangroves grow especially slowly, it’s likely the guide will not see them again on Grand Cayman in his lifetime.
Then there were the two guides in Belize. The one, our driver, had been accepted at the university as an archeology student and was relinquishing his job as soon as the school term started. The other had already been to school and spoke English, Spanish, and Creole fluently. I put my life in his hands to swing from platform to platform high above the jungle floor.
Part of these people’s jobs is to make sure tourists enjoy themselves. And we certainly did. But I believe another unspoken part is to represent their countries by being themselves and showing us how eager and able to learn people are, regardless of where they come from or what they do for a living. Our experience was richer and fuller, not only for seeing the marvels of different countries, but also for rubbing shoulders with their citizens.
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