Tactile The World

Journal #3: Castaway

8 01 2010

Tactile The World

Pacific-Asia Journal #3: Castaway

THE FIJI ISLANDS

December 24 – 29, 2009

The angel, Christine, sat on my right shoulder with her beautiful wings spread out and a smile that melted hearts and there was always an innocent gleam in her eyes. Christine often was the voice of reason, reminding the human Coco of faith, prayer and caution. Her nemesis, the archangel Coco, dressed in all of her splendored red, wore this mischievous smile on her face and whipped out her cane wit delight and spoke of impulsivity and desire. The human Coco listened intentively to both of her companions intentively, weighing each side before making a decision.

Both of the angels were ever so present on the plane when I flew on the Air Pacific Flight 811 from Los Angeles to Nadi, Fiji Islands, on December 22^nd. One voice was telling me to forego the week-long extended vacation in Fiji and spend Christmas in Auckland as planned. The other voice, with mischief, told me that I should make it happen, ask for an extension and get to see the exotic peninsula of islands that had a great reputation for sunsets, beaches and cultural treats.

“See Fiji’s sunsets and beaches before you go blind,” Coco nudged me, and that sure sounded tempting.

“But you’re Deafblind and alone… anything could happen to you – better safe than sorry. Go directly to Auckland like planned” the other voice gently whispered into my mind.

I had looked up a host on the Couchsurfing website a day before I left, and contacted Aine in Nadi for a place to stay in case I decided to stay in Fiji. She responded quickly and said she had a bed available – so there was a place ready for me if this “plan” had worked.

I had eight hours to decide. To decide, I closed my eyes. Before I knew it, I was in Nadi, the capital city of Fiji at 5:30am on December 24^th.

After picking up my backpack from the baggage claim and being guided by the airport assistance patron, I arrived at the Air Pacific ticket counter with my marker and paper ready.

“I wonder if it’s possible to request a 5-day long layover in Fiji and leave for Auckland on the 29^th?” I wrote.

A nice man working for Air Pacific wrote back, “Yes, but it will cost you $100 U.S. Dollars,” and smiled. I didn’t have this much money, and if I did, I’d spend it on food and hostels in Fiji. And especially when my budget was cut in half from purchasing the ticket to Australia.

“But I don’t have much money. Can I talk to a manager,” I looked at him with a look of a puppy wanting something. He shook his head ‘no’, and gestured that the head office for Air Pacific would be open at 9AM. My flight for Auckland leaves at 8:30AM. Not enough time to talk my way out of this flight – so it was a lost cause.

Then the man’s eyes widened and so did his smile. He pointed to someone behind me, so I looked. It was a tall Fijian man, with a gray polo shirt and ironed slacks. He came over, with an inquiring look. The badge plate on his chest read: AIR PACIFIC MANAGER.

Oh my goodness!

“I’m Deaf with a condition that will soon completely blind me,” I wrote, “and I want to see the much-talked about Fijian sunset before that happens.’

‘I’ll also help the Fijian tourism with my funds if you waive the $100 fee,”I continued.

The manager, who looked stone-cold when he approached me, broke into a warm smile, patted my back and nodded a permissive yes.

I was handed an alternate ticket from Nadi to Auckland for the 29^th. Now all I had to do was have someone call Aine and have her come pick me up. Aine usually has a lot of couchsurfers come stay with her, and she tells them to hail a cab to her place. But knowing my disabilities, she said she’d come to get me personally.

The short, blonde, stocky Irishwoman appeared before my eyes, with her mouth gaped open. Little did she actually believe that I was Deaf AND Blind, so it blew her away to see me standing there with my cane and my button ‘DEAF AND LOW-VISION’ pinned on my tank top.

Aine drove me to her white-and-blue painted little house on the outskirts of Nadi. It had a great view of the mountains on the mainland of Fiji from the front veranda of her house. Three Doberman dogs, friendly as they were, greeted us at the gate. One was huge, the middle one medium sized, and there was also a tiny one – the puppy – and all were so happy to greet another couchsurfing visitor.

Once I got in Aine’s house, I met another couchsurfer from Los Angeles by the name of Crystal. Multicolored tattoos adorned her body, covering her shoulders, arms, legs and back – it was art. I immediately knew that I would connect with this American chick.

The first ten minutes I got in the house, Aine told me that Crystal was headed to Mana Island that very morning, and it was arranged by Vanu, who is her Fijian husband’s cousin who is a travel agent. Vanu showed up to pick up Crystal, and in the meanwhile, he told me that it would cost me around $150 American dollars for four nights on this island’s hostel, food and boat from Nadi to Mana and back. Or I would wait until the next day and travel to Mana alone. The notion of travelling with Crystal was, in a sense, safer and fun. So I told him to go ahead.

I asked Aine if I could email my Dad to let him know that I’ve arrived in Fiji and had decided to stay here. Aine said that the boat would be leaving very soon, and that the hostel had internet. So I figured I’d contact him once I got to the island.

Aine and Vanu bid us goodbye and we were on our way to the shoreline of Nadi to catch a dingyboat to Mana. I checked my wallet to see if I could exchange some American money into Fiji dollars and was shocked to find $60 missing.

“My money’s missing!” I wrote to Crystal in the car. Rightfully so, she was pissed, but she didn’t look shocked, either. ‘My $200 is missing as well. Let me call Aine and tell her.’

What? Her money’s missing? Both of us were at Aine’s. I didn’t know what to think. Crystal wrote back to me saying that she suspected Vanu went in our rooms the day before and today, to steal under our noses.

Aine blew her top and told Crystal that she would take care of the bastard, regardless of his position in her husband’s family tree. She told us to enjoy our time on Mana and not to worry about a thing.

Travelling the globe, this was bound to happen, but I was determined not to let this bother me. At least I had all of my important belongings – camera, passport and insurance information. That’s all mattered.

On the boat to Mana, I met a young family – a mother, father and two very young children – from Switzerland who were travelling the world for 5 months; young fellas Mark and Andy from the United Kingdom; and some Fijian passengers. We arrived at the Mana Lagoon Backpackers Hostel in time for lunch, and before we dove in the delicious Fijian cuisine, we got a musical treat from the staff who welcomed us warmly to the hotel with an ukuele and song.

I asked the sweet manager of the hostel if I could use the internet to contact my Dad, but he wrote that the generator would not go on until 7PM.

The better part of the afternoon was spent drinking Fijian beer on the beautiful white beach in front of the hostel, meeting new people, canoodling with the friendly staff and swimming in the clear turquoise blue Pacific ocean with all of its coral reef glory.

Crystal joined me for this splendid afternoon on the sand and she looked positively at peace standing chest-deep in the ocean with her beer can hoisted up in the air.

Once Crystal had a chance to get her cell phone, she got a call from Aine.

This Irishwoman has balls.

Crystal penned what happened with Vanu and Aine as soon as she hung up on the Irishwoman and the entire time Crystal wrote down, she had this smirk on her face. I was piqued.

Pretty much Aine was royally pissed at Vanu for breaching the trust of her lodgers, and this would mean that she would get bad reviews on Couchsurfing. Aine loved getting visitors and damned if she was going to let Vanu ruin this for her.

Being the wife of an British Commonwealth army officer, Aine faced Vanu with gusto – she punched him in the face and threatened him with a knife to get him to confess to stealing the money. Vanu confessed to doing so, and I got my money back. I love this woman, she’s got balls of steel! Crystal and I laughed in admiration and sighed a breath of relief. Karma was going to bite Vanu – hard.

In the evening, I sat on the beach alone, my back against a small white rowboat, and watched simply the most stunning sunset of my life. This sunset, a deep red, orange, yellow and blue, rivaled the sunset I saw in the Philippines back in 2002. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I painted this image in my mind, hoping it’d stay in there forever. This kind of beauty is so piercing, it’d make me cry, smile, forget all kinds of pain and war in this world. To make it more of a blessing, there were around 15 small Fijian children happily frolicking in the ocean, laughing and being raucous. Children being children. The ripples from their child’s play made the reflection of the evening sun play out as if it were musical waves with strands of bright light. As the sun disappeared into the vast horizon of the Pacific, the children exited the water and came to me. Fascinated by my cane and my smile, they wrote in the sand little messages like a heart, peace sign and ‘who you?’

I gestured that I couldn’t hear and see well. A girl, maybe eight years old, took my hand and led me back to the hostel stairs. A gesture of kindness on Christmas Eve.

I was disappointed to find out that the internet café at the hostel closed early (but didn’t open at all, because of the generator) for Christmas Eve. I was told that it might open the next day. My father must be wondering where I am.

I was greeted by the hot sun seeping through my private room I shared with Crystal. She was up and gone before 7AM, so I trudged around the room, hungry for breakfast. I met up with my new Fijian friends – one man was a dead ringer for the now notoriously-famous Tiger Woods and aptly nicknamed that by me; a young lad by the name of Miji and his sister Suli; a feisty lady named Nana. They broke the news that the internet was closed today because of the holiday, but I could try again the next day after 7PM when the generator came on. Oh boy. I wanted to let my Dad know I was here, alive, happy and enjoying my stay on this gorgeous island. But oh well.

Christmas Day was spent on a speed boat with several international backpackers – two Danes, Andreas and Rasmus; a Frenchwoman Marion; Andy and Mark; Crystal and I along with Tiger Woods, the dreadlocked Polynesian-Fijian Adam and the boatman. We hopped on five islands, ate a delicious Polynesian BBQ and snorkeled among coral reef. Such an awe-inspiring day with cool folk.

Christmas night brought us a special treat – a Polynesian fire dance, Fijian traditional culture dance and good food. I met cool people from New Zealand who promised me a beer once we all got into Auckland after our trip to Fiji. And another couple from Sydney. It was great making connections from all over the world, on a tiny island like this one.

My last full day, the 26^th, was spent on the beach reading the last chapters of Deepak Chopra’s biography of Siddhartha the Prince, “Buddha, a story of Enlightenment” and bottles of Fijian Gold beer, overlooking the white sandy beach of Mana. In the evening, I was able to score some time on the internet but strangely enough, it barred me from using Gmail. More complications and delays. I wondered if my Dad would be ok with this and not worrying himself to death?

On the 27^th of December, I boarded the boat back to Nadi with Marion, a solo backpacker from the south of France who was travelling the world for her own reasons which was to learn English. She had not known a word of English two weeks prior to meeting me, and it was amazing to see her complete sentences in nearly good English. Marion was also a couchsurfer, so we headed over to Aine’s.

The three dogs happily greeted us at the gate once again, and the evening was spent writing back and forth with Aine. She wanted to know more about who I was, and vice versa.

I finally got the chance to read my emails. First on the agenda was writing a pleasantly vibrant, informative email to my father, explaining the delay and my sheer happiness in having had the chance to see a gorgeous Fijian sunset on Christmas Day. Once that was sent out, I got an email from my friend, Sonia in Auckland cautioning me that my father had called the New Zealand police on Christmas Day (a day after I landed in Fiji) that I was missing and that the phone number for her hearing boyfriend wasn’t going through. He was extremely worried that I had not contacted him immediately. After more hours and days with no response from me, I was alerted to the Interpol as a missing person.

Oy vey. On the International Police’s missing persons list? *gulp*

I love my father deeply, but sometimes I think he overreacts, overprotects and loves me very much. I got Aine’s number to him and he called, finally. He was understandably pissed, shaken but relieved that his little girl was okay, intact and happy. I got a lot of scolding, bold words and insistence that I keep up contact with him so he doesn’t have a heart attack.

But I reminded him that I was adventurous, impulsive and happier ‘out there’ and he knows it ever since the day I was born.

To sum Fiji up, it was bold and colorful like its sunsets, unpredictable like its electricity, and lovely like its people. I got my miracle, I got to spend Christmas among people who took care of me, and to witness such a gift in itself – seeing this piece of the world in its isolated beauty during a time when the world celebrated spirituality and love.

Comments : 1 Comment »

Categories : Blogroll

#2: Expect The Unexpected

4 01 2010

2: Expect The Unexpected

LOS ANGELES

December 16 – 22

Whenever I’d fly out to any American city, I would cross the border from Ontario, Canada to Burlington, Vermont and fly out. It was so much cheaper – by hundreds of dollars – to fly out domestically than internationally. But of course, there was an even better reason to visit Burlington, a mere 2 ½ hours away from Cornwall, and that was to visit my dear friend Keri and her young family. I always enjoyed the time I spent with her and her husband, both Deaf, and their two adorable young sons, who are hearing. The oldest, Lochlan, is an expressive boy at four, signing in American Sign Language and is even cuter when he attempts to use Tactile with me when I cannot understand his tiny signing. Kalle, at only 13 months old, knows some signs – fish, touchdown and Papa, among others. Their house, situated in the Northern Vermont mountains, was a solitary retreat for me – to be amongst nature and friends. It was a bonus there was a hot tub, too. Even with snow there, I felt better – it was a true winter wonderland.

I flew in Los Angeles from Burlington on the 16^th of December, with great anticipation for a more warmer weather and Mexican food and tactiling with my college pals. Warmer weather, by ten degrees Fahrenheit more, was a welcoming feeling to my body. I could wear a thin long sleeved jacket in the evenings and just a t-shirt in the daytime.

My college pal, Salatiel, picked me up from the airport. I was exchanged to him by this airport assistance patron who had escorted me from the gate to the baggage area. I wore a purple pin with large yellow print words: DEAF & LOW-VISION, so that people would understand why I used a cane and still could see somewhat, but with no hearing at all.

Once I got to Sal’s home, the aroma of freshly cooked El Salvadoran food wafted in the air. He remembered my favourite Latino meal, and told his mother – a refugee from El Salvador during their civil war – to whip me up some authentic spicy chile rellenos. I was in taste-bud heaven.

Sal works at an inner-city public school that housed a very large (and unnoticeable, to me, at least) Deaf program with 150 Angeleno kids, in the junior and high school levels. It was the last day of school before the holiday break began, and the Deaf kids at Marlton School celebrated with baked goods, small novelty gifts and a school formal dance in the afternoon. I had the honour of talking to the grade seven and eight classes that Sal taught, about my Deafblindhood, the travels I did and why I advocate for educational and social rights for Deaf and Deafblind people. These kids were really sweet and inquisitive, asking me how much I could see, why I decided to travel, where my home is, and what I would do with my life.

I have done this kind of thing, speaking at schools like Marlton, for the past 3 years and it’s easily one of the best places for me to come. These kids just crave learning. And in turn, I know that future generations of Deafblind people, and the older ones, too, would be in the company of these kids who learned that Deafblind people were just as capable as the sighted people are, if they were empowered.

For a short and sweet weekend, I got out of the gigantic, smog-filled and interesting city of Los Angeles for the quieter, barren area of Riverside, California – a mere hour’s drive away, to meet up with some college friends I hadn’t seen in quite a while. I love travelling to places and meeting up with old faces and talking about old times and the future, and knowing that they are doing well for themselves in the present.

Not long left until I fly to New Zealand, Sal and his friend, Gus, wanted to give me a quickie tour of what Los Angeles’ most popular tourist spots had to offer. In Sal’s Japanese car, his pride, they took me to visit Griffith Park and its observatory (what a trip, seeing such a vast city in its lighted splendor with an eerie sky fitting for Armageddon), Sunset Boulevard, the Walk of Fame (I laid my cane beside Ray Charles’ star; did a mini moonwalk on Michael Jackson’s; said “I Kiss Fist You” in sign language to the star bearing Marlee Matlin’s name) and took a little tour outside of Grauman Theatre, Kodak Theatre and the Scientology Temple. The tour ended well into the wee hours of the night and it was a great way to end my trip in Los Angeles.

On December 22, I packed up my belongings and waited for Shmuel to pick me up to have coffee and chat before the airport. LAX was only 15 minutes away, so we thought it’d be fine to arrive at around 7:30pm. My flight leaves at 9:30pm, so I would have two hours to get my ticket and bags checked in before I flew out of the city of angels.

What could go wrong went wrong.

When I got to the Air Pacific counter, I showed my passport and pointed to my large Deuter World Traveler backpack as the item to check in. The agent looked at the screen and immediately looked grim. She was already a stone-cold, unfazed person when I arrived, but only became more of that, with a scowl on her face.

‘Do you have a ticket out of New Zealand,’ she wrote in black marker.

I shook my head no, and wondered why. My plan was to get to New Zealand, give my lecture, and raise funds to get to Cambodia then buy the one-way ticket with that money.

‘Well, then, you can’t go.’ She wrote, almost coldly.

What on earth? I looked at Shmuel in shock. He was as surprised as I was, and my mood shifted into being concerned that this trip, like I had predicted when Kevin bought the ticket online, wasn’t going to happen.

‘Can you tell me other options, ma’am?’ I wrote, hoping my diplomatic attitude would lighten her up and she’d ease into informing me of my options with a smile. But no, she wrote in hard, big scrawls: ‘without a return ticket, you cannot go. It’s the policy with New Zealand immigration. Please buy a return ticket to Los Angeles, and now.’

No way.

I was not going to return to Los Angeles in January. I had my dreams and heart set on being in Cambodia, to work with Ronise on our special project for the Deafblind people of that country.

‘Ma’am, I don’t intend to return here. Can’t you call Immigration and explain my situation? I am going to buy my ticket in New Zealand as soon as funds come in’. I protested.

She shook her head and gave me an annoyed glare.

I gestured, Come on.

‘Go to Eva Air and see if you can get a ticket for Cambodia from Auckland, then return here with the proof. Then we’ll let you board the flight to Fiji’ she wrote, and there was only 30 minutes left until the check-in baggage deadline. Was I going to make it?

Shmuel and I rushed to Eva Air ticket counter, but there were seemingly hundreds of Asians lined up. Christmas holiday travel never was this annoying to me until now. But luck showed up, a ticket attendant with Eva saw my cane and approached me, guided me to the counter – bypassing the hundreds of people. It helps to be disabled, sometimes.

We looked into flights from Auckland to Phnom Penh for January, but they said they only sell tickets for flights from Los Angeles to Cambodia. Damn.

We ran back to Air Pacific and broke the bad news. The grumpy woman was replaced by four staff members, a delicate situation this was. My ticket wasn’t refundable, and it was going to be hard if I wanted to change my ticket.

‘If you buy a ticket from Auckland to Sydney, Australia, right now, it’s 300 US Dollars. If you buy that now, you can go to Fiji.’ One man wrote.

Sydney?! AUSTRALIA?

I stammered. I stalled. I fumbled. I remembered I only had $800 in my bank account, for the entire month of January. Not for December, mind you. If I bought this ticket, I would continue to New Zealand, but I would be a little more broke for January. Worth the risk?

HECK YES!

I remembered I had friends in Melbourne, Brisbane and maybe Sydney. I had thought it would be cool to visit the Outback and see kangaroos, but never have I thought at this moment it would be reality.

So I went ahead and emptied half of my bank account to buy a one-way ticket to Australia, guaranteeing my flight to New Zealand.

Whew. Just in the nick of time. The prospect of going to Oz was exciting! Once I get to New Zealand, I’d have to figure out how to survive Australia for 2 weeks and how to get to Cambodia. It won’t be easy but with luck, chance, prayers, love and maybe donations, it could happen.

After hugging Shmuel goodbye, the Air Pacific flight attendant on standby grabbed my arm, and we ran towards the security checkpoint. We passed, then scurried like two little mice towards the ever aromatic cheese, and when we got to the gate – we savored the taste of freedom. I was enroute to Nadi, Fiji Islands, at 9:30pm.

Holding my ticket to Australia, and seated in 31H, I chuckled and thought to myself: expect the unexpected.

Comments : Leave a Comment »

Categories : Blogroll

Pacific Asia Journal #1: How It All Began

4 01 2010

Tactile The World

Pacific-Asia 2010

1: How It All Began

CORNWALL, ONTARIO, CANADA

Fall of 2009

Snow was piling up inch by inch on the ground in front of my father’s house in Cornwall and the heat was cranked up to a whole another level. I was sweating in my fleece pyjamas, but as soon as I would set out the door in the freezing December weather, I would shiver a 4.0 on the Richter scale. I dreaded winters as they came and went, rejoiced when springtime rolled around the corner. Despite being a Canadian, I hated wintertime – my body didn’t react well to Jack Frost and his white wonderland. My joints would lock up and I’d shiver so badly that I became so uncomfortable walking, sleeping or sitting. After living in Africa for some time during the span of sixteen months, I acknowledged that my body functioned better in warm weather.

Trying my darnedest to stay warm, I wished I would be somewhere warm. The Southern Hemisphere would be warm this time of the year, I thought. I recalled how my plan to travel to Taipei, Taiwan for the 2009 Deaflympics fell through due to budget problems, and if it had worked out I would have been in Cambodia by now, sitting outside in warm weather, on a green patch of lush grass in the valleys of Kampot. Each day that passed during the fall I thought about where I wanted to go, what to see. I was still determined to see more of the world before all of my sight went, but as the darkness of fall nights came earlier, my hopes dimmed more.

Admittedly, I suffer from Seasonal Affectual Disorder (S.A.D.), becoming mildly depressed during the dark seasons. By staying at home with my father in a small, inaccessible town with nearly no Deaf friends in the area, I felt melancholy most days. I was home because of the Taipei trip not working out, and because I wanted to take care of my ailing father. He has a few health problems, and having his daughter around seemed to brighten up his days. Every night I went to sleep, I dreamed of travelling – to Asia, India, Antarctica, underwater and space. I wanted to be anywhere but here.

Early November came with a warm surprise and the weather wasn’t that cold as it was, historically. Dad knew I wanted to travel, see more of the world, and surprised me with a weeklong trip to Republicana Dominicana with my two friends – Sarah and Denise – for my early 30^th birthday. That trip injected something fercocious in my, and I got my second wind. At the end of the trip, I was determined to pull myself out of my SAD and get out there.

With no time to spare, I made a powerpoint with all the places I’d wanted to see and experience before I went completely blind, and made connections with people I knew in New Zealand, Cambodia, China, Japan and India. One notion was that I’d give some kind of lecture or workshop for the Deaf associations and development centers, and that would make for inspiration and fundraising. I sent many packages out to charity organizations with the powerpoint, and emailed hundreds of people with the powerpoint. Weeks passed and no word, no donation.

It didn’t look good. Even to that point where I had to think of a Plan B. What would I do for the remainder of the brutal winter? Stay cooped up in the house, more depressed than ever? Volunteer with Voluntary Services Overseas again? Find temporary work somewhere until the summer? I didn’t like the first and last option – so I went ahead and printed out an application for VSO in case.

Then the miracle came.

A fellow freespirit and wanderer, Kevin, emailed me to tell me he wanted to visit me in Cornwall. He just landed in the States from a two month long stay in Taiwan after the Deaf Olympics, and a cross country train trip from Eastern Europe through Russia to China before that. Kevin, a Deaf man in his mid-30s had just finished school and thought he’d forge ahead and spend time travelling the world. And he chose the tiny hamlet of Cornwall, a paper factory town with a river separating Ontario from the New York State border. More than happy to have a friend visit, I welcomed him with open arms. I would make sure he felt right at home, well-rested and well-fed before he jetted off to Europe, continuing his travels.

As the week went past, Kevin told me he wanted to see me fly. Be a freespirit again. He mused that I was like a caged bird, unable to fly and be who I was. With a melancholy look, I agreed. I wasn’t free, and I felt suffocated.

He asked me when I wanted to go to New Zealand. ‘Maybe before Christmas,’ I said. Then he dragged me up to the guest room where he opened up a travel booking site. He typed in ‘Ottawa to New Zealand’. My mouth gaped in shock and uneasiness.

‘What’s going on, Kevin? What are you doing?’ I stammered. I could not afford this. I was living on provincial disability support payments and it was not enough to travel to a far away country like New Zealand by air.

‘I’m going to buy the one-way ticket for you, Coco. I want to see you happy, doing what you do best – inspiring people and being an extraordinary person. You’re stuck here, but you shouldn’t be. So this is my gift. You’re going to New Zealand’, Kevin beamed.

‘No way. Seriously? Oh my god.’ I hugged him. But secretly, I dreaded the moment when a glitch would happen, just like it did with the airline ticket I had booked for Taipei. It had been declined at the last minute due to a faulty credit card. So I didn’t want to pin my hopes up on the same website Kevin was making the booking on, not until I had the absolute confirmation that I was going.

Then the email came.

Ms. Christine Roschaert

Vermont – Los Angeles – Fiji – New Zealand

CONFIRMED.

Then the next chapter of my life began.

Comments : Leave a Comment »

Categories : Blogroll

Tactile The World

Search

Links

Blogroll