1st Sight

My Nike trainers hit the Mauritius soil, forming two foreign footprints.
I looked around at the sparsely set palm trees. They swayed in the air. I took in deep breaths. Paradise awaited. Kell fumbled with her papers.
People rushed by us to get taxis from the airport. We took our time.
I rolled all of my bags behind me, one I kept empty for gifts. The other bag, I held onto like gold, because it contained all of my clothes.
I still wore a blue Southern University t-shirt, to rep where I came from, and the same sweater and jeans that I left America in two days ago. All comfortable but I needed a bath.
The airline didn’t deliver Kell’s luggage on time. She filed a report. They gave her about 1,550 Rupees or 50 USD. (Later, I wondered why one would need for a 1,000 bill, or even 3,000 when it only would equal to a mere 120 USD. All those big bills for nothing.) Kell wasn’t too outdone because she still had her carry on, which she filled with as much clothes as possible. She figured something like that would happen. I reassured her that her bags would come.
A cab driver came up ready for his next patrons. We were ready to see what other adventures awaited.
At first sight, I figured we downgraded a just bit because the airport had no food courts and everything was housed on the same floor, departures and arrivals. Then, we had to do so much paperwork. I didn’t see many computers or any televisions. America airports have televisions everywhere and plugs for computer stations. Maybe natives liked the simple life.
When we did get into a cab, I hopped in the front seat. Unlike in America, the driver drove on the right side and not the left. I thought I could get used to riding on the left. It just seemed funny that I didn’t have a wheel in front of me.
From the airport it took an hour’s drive to get to the hotel. I had no proper sleep for a while, but my adrenaline pumped and I didn’t want to miss a thing. Kell passed out on the backseat. I guess she grew tired of keeping watch.
We passed through the countryside. Everything looked as deserted as the airport looked. And there were sugarcane fields everywhere. A lot of the homes looked abandoned, only to me. No curtains hung in the windows, you could see straight through the dusty thin glass held up by brick pillars. No car parked in the driveway, sparse furniture sat in every other house on auburn clay floors, ragged clothes hung from lines, and rickety, crooked tin fences guarded the domain. No one painted their brick pillars, either.
I figured there mustn’t be a Martha Stewart on the island. It begged and cried for serious decoration. The little color came from the clay floors and different shades of dirt, leaving many things dull and gray.
Our driver didn’t play music, so we rolled quietly over hills covered with cane and with beautiful mountains as their backdrop.
I figured the higher ups must be in town. But even when we made it into town (Port Louis) there were some of the same things. Everyone hung clothes out to dry. And quietly passed each other, without much acknowledgement. Except Port Louis had busses and cars that emitted huge amounts of pollution. I immediately hated to get stuck close behind one of those raggedy things because the foul air choked me. It seemed to have no effect on the driver. I’d gone two days without a bath and didn’t feel dirty, but stayed 1 minute behind that bus and I felt grimy.
Even their bikes put out pollution. They drove refurbished mopeds everywhere, with the top speed probably only going up to 45-50 mph. But Mauritians would get on the interstate and putt-putt, putt-putt to get to where they going, no matter how long it would take. Or how fast a bus or car passed them up.
After my mini sightseeing tour, I just wanted to get to the hotel for a nice, warm bath. And maybe some rest.
During the journey, I needed to stay alert for predators, conartists, thieves and time the next flight. I needed to be mobile and coherent. I thought about rest. Humm… I thought. I won’t be on an airplane or airport. I’ll be away from baby noise, engine noise, PA noise. Nah, I’ll Get SOME Rest. I can stretch my long legs all.. the.. way… out.