There is nothing like an international move to teach one the art of rolling with the waves, in a manner of speaking. I should know this by now. But today I set out ambitiously energetic about my plans, fully expecting to systematically whittle down my to-do list. The island had other plans . . .
First on my list was the licensing department, which I had noted was within walking distance of my place. After prayer meeting last night, I met with the elders and discussed the logistics of my work here. One of which was driving the van, which requires first switching to a Caymanian License and then taking the test to get a “Class 3” added, in order to safely transport a crew of youngsters in the Church van.
So at 8:15am I walked to the door to discover an 11:00am opening time. Back home. Returning promptly at 11:00, I found a new note pasted on the door. “Due to power outage, management has required doors to be locked until power returns. We apologize for the inconvenience.” Back home—where I found I too was enjoying said outage—so much for online work I had as a back-up plan.
Instead I set out in the opposite direction for the bank. Having already contacted my home bank, gone online for the checklist of materials, and talked to my local branch here, I thought I was prepared with all the letters of reference, work permit, proof of address, etc. “I thought” . . .
Once at the bank, I discovered that the letter I had acquired from the elders last night, affirming my residence here, listed my mailing address not the physical address—so it was useless to me, not fulfilling the bank’s requirements after all. So much for that errand.
Back home. Well, not quite. Here is where my sheepish confession comes in:
How can I possibly be concerned about waylaid plans when the walk home from the bank just happens to go past the beach—and when I just happened to go with a beach tote in hand, just in case it were to come in handy. Even at the time, I did realize the irony of the fact that I was filling out banking paperwork while laying on the sand drying out from my swim.
Before you tease me too mercilessly, however, I should add that once I did make it home, I returned to the licensing department. By this time, power being back on, the office was open. So I am now the proud owner of a snazzy Caymanian driver’s license ☺
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3 comments:
I'm so jealous...living in paradise. Wow. Wow!
Dear friend, please reconsider the pic of your license- or at least cover up your address? The mom in me is worried about your safety!
A step in the right direction. I hope some island ways will rub off on you. Here, on Tybee, you know you're a local when you can say you're living on Tybee time, which means, you'll get to your business as soon as you've gotten your beach time in.
To more days full of swimming.
blow off work and errands. it's good for you.
Thank you both--Kel for the good advice [i dumbly assumed it was too small to see. i should know better!], and Cassie, for the good affirmation. this island life is indeed doing me well, as my spirit calms and my skin browns :-)
The guest room awaits both of you dears!
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