Roatan

Roatan. We flew in over the island and landed, taxiing down a strip of land right next to the water. There's nothing like arriving on an island and seeing the ocean from your plane window. The flight had been half full, at best, and it's the first time I've ever flown and not gotten the requisite “here are the exits, put your seatbelt together like this and if we land on water, here's how you will hope to survive” lecture. Lectures I generally ignore but I always check for 2 pieces of info: A. Where is the nearest exit door and how do i get there. And B. I reach under my seat and check for the inflatable vest or make sure I know how the seat comes apart so the cushion will float. That's it. I'm pretty good with a seatbelt so I'm not worried about that.

Plus, i was sitting in an exit row and no one seemed to care. Didn't get any questions about my ability to lift a 7 year old child (the estimated weight of the exit door if i have to open it manually) or my age (can't be a child, dontcha know).

I'm not sure what to make of the lack of lecture or concern on a Continental flight. Had it been Island Air, I would chalk it up to “Island style” otherwise known as “laid back” but this was an American airline post 9/11 and I definitely had to take my flip flops off during the security check so they could make sure I wasn't smuggling bombs, or anthrax or scissors, so... who knows.

So I read the exit door and figured out how to open it, checked for my vest, then kicked off my shoes and followed the pilot's instructions to “sit back and relax” while he took me to Roatan.
Once we arrived in Roatan, we went through customs. In my experience, customs in every country is a hassle but it's never a hassle in the same way. And it's always amusing, but again, never amusing for the same reasons. Unlike Cambodia where they auctioned off passports for varying amounts of cash or China where there are 5 levels of security to leave their country, in Roatan they figure one plane load of people needs one customs official.

One customs official on Island time...

There was a bonus official there to corral everyone into the office and tell them to stand in line, and then split them into two lines, but there's still only one official checking passports.

And two lines of people.

So the one line is moving – albeit slowly – and the other line is stationary and waiting patiently for... another official? To be told what to do in the second line? To be let back into the line they just left so they'll get out of the airport sometime today?

So, of course, I'm in this second line and I'll say this for travelers, they will stand in any line for any amount of time if there appears to be something happening at the head of the line. But when nothing happens for an unspecified amount of time – for Americans that magic number appears to be 5 minutes – the natives get restless. And start grumbling to their neighbors. And making remarks about the star bellied sneeches in the first line that SHOULD be letting the second line cut in since apparently that's the system around here...

The couple in front of me were Canadians who live half the year in Roatan and half the year in Canada and have two adopted babies with latino names and felt somewhat apologetic about the grumbling so they tried to play nice to the grumpy women behind them but then they finally shrugged and said, “we love our island but know for sure that when you cross that yellow line up there, you are definitely in another country.”

And all along I'm thinking, where in the world do you have to go in Roatan that's so important you can't wait for 15 minutes in line? What are you missing? Whatever it is, I guarantee you, it's all going to be there in half an hour.

Take a deep breath. Welcome to the island.