Conflicted Destiny - Season 1 Episode 43

Episode 8 years ago

Conflicted Destiny - Season 1 Episode 43

The next day, we went to the Ocho Rios waterfall and walked the trail. It was very long, and by the time we got to the waterfall, we were exhausted. There were many tourists at the site, most of them from the U.S. The good thing about interacting with other tourists is that there’s always some new information to glean from someone. One of them told us that the biggest reggae splash in Jamaica was scheduled to take place in Ocho Rios in three days. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me because I had always wanted to attend one. Everybody seemed excited about the event and I wasn’t going to miss it for anything in the world..
Two days later, we decided to explore Montego Bay. The famous Montego Bay beach was exactly as it had been described. Maria Joana sunbathed on the beach while I went jet skiing. Later, we rode on a banana boat and in a two-person kayak. After a very pleasant day, we headed back to Ocho Rios.
The reggae splash was to take place on our sixth day at Ocho Rios at 5 p.m. and would go on all night long. Unfortunately, that morning I was struck by malaria and could not get out of bed. I tried everything humanly possible to make myself well, but it was in vain. By evening my condition had deteriorated, but I was still determined to go to the reggae splash. I had never been one to allow sickness to deter me from accomplishing my goals and was also a firm believer in the saying that sickness is just a weakness leaving the body. With that in mind, I kept drinking lots of water and eating to regain some energy. Maria Joana was hopeful that I would get better because she also wanted to go to the event. By four o’clock I convinced myself that I was well enough to go. I staggered up from the bed and got dressed, and as we were about to leave our room, I felt lightheaded, but I continued pushing. When I got to the street, I blacked out. Fortunately, Maria Joana was by my side and I was able to hang onto her to keep from falling. Moments after I recovered, she made the decision for us and we returned to the hotel room.
The next morning I felt much better. After breakfast, we decided to confront the elephant in the room: our impending separation. I told her that I had decided where I wanted to go from there. My confidence in the David English passport was boosted after traveling to so many countries without a problem, so I thought I should try my luck in Canada. After much deliberation, it was settled: she would pay for my flight to Toronto and give me some money. She said she loved me unconditionally and would always be there for me. I thanked her for her kindness and for everything she had done for me. I told her I would never forget her, and if I become successful in the future, I would come and find her.
On the eighth day, Maria Joana left Ocho Rios and returned to the Dominican Republic, then flew back to Spain from there. As soon as she departed, I bought my ticket to Toronto.
I spent the five- to six-hour flight wondering what would happen to me when I arrived in Canada. At the Toronto airport, I disembarked like the other passengers and went successfully through immigration. Just when I thought I was home-free, I was asked to go for a secondary check at customs. Apparently, Canadians paid special attention to flights from Jamaica because Jamaicans were known as the biggest drug pushers in Toronto. All my bags were opened and emptied. Before the search, the customs officer had asked for my passport and looked closely at it. After a while he called another officer to look at it as well. At that point I thought my game was up, but I maintained a straight face and did not show the slightest sign of nervousness. When they decided to go through my bags afterward, I was convinced they had caught me. When they asked me questions, I answered in a blend of Jamaican and British accents to justify my British passport. I calmly told them I was a British citizen and that I was visiting family members in Jamaica with my girlfriend, who had returned to Spain while I had decided to visit Toronto for a week before continuing on to Spain. They ransacked all my stuff for more than twenty minutes while I waited for them to tell me that I would be detained, but to my greatest surprise, they put all my things back in my bag, handed me my passport, and welcomed me to Canada. It took all my effort to contain myself. I calmly collected my bags and proceeded to the exit. I hailed an airport taxi and asked the driver to take me to any hotel in downtown Toronto.
The taxi driver dropped me at one of the most expensive hotels I had seen so far: the Marriot Hotel. I paid one hundred and thirty dollars for the night, but I didn’t mind. I desperately needed a good night’s sleep. By the time I checked in and got refreshed, it was late. I went out and walked around the downtown area, asking where the refugee asylum camp was located. I also tried to find out where the Jamaican neighborhood was. The Jamaicans in Toronto seemed notorious and I assumed they would know a thing or two about how I could get into the U.S. from Canada, as well as how I could go about getting refugee status and a place to stay. I gathered all the information I needed in a few hours. On the way back to my hotel, I noticed that the people on the streets were in a jubilant mood. Apparently, the Canadian hockey team had just won the hockey championship. I joined in the celebration for a while.