My trip started off with a bad omen. The captain of the Air Canada airplane at the Vancouver International Airport was late fifteen minutes due to the "traffic" in town. Yes, the public announcement by the stewardess said it was due to "traffic" —on the road. I overheard one passenger whisper, "Where's that idiot?" The whole plane waited for this silly captain.
The flight itself was not too bad. It took eleven hours to reach Sankta Lazaro Airport. I had terrible gas on the plane, though. That was terrible. It must have been the potatoes for lunch. I saw The Matrix, an old science fiction movie, to pass the time. I could not really sleep. Perhaps I napped for less than an hour.
Sankta Lazaro Airport was small, but very modern. It was a breeze through customs. All the natives seemed friendly and always smiled. My luggage made it safely.
I stepped out of the airport and took a cab for my hotel. The cab was a top-model Mercedes Benz. Only North Americans would notice that.
As the taxi made its way through the town, I was in awe. All the buildings were white-washed. Some of the roofs would be in bold reds and blues, or pastel pinks and purples. Sankta Lazaro was a very pretty place. All the bright colours were for reflecting the bright sunlight, the taxi driver said.
I checked in at Hotelo Valentino. It was a beautiful hotel. There was a sunlit atrium with white marble floors. At the corners were large alabaster statues of the ancient gods of the island.
My room was spacious. It had a balcony overlooking water. I turned on the television as I was curious. All the channels broadcasted in Esperanto, the national language. It was a good thing that I learned some Esperanto before going there. It seemed an easy language to grasp. I had a phrasebook. I learned that "Sankta Lazaro" was some saint. "Kie estas la necesejo?" meant "Where is the washroom?" "Saluton!" meant "Hello!" I could learn more as I went along. I was exhausted the first night and I slept like a log.
I arrived just in time for Easter celebrations. Most Lazarans were Mahâyâna Christians, but there were also many Hare Krishnas and Buddhists. This time of the year, each Christian home would roast a whole lamb in the yard. The whole town would be filled with smoke from these roast pits. At night, there would be fireworks in the air. It was great picture-taking time.
The next day I toured the ancient ruins of Veluro. There I saw an ancient porcelain bathtub. Apparently, the ancient Lazarans were advanced. There were giant statues of men and women with the heads of animals like cats and elephants. The walls and columns were etched in a way that it looked like there were twisted vines on them. It was all organic-looking.
Sankta Lazaro had a long history. Recent history had seen waves of new immigrants come in such that they totally changed the demographics. Esperanto became the common language of this polyglot community by government decree in the 1930's.
Well, my vacation was going smoothly. The following days were relaxation. Sometimes I went to the beach. The water was still cold that time of the year, but it did not stop some of the Nordic tourists from wading in. Sometimes I walked through the old city, in the labyrinths of alleyways and archways where donkeys were still used as transport. It was very picturesque.
The food was marvellous. Roasted lamb was the specialty of that time of year. But there were pasta dishes galore. The Lazarans also loved a lot of seaweed in their food. Lazarans were tea drinkers. They had a very sweet mint tea served in tiny cups. Breakfast was yoghurt and honey.
A few nights I wandered into clubs. The music was modern and funky; the lyrics were in Esperanto. I met a few girls. But my Esperanto was not advanced enough for deeper conversation. Besides, the music was too loud. I was not the clubbing type at home, so why should I bother elsewhere? Well, it was fun...
There was ample time for souvenir-shopping. I bought three small alabaster statues of animal-headed deities. For my friends, I bought postcards and cheap banners with Esperanto proverbs on them.
It was a marvellous trip, but I had to go home. I would always remember it in my heart. Sankta Lazaro was a magical land...
(An imaginary, exotic, touristic trip to an Esperanto-speaking island.)
(Text is from 2003.)
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