We're not in Kansas anymore.

The night before I left was one of good food and weighing bags. As expected, one came in at a slight 73#; needless to say I seem to have been spending the last two weeks taking things out of my bags before I even arrived at my destination!
Four am brought the big day forth. Trip to the airport was uneventful; and with a little more rearranging and removal of the last not absolutely necessary items, my bags were whisked away to that nothingness that exists behind the ticket counter.
Of course, I had to put everything super bulky in my carry-on bags...that included my textbooks, a week's worth of clothes, and some yarn. Forty-five pounds doesn't seem like much, but when you are trying to lift it over your head (and your fellow plane mate's heads) into a tiny bin with no room to maneuver - it's enormous. I hit my fellow classmate (Matt) up for help boosting the bag over my head, what a first impression that made. The best part of the flight was when the rather overweight family (they required extra straps to buckle their belts) sitting across the isle from me sneered at me and haughtily joked that I should check that bag. Like my bag was the reason the plane would encounter problems (not their collective 900+ pounds).
There was a drop towards the end of the flight when my heart leaped into my throat, but we arrived in one piece. We were herded off the plane onto a rickety metal stairway that lead to the blacktop (didn't think of THAT when we decided my carry-ons should be the heavy stuff) and a huge wave of humidity just blanketed us!! Crazy bad, and I'm born/raised in Florida.
Matt and I looked around at this jungle of an island and thought "what have we gotten ourselves into?" They ushered us into the immigration lines, where a nice gentleman glanced at my paperwork and sent me on my way.
Matt and I made our way downstairs to the baggage claim where it appeared some luggage monster had regurgitated a gazillion bags that were all black. After gathering our collective 10 bags we flagged down a baggage guy who loaded all ten (not joking) onto a mere hand cart and guided us through customs. Outside our bags were 'delicately' dropped in a corner on the curb to await the baggage truck for transport to the dorms. And by transport, I mean being overloaded onto a tiny pick-up truck and tied down with ropes.

The question is: do people loose more bags due to the airlines or the post-flight transport?

Meanwhile Matt and I were introduced to about 10 people in 2 minutes, ending with our orientation leader Kelly. She's a real character, very sweet and funny. Good match with our "brother" group run by Matt, who is also sweet but a bit more taciturn.
Once all of our group (and Matt's) arrived, we were loaded onto what can only be described as a mini-bus named "The Olympian" - complete with Olympic logo on the back window. It seems the public taxis here are all mini-buses, and it's similar to owning a boat - all are named, and decorated appropriately for the name. Kelly says you can live on this island for years and every once in a while you'll see one you never saw before. And to top it all off - our driver is named Mr. Rogers. Who can't be instantly soothed when they are met at the airport by a Kittian version of one of your childhood memories?

The Olympian. In all it's glory.

As we are getting ready to leave the airport, one of the baggage handlers comes running towards the bus, sticks his head in and starts yelling for the person who had all of the boxes (one of the couples had shipped their stuff early in about 8 large boxes). The husband stands up and comes forward, asks if there was something wrong with their things. The baggage handler states very simply that they had not received their tip. He hits this guy up for $15, as he has to pay the other guy who helped as well. Our student pulls out a $20US, asking for change (second mistake, first one being letting the guy make the decision on the amount of tip). A Ross leader comes over and begins to berate the luggage guy for scamming the students; meanwhile the luggage guy grabs the money and takes off as fast as he can. What a trip! Good thing my mother always made a good example on how to travel in a foreign country!