How This Love Affair Came About

I thought that perhaps I should devote a post to how my love affair with the world and travel all got started. I've been writing of my adventures for two years now, but I have never really told you all how it began. So here is the 411, abbreviated.

For three consecutive spring breaks,  I went on a team to the Dominican Republic to work with Food for the Hungry, an organization devoted to ending physical and spiritual poverty around the world. Pretty cool organization, and for some reason lost to history, I jumped at the chance to go. I had not done a whole lot of traveling prior to that point, so I suppose it  was just that I was excited to get out and do something different.

Best. Trip. Ever.

Building the base of the latrine. That's me in red.

Yeah, I was building very unglamorous latrines,  it was hot as Hades, and I didn't understand much Spanish, but that is when I started to wake up to the fact that most of the world lives differently than me. I was pretty darn privileged.

It's also where I became consumed with learning Spanish. By the second or third trip, I realized that I was understanding a whole lot more between the beginning of the week until the end of the week, and assumed that if I had more time, I could be fluent. The seed was planted. I was going to learn Spanish no matter what it took.

So I moved back to West Virginia and in with.....my parents (gasp!) I was willing to do whatever it took to make this dream happen. But you should know this decision was not easy. It had been my goal since the 8th grade to break free of home, what I considered to be my oppressive parents, and hokey West Virginia.  I bolted at the earliest opportunity and flitted about Philadelphia, Atlanta and D.C doing respectable things like college and AmeriCorps.  I was pretty proud of my independence and now?  NOW?  I was willingly going back to it. 

But you know what? It really wasn't that bad. I worked two jobs, got back into playing volleyball, dated a guy with a serious alcohol problem (ummmm.........having to blow into a Breathalyzer to make the car start *should* have been a very clear red flag), and before you know it, I had enough money and was ready to jet down to Central America. Oh and my parents? It turns out they actually aren't oppressive at all. They are decent folks who just like to do a good job raising their kids.

Lago de Atitlan, Panajachel, Guatemala

Anyway, saved up my money, randomly (seriously, randomly) chose a Spanish school in Antigua, Guatemala, sent them a few emails, booked  a ticket, and two of my best friends and I showed up in Guatemala City one February morning praying and hoping someone would be there to get us.

They were. It was one of the best experiences of my life.

Cerro de la Cruz, Antigua Guatemala

We ended up traveling all over Central America, with only a few minor usual mishaps-got robbed, bribed by the police, got called a "stupid American bitch" and of course, got sick with various stomach ailments in which I was sure the end was nigh.

All in all, a very successful trip.

Asia called my name shortly after that. And the rest is history!

Copan Ruinas, Honduras

Just climbed Vulcan Pacaya