A Single Journey

"I realized there was a lot I did not know about the world. I decided to educate myself."

Waves from the Caribbean crash along the coastal "Zona Viva' region in La Ceiba, Honduras. Photo by Luis Antonio Thompson.

I’m sitting in the food court of Ramón Villeda Morales International Airport in San Pedro Sula, Honduras. My first meal since arriving here about 2 hours ago? A spicy chicken sandwich value meal from Wendy’s, complete with fries and – in an ode to the culture and an attempt to be authentic – tamarind juice.

I’m enjoying the convenience of free WiFi, courtesy of one of the major cell phone carriers out here. In about 60 minutes, I’ll be on the Honduran equivalent of the Bolt Bus to the city of La Ceiba. From there, it’s onto the final destination to the state of Colón in a tiny town called Trovador. This is where my maternal family comes from. The town (and region) is a hybrid of the old, American Wild West and your stereotypical, made-for-TV third world country: set in a very remote and mountainous part of the country, rocky, unpaved roads are wide enough only to accommodate passing horses. The people of the town marvel at small taxis or other vehicles that are passing through en route to the next town. There is no “middle class” and people work hard to get the little that they have. It is an experience and setting with which I become more intrigued as I get older and more used to the conveniences of New York City.

I’ll be with my grandmother, who always shares stories of her life growing up in this place as well as her journey to the United States. Seeing where she came from (which is also where my mother came from) and experiencing those same roads that she walked make me nothing short of astonished at what she’s been able to achieve in her own life and provide for her family. Lounging here at the airport, with my MacBook while Google-Voicing my friends and family is probably the most obvious example of a life that’s far removed from those stories of a poor family set in an impoverished town. Yet, I am but one generation from those tales.

I picked up the latest Vanity Fair on my way here. Angelina Jolie, who’s on the cover, talks about her experiences traveling the world and how those directly influenced her latest project (and directorial debut). “I realized there was a lot I did not know about the world. I decided to educate myself,” she said. This sentiment reflects why I’m eager and anxious and excited to be here. As much as I’d love (and need) a vacation on an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean, there’s something more valuable to me when you’re able to learn more about this world. Thus, for the next two weeks, I’ll be pretty much talking to the friends and distant family members and neighbors and children-of-neighbors that my family is so fond of who still live in the town of Trovador today. There’s no better way, to me, than to spend the last days of Summer. That, plus climbing mango and orange trees, as well as waking up at dawn to the sounds of a rooster.

Have a safe and awesome Labor Day weekend.