Travel, Travel Stories

Tanzania Diaries: Appreciate the Little Things

January 4, 2013

I’m starting to think I have a thing for African babies. Kinda like Angelina, Madonna, and all those women with so much disposable income they can’t just have a baby, they gotta buy one.

2 years ago on my first trip to Africa I met Baby Ghana Joy, and though he couldn’t speak yet, he somehow managed to sweet talk his way into my little soul forever. On our 2nd day here in Tanzania, I encountered another little one that touched me just as deeply. After our day at Tarangire National Park, we stayed near a village called Mto Wa Mbo, Swahili for Mosquito River. When our driver Robert explained that it’s literally near a mosquito infested river, I could help but wonder how (and why) the people in the village there could stand it. Occasionally during the summer I’ll get a lil badass mosquito in my Brooklyn apartment, that buzzes in my ear in my sleep just to let me know who’s boss. I don’t care if it’s 3 AM, the lights come on, I’m fully awake and it is WAR until I can catch and smash the dangerous invader to smitherines, protecting myself from…um…I mean not like West Nile or like Malaria or anything. But like, they itch and stuff.

So, here is this village of people from living in some of the worst conditions I’ve seen, literally surrounded by malaria-infested mosquitos, and as we drove by, I see a little girl around 2 years old sitting with her siblings near the road. Her hair is cut close like a little boy but I can tell she’s a girl because of her smile, which flashed across her face when she saw our jeep pass by. I waved back and locked eyes with her for maybe 2 seconds before she was out of sight.

She smiled. And waved. That’s it. But I was stuck for a good half hour on this little girl. Like, borderline tears. And it’s hard to explain why. Her clothes were tattered and she was sitting in the dirt, in an area prone to malaria. There were no toys in the front yard, or any handheld games to occupy the time of the little ones who gathered together like their own little families along the street. Yet, she looked truly happy. She probably likes waving at the jeeps because the people inside probably smile and wave back at her. It’s almost like talking to people from around the world without saying a word. Or maybe she doesn’t get much attention bc her parents are busy working all day.

Or maybe she’s just little girl who likes to wave at people. It could really be that simple because joy comes from the simplest things to babies and children. I wanted to get out and bring her toys and dolls and take her for ice cream and do all the fun things little kids should experience but seeing her smile was a reminder that we can all find happiness despite circumstance if we learn to appreciate the little things.

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Travel Stories

Morning in Amsterdam

January 2, 2013

Ok so can we talk for a minute about how I don’t know what day it is? Or what time it is in Brooklyn, or why my entire biological clock is totally screwed right now. We flew ahead of time in some sort of Back to the Future time warp and I think it’s 1997 again but whatever.

I guess I should start with the obvious, answering the question many have asked me leading up to this trip- what made you go to Tanzania? As much as I would love to take the credit for finding such a cool destination, it was actually the idea of my friend Gabriel who wanted to do something different for New Years. I wasn’t convinced at first – I mean like, who hangs out in Tanzania and what’s so great and where is it anyway? I didn’t know anyone who had been, but after doing a little digging and reaching out to the Nomadness Tribe Family, I learned so many wonderful things about the country (and saw some pretty dope pictures of beaches in Zanzibar) and was sold!

So fast forward to Thursday morning. I think. We barely escaped some sort of post-holiday snow foolishness (shout out to sweet baby Jesus ’cause if snow flurries messed up my flight outta JFK, KLM wasn’t ready for the hot fool I was gonna act up in Terminal 4)

This morning we had breakfast in Amsterdam just to be able to say we had breakfast in Amsterdam (how cool does that sound?) Much of the fare was similar to the US, but the traditional Dutch pancakes were interesting. You could pick from a long list of toppings that seemed more like a pizza menu (chicken, bacon, mushrooms ect.) but we tried the mixed fruit to keep it simple. Pretty good!

Amsterdam is surprisingly tame in the morning. No surprisingly flexible young ladies swinging from the street lights or marijuana bonfires in the middle of the street. Just folks headed to work, many on bikes, during what seemed like an ordinary morning rush hour (without the rush. No mowing folks over at 60 mph to catch the bus like NY). The city reminded me a lot of New Orleans, with cobble stoned streets and canals weaved between narrow alley ways.

Even at 8 AM there was a coffee shop open. This shop had all kinds of…coffee. With a very organized menu that reminded me of the McDonalds dollar menu. Young men speaking several different languages smoked cigars back in the smoking area while I stood near the entrance waiting for NYPD to roll up and cart me off to jail for being in there, and then I’d have to call my Mom to bail me out and she’d ask me why I got arrested for being in a coffee shop and thrn I’d have to explain coffee in Amsterdam and then the line would go dead and then the NYPD would laugh at me and then and then….*breaks out in cold sweat and exits coffee shop*

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Before heading back to the airport, we enjoyed a quiet breakfast, walked the cobble stoned streets peering into some “interesting businesses” along the empty streets, and imagined that once the sun set there’s an entirely different city that comes to life.

After an 8 hour plane ride, an hour in customs, and 20 minutes wandering between Kilimanjaro and Arusha, we finally came to our first stop- Arumeru Lodge! Which was the size of 3 of my apartments! Photos coming soon! For now, time to rest up for our first day of Safari tomorrow 🙂

Brooklyn, Giving Back

The Passport Party Project comes to Brooklyn

August 23, 2012

It was a beautiful summer morning in Brooklyn, but with the butterflies of excitement fluttering around in my stomach you would have thought it was Christmas! “It’s finally here!” I thought to myself as I hopped out of bed and prepared for the first Passport Party in New York City! I first heard about the Passport Party Project after meeting Tracey Friley at Blogging While Brown in July of last year, and was inspired by her vision for the program, which aims to give 100 young girls around the country their very first passport.

The program targets girls from diverse backgrounds, which struck a personal chord with me because I have been privileged to travel the world from an early age, and supported by a family who has pushed me to explore this great Earth for my entire life. However, this is often not the case since traveling requires a financial commitment many parents cannot handle and a shiny new passport is often shuffled to the bottom of the priority list for our young girls. Determined to support this amazing cause,  I signed up immediately to help host the NY party, and in December, held The Jetsetters Holiday Fiesta to raise awareness about the program and raise money for programs that support travel for young people.

So once the program finally arrived this month in Brooklyn on its national tour, I was beyond geeked about meeting the girls! Tracey encouraged me and the other bloggers (Teri of Travelista TV, Ann of Water Wine Travel, and Terri of Try Anything Once) to bring items for show and tell, so needless to say I wanted to show them EVERYTHING!! I rushed around my apartment in a frenzy, packing everything i could think of – My headpiece from Trinidad Carnival, pink sand from Barbados, my photo album from a medical missionary trip to Jamaica, money from Ghana..the list goes on. I wanted to inspire the girls with all that I had seen in faraway places, in hopes that they would one day collect their own stamps and memories with their new passports.

My vision board 🙂

However, this isn’t exactly how things turned out at the party. Quite the opposite, in fact. Turns out, the girls were the ones doing most of the inspiring. They arrived at the party with bright eyes and innocent smiles, a little shy, yet eager to talk about the countries they wanted to explore. They translated their travel dreams into vision boards shaped like suitcases with handles and round corners (soooo cute!!) and voted on the boards that were the most creative. From Hawaii to India to Paris, the places they wanted to visit were spread across the globe, and the possibilities for these adventures were endless. Each of them received a passport photo on the spot, and will receive a shiny new passport, courtesy of Expedia and the Passport Party Project upon submission of the proper paperwork to their local offices.

During one of the many games we played with the girls, Tracey asked them to name different modes of travel outside airplanes. Most responses included the expected – trains, cars, boats and the like. However, one answer stuck out to me that I’ll never forget – a jet pack.

*needle scratch rewind* Er, what? A Jet Pack? I looked over at the girl who answered so matter of factly, then waited for Tracey to explain that such a method of travel isn’t real life. However, when she embraced it at the conclusion of the discussion as a “viable” mode of transportation, I realized that the best thing you can do with our young people is to allow their dreams to travel as far as their imaginations will take them. They should feel they can experience anything, from a bumpy camel ride across the Sahara desert, to an adrenaline inducing rush down the Autobahn in Germany. And if their dream trip involves a jet-pack, they’ll still need a passport because who knows where they’ll land when they come down!

I left the New York Passport Party refreshed and rewarded. The girls may have enjoyed my Jamaica photo album, and probably got a kick out of me putting on my carnival head piece, but I was the one who left itching to dream bigger and expand the possibilities of where travel can take me. More of us adults need to have a Jet Pack mentality, and allow our imaginations  to venture beyond the traditional boundaries of travel.

When NASA comes out with the first Jet Pack for travelers, I’ll be in line right behind the young girl I sat next to at the Passport Party, leaning on my walker and being rowdy with all my geriatric friends in line with us. I plan to take out my dusty old “smart phone”, snap a picture of us grey haired beauties, and text it to Tracey Friley with the caption “Keep Inspiring us Young Girls”

To find out where the Passport Party Project is headed next, please visit PassportPartyProject.org

Travel

When Friends Become Family

July 21, 2012

Last week my sister got married. My Dad didn’t make it, and neither did any of my aunts or uncles, but that probably would have been awkward because we don’t share the same parents, aunts or uncles. Now before you go calling my Mom telling her about my Dad’s secret child or trying to figure out the biological feasibility of the aforementioned situation, I’ll say that this type of sisterhood is the one I wrote about exactly one year ago. The type of sisterhood that comes with life, not biology, and with a kinship equally as precious.

You’ve virtually met my real sister, Kelley, and my sorority sisters from FSU, but I have a whole ‘nother extra rowdy set of sisters and brothers I met about 8 years ago when I first moved to Brooklyn. They all showed up at my door one night when I said I’d have food and liquor for a game night. (You know how we do. Once the word gets out that Cousin Pookie ‘nem are having a cookout all kinds of family comes out of the woodworks). I had just moved into a renovated industrial building in Crown Heights, and not long after moving in I invited all the new brown faces I had met in the building over for a little Taboo and dranks (with an “a” cause that’s how my family rolls). 2 guys from FAMU had just moved in below my roommate and I, so I invited them, along with a girl I used to wait tables with at Glady’s Night’s Chicken & Waffles in Atlanta, 2 guys who had moved in from North Carolina, and a few other new faces in the building. My friend from Atlanta brought her girlfriends from Clark Atlanta, the guys from FAM invited a few homeboys and a few cocktails later we were all in my living room laughing, arguing and screaming at the top of our lungs over an innocent Taboo game like we had all known each other since childhood.

 

Over the course of the next 5 years, our building (affectionately known as “the dorm”) became our headquarters where the ups and downs of life molded us from young friends to close family. We had a joint housewarming with the guys downstairs that probably disrupted 2 floors worth of residents, and the next year threw a party on the roof of our building that disrupted the entire block (best birthday ever!) When I was sitting in the apartment downstairs and found out my sorority sister had died suddenly we prayed and cried together in a moment I’ll never forget for the rest of my life, and 2 months later when the first Black president was inaugurated, we were jumping and screaming in that same apartment, crying tears of joy, and yelling “O-BA-MA!” out of the window in a chant with the rest of the neighborhood.

Our lives mirrored the show “Friends”, except we’re all Black, have much smaller apartments and can’t leave our doors unlocked (#justsaying, we live in Brooklyn) And our show wouldn’t be complete without a Monica and Chandler story. Chandler was one of the guys in the apartment below me, and Monica was my friend from Atlanta. While I was pretty oblivious to the time period when Chandler started to creep up on Monica, several of my other dorm buddies saw their romance develop over the course of the last few years. Monica tried to front for a while like the two of them were just friends like the rest of us, but Chandler had other plans and eventually their mutual attraction could no longer be denied.

While the “Friends” of the Crown Heights dorm have all parted ways geographically, we have moved from friends to family, so when the maid of honor at Monica and Chandler’s wedding last weekend said that the bride was her sister, it was a sweet reminder that that the 8 friends who flew from Brooklyn to Detroit for the wedding weren’t just friends anymore. Friends are people you go to brunch with on weekends and are always around to celebrate joyous occasions. Family is there when there is no joy to be celebrated. Friends might help you move into a new apartment, but family will let you sleep in theirs until you get back on your feet.

Friends show up at your wedding, but your family is the machine behind it, taking care of all of the inevitable mini-tragedies that come with the territory. Last weekend people’s flights were diverted, members of the bridal party went to the emergency room, the bridesmaids didn’t sleep all night preparing for the reception, the bride almost passed out from the 178 degree heat in the church, and there was a Jerry springer moment at the reception. And if we could do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing because when life is less than perfect you realize who your real friends and family are. Not one of us skipped a beat through all of the mishaps or fell on our knees in a tragic wail tombout “What is we gon’ do??” as a result of these inevitable Murphy’s Law Mishaps of a wedding weekend because our mission was to make sure that the bride and groom enjoyed one of the most important days of their lives together. Looks like they did 🙂

Last weekend I sat with my family and watched my sister and brother get married. I’ve never seen my brother cry but as my sister walked down the aisle, he broke down in tears, overwhelmed at the culmination of their Pursuit of Happyness. At their reception, in one of the best toasts I’ve ever heard from a groom, he talked about their legacy together which has me all excited about the Little Holnesses that will be at the Crown Heights Dorm Family Reunion 5 years from now. Yeah, I kinda just made that up, but it needs to happen – hopefully somewhere that requires a passport and sunscreen. And I’ll probably be the one planning it but I’m happy to do so because it’s what I do and what I love. And when you bring great people together, great things happen.

Congratulations, KenNath and Courtney! See you at the family reunion!

Interviews

Interview: An Anniversary Getaway in the South of France

April 15, 2012

First of all, congratulations on your first year of marriage! It feels like you guys got married last week. I remember your honeymoon in Curacao was a surprise destination courtesy of the groom. Were you both heavily involved in planning this trip or did Edjah take the lead again?

EDJAH: It was kind of a call and response thing. I did most of the planning with directed feedback from Kelley. We wanted to do something different from our honeymoon, but neither of us really likes the cold, so we still needed a fairly warm area.  I had never really been to Europe before, so when Kelley seemed open to the idea, I got excited and started throwing ideas out there. Somewhere along the line, the trip started to take shape.

KELLEY:  He’s being modest.  He did nearly ALL of the planning because I was swamped at work (and I’m a professional procrastinator). Edjah knows I’m fairly picky when it comes to hotels, so I had a lot more input when it came to picking those.

Outside of Jayonce, do you know of other couples who have vacationed in the South of France? Were their stories/photos motivation for you to go there or was it already on your travel list?

EDJAH: Speaking for myself, I can say there is a not-so-subtle influence when you’re continuously being told that certain experiences are the best most exclusive things in the world. I can say with all honesty that the first bottle of Belvedere I bought had nothing to do with the smoothness of the Vodka and everything to do with Jay-Z lyrics.  So when the stars aligned showing that a trip to the “South of France” was a possibility, it did hold a certain allure.

KELLEY:  Yeah, we can’t quite do it big like Bey and J yet…YET.  🙂  But we knew we wanted to go to St. Tropez and Monaco.  I’ll admit it was part of the rap song effect. One of the things that was interesting to me though was that while the places are beautiful, some of them aren’t all that different from other places we’ve been…it’s just that someone mentioned it in a song, so now it has this air of mystery.

As newlyweds with wedding bills and new expenses of cohabitation, how did you budget to afford this trip? Or did you throw it all on the credit card like I do and worry about it later?

EDJAH: A little from column A, a little from column B.  It was expensive, but we picked what we thought was a reasonable number, and more or less, we stuck to it (which is pretty rare for us).  We watched flights for weeks until they seemed reasonable, and made a few cost-saving moves. For example, we rented a cheap compact car to drive up and down the coast (though that ended up more expensive than we expected due to tolls that would make the NJ turnpike blush).  We also stayed in a bed and breakfast for two nights and although we visited Monte Carlo, we stayed in a small hotel in neighboring Nice.

KELLEY: Um, I thought we just put it all on the credit card?  Honestly though, I’m not usually the rational one when it comes to making “cost saving” decisions. I was a bit concerned the “cheaper rental car company” wouldn’t really exist.  I’d never heard of it so I had no idea if we’d arrive in some country where we don’t speak the language and the car would have no doors. BUT I trusted my husband, and it all worked out just fine. 🙂  We also decided to go more budget with our hotel in Nice, and it turned out to be my favorite hotel of the trip – a really cute, very French boutique hotel. So, it pays to be adventurous!

Somewhere on the Highway in France. We think.

Describe your itinerary. What cities did you visit and how long did you spend in each location?

EDJAH: This is going to sound both crazier and less crazy than it was: We flew into Barcelona, Saturday morning, then grabbed our rental car and headed East with no GPS – just a few good old-fashioned maps.  About seven hours later we arrived in Nice, around 7 that evening.  We stayed in Nice (including an evening trip to Hotel Paris in Monte Carlo) until Tuesday morning.  We then drove along the coast for a really quick photo-op at the pier in St Tropez before driving to Marseille.  There, we hopped a short domestic flight to Bordeaux (which was surprisingly cheap).  We visited vineyards in St. Emillion the next day, went to dinner and left Bordeaux in the morning, flying back to Marseille on Thursday.  We then finished retracing our route back to Barcelona, along the coast (really a beautiful drive), dropped off our rental car at the airport and spent the next three nights in Barcelona, leaving Europe Sunday morning.

KELLEY:  It was a bit crazy.  First of all, we had one road map I picked up at Barnes and Noble before we left thinking “this might come in handy” and the little map they give you at the rental car place that tells you how to get out of the city.  Second, we set out on the road with no Euros. We tried to find an ATM before leaving the city (and witnessed a man get flipped off his scooter in a bad car accident in the process!), but the ATM didn’t take American debit cards.  Then we ran into tolls that didn’t take American credit cards, so we ended up trying to pay in American dollars all while cars backed up behind us and started honking so loud that the attendant had to come over to our booth and try to get us stupid Americans to understand what she was saying. Yeah, we were those people.

I know for a fact Kelley is a hotel snob (as am I, it runs in the family.) How did you select your accommodations? Did they meet your expectations based on online reviews?

EDJAH: Tripadvisor, Tripadvisor, Tripadvisor.  Not sure if they’re paying you, but even if they’re not, we owe them [Editor’s Note: They aren’t. But if they’d like to, please holla at a starving artist. Thanks.].  They haven’t led us astray yet.  In fact, I felt a little lost going by verbal recommendations when we were out on foot, because I couldn’t quickly check Tripadvisor on my phone for ratings.  We essentially decided our budget for each leg of the trip and picked the highest ranked hotel that fit our budget.

KELLEY: Yeah, I mentioned this a bit before, but Tripadvisor was key in our selections.  I compared all of the pictures, and everywhere we stayed was awesome.  In Bordeaux, we stayed at the #1 ranked bed and breakfast.  The couple that runs it is sooo nice, and Edjah chatted with them a bit in French. I just smiled and nodded when it seemed appropriate.  The wife, Danielle, even tried to help us look up Edjah’s relatives to see if they’re still in the Bordeaux area!  And her breakfasts were amazing…the best croissants we had the whole trip.

When you think of anniversary trips you often think of Caribbean islands that cater heavily to couples. How is the romance factor in Spain and France?

EDJAH: The romance is definitely there, but you have to work a little.  We had to look for reviews and hit the spots that had the romance instead of having the romance handed to us on a platter, if that makes sense.  The views along the coast were amazing, strolling along the Promenade Anglais, along the beach, was relaxing, the drives back and forth along the coast were truly majestic, and there were countless cozy hotels and cafes to enjoy.  And the widespread availability of wine (at lunch, at dinner, at cafes, in your room with potato chips) didn’t hurt.

KELLEY: Yeah, I agree.  Although, I’ll say there’s just something about being in France that’s romantic itself.  We had a lot of nice romantic walks and shared many, many, many bottles of wine.

Keyword = wine

Hablan Espanol? Parlez vous Francais? Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth? If not, how did you manage?

EDJAH: I took French in high school and one quarter in college, and we used to take trips into Cote D’Ivoire when I was younger, so I had a little bit of rusty French that got better as the trip went on.  That said, it was sometimes hard to practice, as the helpful and mostly friendly locals would often just start replying in English after I had thoroughly butchered their native tongue.  My proudest moment was getting us gas at a closed gas station, that only took (non-American) credit cards, in middle-of-nowhere France, by offering Euros to a motorist who only spoke French.

KELLEY: Edjah’s French is awesome!  Again, he’s being modest.  Refer to my statement above about me smiling and nodding.  The situation (and that’s really what it was…a situation) at the gas station was ridiculous.  We were on our way back to Barcelona, literally in danger of running out of gas, and the one gas station open does not take American credit cards.  By this time, we had Euros, but the cash pay attendant station just so happened to be closed for the next 3 hours. Edjah managed to convince the nice gentleman that we weren’t trying to rob him, just wanted him to pump us some gas and we’d give him the cash.  Now, I was supposed to be responsible for the Spanish once we got to Barcelona. FAIL.  I took one quarter of Spanish in college.  I know how to ask for the bathroom, the check, and how much it costs.  Aside from that, it’s not really Spanish they’re speaking in Barcelona – I think it’s a mixture of Spanish and Catalan. Bottom line is, I didn’t understand the words coming out of their mouths. Most places spoke English, but a few interactions involved charades.

I’ve heard the food in France is bland *tear* Please tell me this isn’t the case. Tell me you dined on melt-in-your-mouth crepes and the best french fries ever in life. Or something else that’s actually French.

EDJAH: I don’t know where you heard this, but I might know where it came from.  We had the worst meal of our trip on our first night, and I’m actually a little ashamed of it.  We left our hotel, with no Tripadvisor and even left our Lonely Planet guide in the room, just heading in the direction of food.  We quickly came across many restaurants with identical brightly advertised “authentic” French dishes, including steak and fries and mussels and fries (seriously).  The deals looked great, and they were busy, so we figured – why not?  We should have just kept on walking.  Those tourist trap restaurants were the blandest food we had the whole trip.  The steak hadn’t seen a grain of salt or a flake of pepper, and the mussels were underwhelming at best.  Now, when we went to the restaurants the locals went to… Crepes and Ice Cream, steak covered in gorgonzola sauce, savory roasted root vegetables, croque monsieurs, rich cheeses and wine, roasted lamb for lunch, foie gras, etc.  And when you add our anniversary night dinner at the Grill Room at Hotel de Paris… the first Michelin starred restaurant I’d ever been to… mushroom risotto, lamb chops, chocolate souffle, cheesy polenta…

[Licks lips]

KELLEY:  Yeah, they got us on the first night.  After that, we stuck to tripadvisor and went off the beaten path.  Lots of cheeses, gorgonzola gnocci, breads, just everything to make you fat and happy.

 

What was your “I Love My Life” moment on your trip? What did you experience that would make you recommend this destination to another couple?

EDJAH: For me, it was probably the first night when we drove into Nice and we were there – the beach, the restaurants, the wine, Monte Carlo only 20 minutes away.  It seemed like anything was possible, and so much of the world was right at our fingertips.

KELLEY: Wow, I don’t know that I can just pick one.  We had so many moments like that.  As I said, I LOVED our first hotel, so opening the doors and stepping out onto the little Juliette balcony was pretty amazing.  Our anniversary dinner was pretty spectacular as well.  We definitely splurged, but it was fun to people watch and wonder what the other people do for a living that they just happened to be there on a random night.

Would you recommend this trip for another couple’s honeymoon or anniversary? If so, any advice for planning? Anything you would have done differently?

EDJAH:  After saying all this, my advice for the overadventurous husband is to listen to what your wife isn’t saying.  There was a point in the middle of the trip that I was almost manic with all of the opportunities around us, and I wanted to make sure we checked all the boxes, tasted all the wine, saw all the restaurants, and I got so caught up that I was in danger of missing the time with my wife. Luckily, our last three days in Barcelona gave us another opportunity to sit down, relax, take a spa/sauna day at our hotel and just be together in a great city, rather than letting the city dictate our vacation.  If I was doing it over again, I would have put more downtime into the beginning of the trip as well, maybe left Bordeaux for another trip.

KELLEY: Yeah, I got a bit overwhelmed in the middle of the trip.  Edjah had put so much work into the planning, and we were seeing amazing places, but we were definitely running ourselves ragged at one point.  He was awesome though and made sure that I knew we didn’t have to do every single thing Barcelona had to offer.  We still saw some of the great sights – the Park Guell and La Sagrada Familia church, and of course some amazing restaurants – but we spent an entire day just relaxing at the spa, and it was wonderful to reconnect and reflect on the year.  I’d definitely recommend it – just limit yourself to one or two cities.  It’s hard when there’s so much so close, but you have to draw the line somewhere.

Thanks so much guys! Hopefully your experience has helped another young couple add the South of France to their bucket list. Best wishes to both of you wherever life takes you next! Happy Anniversary!

 

Travel Stories

How a Stranger Saved My Blog

March 13, 2012

This year for Maracas Bay Wednesday we were ready. Our driver (affectionately known as “Cousin Lew”) picked us up early enough for us to beat traffic headed out to the popular post-carnival hangout, and we made a stop at the liquor store to make sure we didn’t have to bum drinks off of young, first-time carnival boys on the beach.

We knew to get in line at the infamous Richards Bake and Shark spot as soon as we got there to beat the crowd, and were able to set up a nice spot on the beach to relax and nurse our carnival wounds (like not even figuratively, I have war scars on my back from the road and some of my bandit friends came home in bandages! #collisionwiner) However, we were carnival vets now, and ready for the last lime of Carnival 2012.

What I was not ready for, however, was what transpired shortly after we got settled. My friend Patrice came over to me and said that his friend Janelle was a fan of my blog and wanted to meet me.

*record needle screeches to a halt and stops all audio in this fairy tale movie*

Wait, what? Stop tryna make me feel all warm and fuzzy, Patrice. We brought rum to handle all of that. But when he said “Let me go get her and bring her over,” I realized he wasn’t joking.

He comes back with this fabulously stylish girl with a beautiful smile on her face. I excitedly smiled back and shook her hand, introducing myself like “Hi, I’m Tracey!’ She looked at me like “Of course you are” (duh Tracey she knows who you are, calm down and stop being a geek) She went on to tell me about how much she enjoys my stories and to be honest I can’t recall everything she said because think I zoned out for a minute or 2 simply because  I couldn’t believe my ears. Like, for real? I’m halfway across the globe on an island somewhere near Venezuela on a beach with a bunch of strangers, and there’s a girl here that reads my blog? It was a surreal moment I’ll never forget.

I tried to conceal my awe at this revelation and went on to tell her why I began writing. It originally was to record my memories. When I traveled to Ghana last year with my family, there were so many experiences that touched and I wanted to remember them, and not come back to the US with some “Africa was nice” sort of story. Even a year later with hundreds of fans, followers, and other terms to validate social media statistics, I don’t really grasp how my writing touches people until they tell me. I try to tell a good story, then put it out there for the interwebs to judge. Unless you stalk your hits, comments, and Facebook “likes” (which I don’t) you usually have no idea who is really reading your posts. Until someone like Janelle comes out of nowhere and rocks your literary world by renewing your passion for sharing life through words.

So here are my words for Janelle:

Dear Janelle,

I just wanted to extend my gratitude not just for reading my stories but being humble enough to share with me how much you enjoy them. That’s huge. Esp for “us folk” (you know how we do sometimes on some “oh she ain’t all that I’m not tryna blow her up her shirt is wrinkled anyway” hateration type foolishness.) You didn’t say much, but the few words of gratitude you shared with me have inspired me to keep writing. Because quiet as it’s kept, I had considered putting my blog on hiatus or shutting it down indefinitely this year. *Gasp* I know, crazy right? But with my new job and a renewed passion to really do the damn thing in my career, I was afraid travel blogging would be a casualty of my ambition.

However, you reminded me why I write. It’s not just to remember what happens as I skip happily across this global playground called Earth. It’s to inspire others to do the same for themselves. You don’t need this advice as much cause CLEARLY you were right there with me at Trinidad Epic Best Trip To Take At Least Once in Life Carnival. However, there are a lot of people who need reminding that while you should definitely work hard and be responsible members of society (one day I’ll learn how to be one), you should never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life. Thanks for being my inspiration to keep sharing in 2012. It means more to me than I can put into words. So please accept these two in lieu of something more elaborate: Thank you.

Tracey