My love for travel ignited when I was Young.
Growing up as a first generation daughter of Jamaican Parents, I have always been caught between two different cultures. Up until I was about eight I would go to Jamaica every summer to visit family. The many flights, different smells and sounds, and the comfort food I was used to always brought happiness. I never thought of it as a passion. Not like art, which I continued pursuing eventually majoring in it in college, but a curiosity. An electric shock of excitement when I would learn of a new culture, meet a person with a different accent, or travel to new places with my parents.
For a while traveling stopped.
My parents had an awful divorce so there wasn’t much desire nor money to go anywhere.
Trips with my family would eventually pick back up again around high school. My dad would pack my siblings and me, along with our stepmom, into her Expedition and his F-250. Then, we would book it to Louisiana. My father enjoys gambling so we were guaranteed a week-long trip full of shopping and good food.
Junior year of high school brought a trip to New York in the summer to visit my grandmother and aunt. I hadn’t been back since I was three so it was cool to get a tour around the city while my mom told me stories about my childhood.
The next year was a flight to Jamaica. I went back with my mom to attend her high school reunion. I loved this trip. Hearing stories about my mom and her sisters getting into trouble in school was hilarious and visiting our family home was heartwarming.
A Once in a lifetime experience?
My first road trip!
At 19, my sister and I went on a 14 hour drive to New York to visit her family.
We spent a whole week running around New York, shopping and eating. We were having fun being on our own and away from our parents. This wasn’t our first choice for a road trip. We wanted to do a 50 states trip, spending at least 3 months on the road. We made due with the time we were able to take off from work and enjoy ourselves.
It wasn’t all sunbeams and smiles. It was winter in New York. This southern raised girl finally felt what it was like to feel cold. I learned that the skyscrapers act as a wind tunnel. Causing the cold air to push further into you, until it touches your bones. At one point, we were forced to take shelter in a KFC. We took it as a chance to fill our bellies. The worst had to be when we ran a block in the freezing cold to the next subway station with about 10 other teens after a line had closed for construction.
Attending the Ball Drop for the New Year brightened my opinions about New York winters.
We were lucky enough to be grabbed by a few strangers we met and they dragged us with them to one of the emptier sections.
We stood to the side watching as delivery guys strolled around selling pizzas and as small pods of NYPD officers patrolled, working to keep everyone safe.
Smiling, as we observed people lying down and watching movies. Or forming a conga line and dancing to the music.
Again, we froze in the cold.
Eventually we needed a bathroom break but they weren’t letting the people back in who left. My sister could hold it no longer so we made a decision to leave. I wasn’t happy as I knew it would be hard to get back in, but we went anyway.
When we tried to get back, a police officer denied us re-entry. We took a walk away from him after my visible irritation was starting to make the situation worse.
But, my sister saved the day. She was always able to make herself cry and was able to come up with an excuse for us getting back to our “ family” to a different officer. He was really kind to let us back in and I was grateful for my sister’s acting skills. Allowing us the opportunity to ring in 2010 with our new friends and wish a great beginning to a new decade!
Even with all that fun I am not sure I would watch it drop in person again. The long hours of waiting and being packed with that large of crowd made this event one that I would be content with experiencing once.
Seeing the other side.
In 2012 and in 2014 I took a trip to Jamaica to see my father’s side of the family. My mother’s side mostly lives in the states so I was never really out of reach with them. But, my father’s side was still in Jamaica and those long years not visiting Jamaica created distance between us.
My father took us around to learn about Jamaica and meet our cousins.
One morning he scheduled an educational trip to Maroon Town. Fifteen of us packed into a small bus at 5am to journey to an independent city in the hills to hear about the Maroons who helped Jamaicans rebel against the British to eventually help end slavery and lead to Jamaica’s Independence. As I said, this cool little town (also cool in temperature in the mornings because of its altitude) is totally independent, it has its own government, laws, and schools. People who are not descendents of Maroons are not allowed to live there or participate in the secret parts of the ritualistic re-telling of the history.
My most recent trip to Jamaica, in 2014,I was finally able to meet my paternal grandmother. She was a strong willed woman and even though she was afflicted with what seemed to be Dementia, I could still see that strength in her. I was happy to have met her when I did because she would later pass away the next year after becoming hospitalized. The meeting was a max one hour, but will stick with me as I do not have tight bonds with my grandparents. I never met either of my grandfathers, so that thin thread of ancestry I was able to weave will stay with me.
My first International Solo Trip!
Not long after starting school I signed up for a study abroad trip to Ireland. Six weeks of Art and traveling to a country of lush green grass and fairy tales. A culture thousands of years old and filled with people exuding spirit and joy.
I became friends with an amazing group of Americans and Irish kids, which we now gather to meet up every few years.
My trip to Ireland would solidify my desire and excitement in traveling.
From then I began planning out trips using the hobbies I was interested in as fuel for my next destination. Art, Martial Arts, and any other blood pumping adventures would help me to find a community and build comfort in many new environments.