Travels

Returned from Paris on Tuesday and left for Puerto Rico on Friday afternoon for the Labor Day weekend. Unfortunately, it was bad timing, it was the day of Hurricane Enrico (I think that is the name) which even though had calmed down could be felt in full force. For a moment, I was wondering what the hell had made us (Eric and I) choose such a day to go on vacation without checking the weather. I wasn't sure we were going to make it to PR safely.

My frustrations began to build as the turbulence caused by the hurricane became consistent, a little kid kept screaming in the plane, the guy sitting ten seats up decided to play reggaeton at the highest volume level, the kid behind me kept asking his mum the same questions about why we had to sit and the mum kicking behind my chair. With all this turmoil we landed safely at PR and just my luck, my suitcase did not come with the flight and apparently, had not even left Newark airport.

PR was different, it was interesting to see that due to it being colonized by the Americans, their infrastructure was excellent. The island was no different from home country Ghana. They had the same beaches maybe greener water, very little to show and have a history of being colonized. Their advantage was the easy access they had to the American market and the excellent infrastructure. Trust me, if my country had access to America the same way as PR, we would be so much further ahead, and if not, every single person would learn English and leave the next day for mainland USA.

The beaches and the food were excellent and the attractions were not too bad. Old San Juan was beautiful and our trip to the Bacardi factory was enlightening. Talk about excellent marketing, the Bacardi family had the right people doing the right stuff.

Anyhow, on the day of our return to New York, was the day, the Miss World who happened to be Ms. Puerto Rico was arriving. Catch this, PR is part of the US, but they present a different person for the Ms. World. The streets were lined with people waiting and waving, at cars in wait of the woman who had made their island / "country" famous, by being the most beautiful woman in the world according to a couple of judges. Come to think of it, none of these judges, have ever chosen a black woman as Ms. World in the so XX years of the existence of the Pageant.

However, the point I am trying to make is that, it made me think of my own return home that I was planning, there was no doubt in my mind that I was not going to see the whole country on the streets because I was a nobody and had returned with nothing. But rather, what would my homecoming mean to my family and my friends and how was I going to fit in again.