Traveling Amid the Pandemic: Am I Really Dreaming of More People?

 I dream of a dream, within a dream.

I always dreamt of having one of the world's top rated beaches to myself. Trunk Bay lies on a Caribbean island, and it’s something like out of a magazine -- come to find out, those pictures don’t lie. While I copped the most natural high I’ve ever had, it was quickly broken with the panic of snorkeling into a cloud of tiny clear jellyfish, with no one there to save me, had they been harmful.

An empty Trunk Bay from the road above. Rated one of the top ten best beaches in the world! St. John, U.S.V.I. (Photo by Dakota Gange).

My mother is in stage four of kidney failure, but you would never guess looking at her. She’s a powerhouse woman, a work-a-holic, and someone who deeply loves to travel. Amid the 2020 pandemic, and scared her life would be ending soon, she brought the family to the U.S. Virgin Islands; St. Thomas and St. John, last August.

As we flew over the Bahamas along the way, you could see the light turquoise Carribean Sea rings around the islands from hundreds of miles up in the air, and the rings only intensified as we approached our destination. 

We arrived just three days after another government official shut down; to-go services only, and strict afternoon beach closures on the weekends -- I dream of returning to the beach on a Sunday where my sister and I won’t be escorted out of the water by local police. 

Sisterly love ❤️ 

 Any tourists arriving just one day after us would be turned away from these U.S. territories - knowing we all stayed healthy on this trip, we were lucky. 

Our hotel was quaint and somewhat empty, but every room had an ocean view. And not just any ocean view, I mean an ocean view so close that as high tides came in, the waves lapped at the balcony just below ours. I wish to return without guilt of being there in the first place.

View from our balcony. St. Thomas.

Many lone-locals were much friendlier than I expected. With their thick, dark, and luscious dreadlocked hair, heavy broken-english based accents and maskless faces, they did not hesitate to strike up a conversation as one strolled along on the white sand beaches. Many even offered to share a doobie. I dream of returning to have a less than Covid fear stricken conversation with them, where we can share that doobie without hesitation.  

The beaches. Oh the beaches! I have never seen lands more vivacious than the islands. The sand is nothing short of glowing white, and the water so clear and such a perfect turquoise blue that even a nightly swim is inviting, without fear of the ocean creatures. As dream-esc as it was to have these places almost to ourselves, I dream of returning on a hot sunny Saturday, where I can watch the smiles of children as they play and laugh in the Caribbean waveless waters, and watch happy people as they walk hand in hand, or hunt for seashells. 

        As we drove around the islands in our bright blue tourist screaming Jeep, I yearned for the days where we were not the only ones. I wished for busy booths, fruit stands, and stores along the very old cobblestone side streets of Charlotte Amalie. 

             Snorkeling the empty beaches of St.Thomas and St.John. 

Streets are empty in the old town of Charlotte Amalie, St.Thomas. 

     

       The food was good, but I found myself wishing to return to open restaurants, where you could enjoy your meal at a table rather than in your car or on the (yes really as we came to find out) island mob-ran beach where they boldly broke the government closures, serving you beach-chair-side on the weekends. This was a fine experience, until the fear that set in when I was pad-locked into a bathroom, and then forcefully grabbed by the wrist and pulled behind the building where I was introduced to “The Boss, Mikey,” who sat among his beach chair throne. Luckily, that’s really all there is to this rather silly encounter, but I dream of returning to this gorgeous beach where tourists' eyes and ears are prevalent. 

FRESH Snapper from the island mob-ran beach.

        It’s easy to take for granted the people you pass along a hiking trail, ooo-ing and aweing over the sights you’re about to see. 

I yearn to return to this place when charter boats are available for some of the best exploration and snorkeling. 

As a large portion of the population becomes vaccinated, I am seeing the world around me become slightly more ‘normal’. Mask mandates are being loosened, and even at my own work in the restaurant industry, we aren’t requiring masks as long as you have proof of that magical little card.

It’s true that on Trunk Bay I felt like a million air who privately rented out one of the world's top 10 rated beaches, and that’s the dream, right?  

However, in our new Covid accepted state of the world, I dream of returning to these islands. I want to see beaches strung out with smiles, boats along the marina, happy hikers, and booths with fruit and shells sold by the locals. I miss the days of the music filled the streets, and can only imagine the further glow of the island amid happy times. Am I really dreaming of more people? 

Perhaps once abuzz with tourists, Black Beards old castle sits empty in Charlotte Amalie, St.Thomas. (Built in 1671!).

At A Glance:

Who: Feature Writing Student and Editor

Where: U.S. Virgin Islands - St.Thomas and St.John: Trunk Bay (Voted one of the top ten

beaches in the world) and various other beaches/places, such as the old town of Charlotte Amalie.

When: August 2020

Travel Rating: 5 Stars!

Chasing Happiness: Goodbye Salary, Hello Journalism.

“Happiness can’t be bought.” The saying echoes and bounces off the walls of life, circling social media and often received in the form of advice from friends and family. We tell ourselves this, and it’s supposed to be common knowledge, but then why do so many of us stay in a situation where we are unfulfilled?

For me, it was financial security that kept me from striving to achieve my dreams. Financial stability was such a force that drove me to comfortability and peace of mind. Knowing I could eat and pay the bills helped me sleep better at night. Being a restaurant manager is a vivacious career. It’s meticulous but with enough leniency to have a blast, all the while you’re constantly around people. It just wasn’t what I wanted to do.

It can be a tangled and confusing mess to be stuck between security and dreams. For those out there caught in the middle, perhaps it’ll bring you some comfort knowing I traded my comfortable decade-long salaried career for a chance chasing my dreams through education and an unstable paycheck.

Now I’ve arrived at the top of the mountain, and it’s time to jump off this cliff. I’m only 27, but those years have been filled with a chest full of treasured lessons, and a catch-up on bodily wear and tears as the aches begin, both physically and mentally. Although, I’m not jumping down into the abyss, but rather into the next valley, where I can see an even taller mountain. 

For ten years now I’ve been building my skills and career in the customer service industry, quickly leading to a comfortable fiscal situation. I wasn’t unhappy per se, and I had a great time, but it just wasn’t that exact puzzle piece I was looking for. And I knew it wasn’t; I still went to work every day and caught myself thinking, “Am I really going to do this for the rest of my life? I can’t do this for 80 percent of my life!” 

Very comfortable I was, but not without a price of unfulfillment. I had always wanted to go back to school, but it always turned into, “Okay, next fall you will.”  

Then the pandemic hit last March, and my life was forcefully shaken up. I was laid off from my restaurant management position, which was the push I needed to go back to school. So I went back, and immediately fell into a position of writing. In the blink of an eye I began taking journalism classes, and writing for the school newspaper. 

Journalism found me, I didn’t find journalism. I never knew how much I loved writing, and how complete and fulfilled it made me feel, and like I might even make a difference someday. Even if no one read my work, my words were out there in print, finally organized from the depths of my mind. When I write I can feel my whole heart just magically seeping through the tips of my fingers, and my soul dancing through my veins. 

After being laid off for several months, my work brought me back part-time. This was still enough for that financial stability, and I could go to school. Um, can you say win, win!?

Then last week I got a call from my boss. They were ready to bring me back full-time, but not without significantly impeding my school schedule. Basically, I was faced with the choice of my current career, or my education? I had 48 hours to decide, but I knew in a flutter of a heartbeat that I was never going back. 

We are meant to do so much more than just pay the bills. All too often I hear stories of the unhappy, oftentimes due to jobs we don’t love. But here I am; a student, soon to be a first-time mother, extremely fiscally uncomfortable, and I couldn’t be more content. It's become very apparent that my happiness is found chasing my dreams, and what comes with that is all worth it.