We have not posted a whole lot on our blog these past few months. We have been poorly behaved bloggers. Things in America have kept us busy and stressed. Politics and policy became more important than fun and cultural enrichment. Travel, for us, took a backseat.
Over the weekend I was at my wits end. All of the protesting, petitions, phone calls, took precedence over traveling and blogging. I looked at Kenin and said “Hey, we need to get the hell out of Dodge for a few days.” I wanted see something new, meet new people, taste new foods. I wanted to travel.
I opened up my laptop and we started looking for a quick getaway, maybe a cruise, a quick trip to the Caribbean, or a shot jaunt to a European destination. Then I froze. I thought about the current state of our country and the raids for rounding up immigrants. I thought about immigration officers in airports going through people’s phones and splitting up families for questioning. I thought about the citizens, with US Passports, that have been detained just because of their names or skin color.
Travel is supposed to be fun. It is supposed to be stress-relieving and rejuvenating. People go on vacation to get a break and they are supposed to come home feeling refreshed. I didn’t even buy a plane ticket and I was already thinking of the dread of coming home. Being a brown woman, even though I hold an American passport, I feared coming home…HOME!
I didn’t want to go on vacation, only to return and be held at the airport like a criminal.
I know this is a travel blog, but I’m not sure how or if I can continue writing about my travels. Kenin and I have already covered 49 of the 50 states. I want to go out into the world and see new things, but I am terrified of coming home. This is my home and now I am afraid to leave for fear of returning. It’s as if someone has placed guards in my house that won’t let me in until they can verify my identity. I bought the house. My photos are all over the walls. My fingerprints are on every surface. My hands planted the trees in my backyard. My friends ate at my dinner table and slept in my guest room. My heart and soul is in that house, but my guards, those that are there to protect me, won’t let me enter.