Nuggets of Wisdom
My family and I often take vacations during the summer for relaxation, or to visit family, etcetera. On one such vacation, I learned a valuable lesson. Parents were created to teach their children little nuggets of common sense, but it is up to the children to listen.
We were visiting the Central American country of Honduras. It was a bright, sunny, and hot summer day. Taking a break from sight seeing, and the heat, we took refuge in a tropical style restaurant for lunch. It was a two-story restaurant over the ocean. Along the walls, there were beautiful green foliage that plump, colorful flowers sprung from. Also, throughout the restaurant were wooden poles, painted blue, that hammocks were hung on.
The waiter escorted my family and I to our table on the second floor. My parents sat at the table, but I chose a nearby hammock. The hammock was next to the open side of the restaurant. As I lay there, I began to study the ocean. I looked down and watched as the waves rippled, broke, and crashed to the shore. A salt-water smell permeated through the restaurant. A nearby fan oscillated back and forth, blowing a refreshing breeze across my face. All these elements caused me to relax, and slowly I began to sway in the hammock.
Soon after I got in that comfortable position, the waiter delivered the meal. My parents had ordered fish, and had begun nibbling. Since I was not hungry, I only ordered a drink, which I took back to the hammock to sip on. I began to sway, more vigorously than before, and I closed my eyes to enjoy the sounds. My father looked up from his meal and watched as I swung back and forth. He raised an eyebrow, and with a glint of humorous, wisdom in his eyes my father said, “David, that hammock is loose. Rock too hard, and you will go flying.” Of course, I paid him no attention. I was thirteen years old, and thirteen year olds know everything.
Acting as a typical teenager, I began to swing once more despite my father’s warning. My head was in the clouds, as I watched the waves, and the birds. How could something go wrong when everything was so perfect? I did not notice the creaking noise the rope made as its knot came lose. Nor did I realize what was happening when my drink hit the floor causing the glass to break with a deafening sound.
As far back as Rigoberta Manchu can remember, her life has been divided between the highlands of Guatemala and the low country plantations called the fincas. Routinely, Rigoberta and her family spent eight months working here under extremely poor conditions, for rich Guatemalans of Spanish descent. Starvation malnutrition and child death were common occurrence here; rape and murder were not unfamiliar too. Rigoberta and her family worked just as hard when they resided in their own village for a few months every year. However, when residing here, Rigoberta’s life was centered on the rituals and traditions of her community, many of which gave thanks to the natural world. When working in the fincas, she and her people struggled to survive, living at the mercy of wealthy landowners in an overcrowded, miserable environment. By the time Rigoberta was eight years old she was hard working and ...
First, Cancun has gorgeous hotels. The architecture of one representative hotel is fabulous. Walking into the entrance of the hotel is like walking through a breezeway because there are no doors. Upon entering, the visitor is mesmerized by the colossal tropical floral arrangement that’s so stunning and full of vibrant color that her mouth drops in awe. Soon, she realizes, after the initial shock, that she is walking on marble floors that look like mirrors reflecting rays of dancing light. Indoor waterfalls accompanied with lavish foliage engulf her; every sense is stimulated. Happily greeted and escorted to her hotel room, she is delighted to see that the hotel’s beauty continues throughout every part of it. Posh describes the room exactly. The bathroom floors, counters, and the shower walls are polished stone, native to Mexico. Surprised, she looks over the balcony to see the S-shaped pool with a floating bar and the bar’s roof covered in bamboo. Walking through the hotel lobby, through the fresh gardens, through the pathway to the pool are picture-perfect peacocks flaunting their beauty, and, indeed, they are very beautiful. Every minute detail of the Grand Hotel is designed to give her an unf...
When the day came to leave I was woken at the crack of dawn. I was keen to get to Blackpool as swiftly as possible, not only for the football that was ahead of us but also for the famous Pleasure Beach. The coach picked us up at around 8 am and in we crammed into an already full coach. The journey down was full of laughter and friendly joking from the parents. That day, it was particularly hot and inside the coach a number of people were becoming uncomfortable. I was unaffected by the warmth inside the coach, with my earphones in I relaxed and paid more attention to the vast countryside we were passing through. The vivid scenery blew me away, with colossal hills to calm rivers that we met on the journey.
A kid who never had a bad experience with heights before goes cliff jumping for the first time with friends. He is excited and eager at first, but when he looks ove...
Cilantro Tamales isn’t a typical Mexican restaurant. Upon entering you are immediately greeted with warm smiles, and are led to a bamboo chaired table with all sorts of hot sauces and other sizzling toppings to greet you. The air is filled with spices. The cinnamon and jalapeño aromas mingle and make the mood rich. Every dish on the menu seems delicious and it is always difficult to decide what to order. I always think that any dish which I don’t try gives me the excuse to come back again. Everyone who eats at Cilantro Tamales gets to have an unlimited amount of their fresh, homemade salsa with warm, salty tortilla chips. The thick chunks of tomatoes and onions with hot peppers and cilantro make a perfect combination for anyone’s taste buds. The waiters and waitresses carry immense trays burdened by the weight of great tasting meals, and each dish has enough on it to make mountains jealous. The delicious food is not the only reason Cilantro Tamales stands out. The restaurant itself is rich with culture and flavor. All the walls are a shade of bright yellow or sun burnt orange and red, which add to the Mexican feel. On the walls are historical black and white pictures of Mexico and its people which act as cultural memories of times past. The Latin and Mexican dance music can always be heard in the restaurant. I sometimes can’t help but move to its invigorating rhythm. An interesting facet to the restaurant is the hand crafted pottery.
Driving through the streets of Puerto Rico, we saw buildings and shops bursting with colors. Music flowed out of shops and made my ears tingle with the words in the songs, words I could not understand but yearned to. Continuing our drive I looked out into the distance and saw nothing but towering mountains that seemed to be covered with nothing but thick dense trees. They overlooked the houses and building below and took my breath away, castings shadows onto the small village below them. The forests loomed over everything almost intimidating but gentle as it held nothing but wildlife and freedom.
It took little time to go there (the nearest beach is just in front of the hotel). We then ran to the beach passing through all the people that was already there. As we were getting closer to a vacant tend, we could smell the characteristic essence of beach (which is mainly because of the salty water). We contemplated the beautiful picture of the boats and windsurfers, with a big blue ocean in the background. Then we started eating some potatoes we had bought at the minimarket, which was located next to our hotel. We had also bought some sodas, which we drunk while we feed the seagulls near to us. After a long day having fun at the beach, we observed the beautiful sunset at 6pm. And finally, decided to come back to our
I was left stranded in the midst of the midnight blue section of the ocean with only a life jacket and no reliable vision. My face burned from sitting under the scorching sun and partly of my embarrassment, so I ducked underneath the brackish waters. I peeked underneath the surface and my stomach clenched. Darkness everywhere. Engulfing coldness.
Upon entering, the obstreperous pop music almost stopped my brain from functioning. I felt the tropical breeze right away by the razzle dazzle blue painted walls, and mainly of the blasting air conditioning. The massive surfboards and uncountable pineapples lined against the counter like candles let on to finding myself at Hawaii dancing to the music, dressed in a grass skirt and floral shirts. The wooden stools and long tables just tied together the whole tropic energy. The air was a blend of vigourous smells in fresh bananas, strawberries, and coconuts bouncing
I let myself absorb the intense rays of the unforgiving sun, while the gentle sea breeze rustled through my hair; the sugar-like sand beneath my feet glimmered like jewels and seemed to continue for miles. I shut my somnolent eyes and appreciated the gentle breeze that accompanied the humid weather. The velvet-silk sand squished between my toes and collapsed under my weight with each step I took making my calves ache. The sounds of the ocean were calming; the consistent crashing of the waves took away all of my worries. I was surrounded by tranquillity.
Rolling waves gently brushed upon the sand and nipped softly at my toes. I gazed out into the oblivion of blue hue that lay before me. I stared hopefully at sun-filled sky, but I couldn’t help but wonder how I was going to get through the day. Honestly, I never thought in a million years that my daughter and I would be homeless. Oh, how I yearned for our house in the suburbs. A pain wrenched at my heart when I was once reminded again of my beloved husband, Peter. I missed him so much and couldn’t help but ask God why he was taken from us. Living underneath Pier 14 was no life for Emily and me. I had to get us out of here and back on our feet. My stomach moaned angrily. I needed to somehow find food for us, but how? Suddenly, something slimy brushed up against my leg and pierced my thoughts. I jumped back and brushed the residue of sand of my legs. What was that? As my eyes skimmed the water in front of me, I noticed something spinning in the foam of the waves. Curiosity got the best of me and I went over to take a closer look. The object danced in the waves and eventually was coughed out onto the beach. “Emily!” I called to my eight-year-old daughter who was, at that time, infatuated with a seashell that she found earlier that day. “Come here and see this! Mommy found something.” Although I had no idea what that something was and I definitely didn’t know it would change my life forever.
The sun had just peaked above the horizon, as the waves crashed at my feet. I sat alone on the beach of the beautiful Dominican waters. The wind was gusting ever so softly that it almost tickled the back of my neck. I admired the calm flow of the leaves on the palm trees that I never have been able to gaze upon. I sunk my feet into the cold, yet smooth sand.
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her humungous skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every
While walking by the shore I was amazed by the soft smooth sand beneath my feet, it seemed like all the worries I had throughout the year were finally erased. There was a rock facing the ocean that it thought was really cool, so I decided to settle there for a moment to appreciate the view, I closed my eyes for a second letting myself comforted by the sounds of the ocean, the sounds the waves were making against the rocks was impressive. Spending a few more minutes on the rock I decided to go back. Tying to help my parents for making breakfast, they sent me and my brother to get bread, and a few croissants at the bakery. My brother was driving while I was still wondering the landscape, I thought it was interesting how this island contained a mix between mountains, and beaches. At the table, conversations were spontaneous and positives, I forgot how fun breakfast could be when spending with family. That day we had has a plan to go to the beach, my mom could guess what me and my father had in mind. It was scuba diving and hunting with harpoons, but before we had to first buy the necessary equipment, and study the fishes we could hunt, since some were protected, and review the fishes that were edible. Finally done with preparation we headed to the beach, me and my dad waited that day for so long, being a big fan of hunting, I was quite impressed by the number of variety the Mediterranean Sea could provide, also what really shocked
But we did go on the boardwalk almost every night. Every night seemed to be different. We tried to experience everything in a different way. Coastal Highway, not unlike the ocean, seems to go on endlessly. When we were near Coastal Highway, I put my window down and let the smell of the sand and sea waft into the car. The rain had started, but it was only a light mist. The temperature had cooled off now too. I decided to take an evening swim. Some of the waves were raising nearly 10 feet. In the evening when we all entered the beach some lifeguards were announcing that tides are so strong. Though I was not