Part 3.a: Back to the DR

As soon as I got back to the Dominican Republic, I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. I always want to move forward in my life, and this felt like taking a step backward: going back because I was afraid to move on.

The only positive thing about going back to the DR was that I got to spend another month there with Mama who also decided to start traveling. We spent the next 30 days eating magnificent mangos, swimming in the ocean three to four times a day, and crying about how lost we felt.

The cliche that people who travel nonstop are running from something turned out to be very true for me. The problem was, I didn't know that at the time. If you don't know what you're running from, how can you possibly stop running and confront it?

The rose-colored glasses came off, and I started seeing some negative things in the country I once thought was perfect. The parties lost their appeal, and I lost my temper with the constant catcalling in the streets. I knew that my time in the DR was special, but was definitely coming to a close. I started looking for other places to go, but nothing was calling to me.

For reasons predestined, I ended up booking a flight to a small fishing village in Colombia called Taganga, while Mama stayed in Sosua. I had no previous desire to go to Colombia - all I'd heard about was Pablo Escobar, and that didn't interest me much.

I was really nervous to leave. The last time I left the DR, I ended up coming back within weeks. I felt like such a coward, so I bucked up and left my safety net of an island.

Thank god I did go. While the DR taught me to stop looking for your happiness in the past, Colombia taught me to never judge a book by its cover.