As my friends and I planned for our trip, the excitement in my voice was obvious. It was as if I had never been out of Valdosta, but the truth was, I had not been anywhere for the entire semester. I had been joggling a sixteen hour course load at school, a forty hour work week and as if that was not enough, I had the added bonus of a confusing relationship.
Everyone at work new I would be out of town that weekend, I made it my business to talk about it everyday that week. My friends warned that I was not coming back given the luggage I was packing, and my heart kept leaping, with each leap, hoping I would soon land in Atlanta.
We set off Friday evening, an hour later than we had planned, but that was ok, I had a lot of last minute things to do. We loaded the Nissan Maxima; four proud Belizeans, with the Belizean flag hanging on the rear view mirror and cultural music blasting from the speakers. We were going to have a weekend to remember.
The drive to Atlanta was three and a half hours long, but I was not surprised at all to find myself sleeping in the first hour of the drive. I had a long week and I was tired indeed. The remainder of the trip was just as relaxing as the first hour. I took in everything I saw, as if I had never been this way.
We arrived at Stone Mountain in the night and met up with our host family. They were very happy to see us. As we walked in the door to their home, there was food already prepared for us. That is what we call a welcome. Nice home cooked Belizean food, just like it would be if we were home. We had white rice, curry chicken, ripe plantain and juice. We enjoyed our meal and talked the night away. We had some more