I boarded my plane {still somewhat tipsy} to Central America around 4:00 AM. By this time, I had lived in New York for nearly nine months. I had grown accustomed to everything that came along with residing in the big apple: the crowded subways, the anxiety-triggering fast pace, the smell of morning garbage wafting along the Manhattan streets, and sounds of honking horns, angry shop owners, and police sirens. Needless to say, I was due for a change of pace. It was time to trade in the concrete jungle, for an actual one. Continue Reading
