A Good Day

it's early morning and we're on the Hummingbird Highway. everyone's perched at the windows, cameras in hand, as we curve through this breathtaking scene. even if we weren't plowing past it all on a bus, cameras would never do this view justice. the green of all the trees and bush is intensified as the sun finally reveals itself. the mist on the mountains, thatch-roofed houses, flowing waterways- you can't look away.
how did any of us get here? i can't fathom what i've done to deserve this.

we arrive in Dangriga for our "Garifuna Cultural Experience;" when the drumming, singing, and punta shaking starts i forget how shitty my current meds are making me feel. the room is small and steamy, the sound is immense. i wish i had my tape recorder (for a year i carried around a tape recorder and turned it on when a conversation turned interesting, but i have yet to listen to those tapes). we joined pinky fingers and the women sang in Garifuna; the language flows and mesmerizes me. i quickly fall in love with the Garifuna mantra "i for you, and you for me."
on the way back we stop at the Blue Hole off the highway; the cool and clean water in this shaded swimming hole is delightfully refreshing. i find myself floating again, kicking against the strong current, staring up at the blue sky and the circle of looming trees far overhead.
i can't help but ask again, how did i get here?