When I fall in love with a country, I fall hard. There may be many I fall in like with after a short romance, and a trip will end with an uncomfortable parting and a promise on my part, “I’ll keep in touch, really. I’ll be back.” And I do mean it.
But heart-stopping, daydreaming love, where I can’t get the place out of my mind? That’s happened twice.
For my official second country, Honduras, it took a while. It was mostly my fault. I was younger and wild, and settling down was the last thing on my mind. The leisurely pace of, well, everything was in constant conflict with my speedy, Type-A ways. Lack of sure schedules, especially transportation, had me grinding my teeth on a daily basis.
But then, like many patient partners, Honduras succeeded in calming me down. And I’m a changed woman. I may still be a planner, but I have an “it is what it is” attitude that has probably saved me from high blood pressure, heart attacks and who knows what else.
I know I haven’t mentioned this yet, but have you seen the country? It’s dazzling. The people—beautiful. The culture—amazing. It gets me smiling every time I think about it. One of the reasons for the glint in my eye over the past 12 years is due to Honduras.
Then I met Colombia, and I’m not sure if I should tell Honduras.
After only a week in the country, Colombia has stolen my heart—and I like it. Since I’ve returned home, I can’t get the place out of my mind. It’s my younger, hotter love interest. I sit at my desk and daydream and can’t get work done. My appetite has dwindled. All I can think about is when I can go back.
Do you think Honduras will mind sharing me with Colombia? Perhaps I’m crazy for thinking I can keep them both, without it ending in some wild lovers’ quarrel, but I’m going to try.
What’s the worst thing that could happen?