The young Senorita Williams and I braved traffic jams and bureaucratic obstacles and missed nap time and faced threat of rain and many tears and even a slight fever with a little congestion to obtain her FIRST PASSPORT! Oh, my love, may this be the first of many many passports in your life, and may each one be graced with dog-eared pages and multi-colored stamps of distant ports and airports.
I have been thinking a lot lately about coral reefs and glaciers. In the entire history of humanity, such a small percentage of beings has ever seen either. And with coral bleaching and melting icecaps, very few members of future generations, in spite of ease of travel to the extreme ends of the earth and the bottom of the oceans, will see these wonders. But Liana and I have the privilege of having been born during this brief window of opportunity. Together, we will see both. I so look forward to taking her on her first snorkeling trip, to see a shallow reef full of coral and anemone and fish and crustations. And together we will see our first glacier. Of course there will also be jungles and pine forests and deserts and sparkling cities and savannahs. And in her lifetime, perhaps orbital hotels or bubble enclosed cities on our moon, or even farther away.
We began our lives together here in the shadow of the volcanoes of Fuego and Agua. This passport will allow her to join me on a journey to the city of legends, which will soon become her home.
I have been thinking a lot lately about coral reefs and glaciers. In the entire history of humanity, such a small percentage of beings has ever seen either. And with coral bleaching and melting icecaps, very few members of future generations, in spite of ease of travel to the extreme ends of the earth and the bottom of the oceans, will see these wonders. But Liana and I have the privilege of having been born during this brief window of opportunity. Together, we will see both. I so look forward to taking her on her first snorkeling trip, to see a shallow reef full of coral and anemone and fish and crustations. And together we will see our first glacier. Of course there will also be jungles and pine forests and deserts and sparkling cities and savannahs. And in her lifetime, perhaps orbital hotels or bubble enclosed cities on our moon, or even farther away.
We began our lives together here in the shadow of the volcanoes of Fuego and Agua. This passport will allow her to join me on a journey to the city of legends, which will soon become her home.
When the giant tree outside of my bedroom window is bare, I can see the Empire State Building, and each night it lights up different color. Perhaps one of our winter evening rituals will be looking out at the colors of the Empire State Building. Summer evening rituals will certainly take us outside.
On the streets of Jackson Heights, the princess will meet people from every corner of planet earth, and learn about what they think and believe, and how their traditions survive in a strange place, and hear about their memories of distant lands. And we will travel, and visit some of those distant lands. And we will return here to Guatemala over the years as well.
My first passport was issued in another era. My mom, my dad and a seven or eight year old me are smiling into the camera together. A single, family passport. My dad loved that image, and we found a copy of that photo in his wallet after he died. We first put that passport to use to run around Europe like vagabonds for months one summer. My mother instilled in me the wonder of traveling so far away. I remember sitting at the gate waiting to board the 747 for Amsterdam, feeling my mother’s excitement build. This, she explained, was the trip of a lifetime. THE trip to Europe.
On the streets of Jackson Heights, the princess will meet people from every corner of planet earth, and learn about what they think and believe, and how their traditions survive in a strange place, and hear about their memories of distant lands. And we will travel, and visit some of those distant lands. And we will return here to Guatemala over the years as well.
My first passport was issued in another era. My mom, my dad and a seven or eight year old me are smiling into the camera together. A single, family passport. My dad loved that image, and we found a copy of that photo in his wallet after he died. We first put that passport to use to run around Europe like vagabonds for months one summer. My mother instilled in me the wonder of traveling so far away. I remember sitting at the gate waiting to board the 747 for Amsterdam, feeling my mother’s excitement build. This, she explained, was the trip of a lifetime. THE trip to Europe.
My parents would visit Europe perhaps a dozen more times in their lives. Tour the America’s from Alaska to Antarctica, and in between sweat in the Amazon jungle, and see seemingly lifeless deserts and dine in Latin America’s most dazzling cities. They took cruises through the Caribbean, Greece, Alaska, the Panama Canel, Scandanavia, and even around the tip of South America. They got the travel bug into me young. And little Liana, I plan to get the travel bug into you. Consider it a gift from your grandparents.
