Simba Does Oklahoma City

I’m fortunate to have “homes” sprinkled all over the country, but Oklahoma City holds a special place in my heart. My God Dad lives on the outskirts of the city on a 5 acre homestead. Before he lived here, he had a great hand in raising me in Seattle. I’ve always testified that in the absence of my biological father I was blessed with three quasi-fathers. My maternal grandfather, my uncle (mom’s brother), and my God Dad, who is my grandfather’s first cousin and best friend. Those three men have loved me, guided me, and molded me in ways that only a man can.

Only a week after arriving in St Thomas, I touched down in Oklahoma City. No one I told of my travel plans understood why I would go from the tropical paradise of St. Thomas to the dry farmlands of Oklahoma. Outside of visiting my family and the Sooners, I know nothing about the culture or landscape of the state or city. So my review of my travels will be more of a tribute to my family than a review of the city.

My God Dad moved to Oklahoma in 2001, seeing the impending gentrification of Seattle, he opted to sell his property for double the purchase price and move back to the south. He worked extremely hard as a long haul trucker for nearly 30 years. Coming from a one room house in Montgomery, Texas, he was able to manage his money and pool his resources to purchase 5 acres of land where he planted and cultivate his own cotton only to pick it his self in a symbolic ritual of arrival. 

This was the first time my daughter has any memory of meeting him and she has been excited for this trip for months at the promise of fishing and playing with the 2 German Shepherds that live on the property. We settled in quickly. I was flooded with nostalgic images of playing in the antique toys and items that litter their home. Every drawer is filled with treasures that my ‘Aunt’ & ‘Uncle’ affectionately call junk.

During my 5 day stay, I learned new thing about these two human beings that I had never noticed before. Their playfully affectionate relationship seemed to be missed on me as a child, or maybe they were just in an unhappy space. I talked openly with my God Mom about their marriage and my God Dad’s infidelities. She spoke with strength and humor about how they were able to move past something my generation often regards as the ultimate deal breaker. My affection and affinity for my God Dad has always eclipsed my God Mom, but only because I felt that she was stand-offish and cold as an adolescent. Whether this feeling was real or preconceived, I saw a very different side of her on this trip. A more open and transparent side. Which can only happen when you cross the threshold from childhood to adulthood.

 There is one general emotion that encapsulated me while I was there . . . gratitude. When you spend years away from people who were once everyday pillars in your life, it makes you compare and contrast the past and the present. They are two adults who virtually adopted me, and provided guiding principles I still stand on today. They dedicated parts of their earnings for me to go to college and made me a substantial part of their legacy. They gave me security that my parents weren’t prepared to give.

 Neither my God Mom nor God Dad are in the best health. The mortality of being human is frightening for me. The thought of inevitably losing them brings tears to my eyes. In a world where selfishness and apathy run rampant, losing those who have vowed to love you unconditionally makes everything else seem insignificant. While my 20 something self spends days and nights hopelessly analyzing thoughts of self-sufficiency, entrepreneurship, and financial security visiting my Godparents reminded me that all that I need and want has already been delivered to me. That a legacy has already been established and all I have to do is carry it forth.

Oklahoma City and its surrounding area may be considered lackluster to most of my peers, but I found a sense of peace in the quiet serenity of the country side. From the distinctive caw of the hawks flying overhead to the soft rustling of trees in the wind. Life outside of the city has brought my Godparents to a place of contentment. Things aren’t perfect. The aches and pains of old age leave them in discomfort but their environment is that of supreme comfort and security. A place most of us dream of, but rarely see illustrated.

Simba Does The U.S. Virgin Islands

I want to start off by saying it’s important to be open minded yet aware when traveling. Don’t let preconceived notions dictate how you will explore a new location and its inhabitants. Most who visit the Caribbean never leave their resort. I overheard two young men saying they decide to vacation in the Virgin Islands as opposed to Jamaica because Jamaica was a “shady” place.  I, on the contrary, arrived on St. Thomas looking for local fare and fun.

While I expected this trip to be a pleasure trip I knew it would be highly emotional. I was traveling with a side of my family that I have been estranged from for roughly 10 years. I arrived to Chicago O’Hare airport, nervous with anticipation. It was early morning, but my family was warm and happy to see me. It was the first time I had seen my dad since I graduated high school and his first time meeting my 8 year old daughter. I settled my rising anxiety by insisting to be myself, wholly and authentically. I would be open, honest, and playful. I left my social commentary and political sentiments in Seattle. This week was purely about reconnecting with family and enjoying a region of the world I had never been to.

As I expected, the scenery was beautiful. I found it difficult to edit the photos for this article because the vibrancy of the landscape was perfect. From the time our plane landed to the time it departed, every angle of the island was draped in a beautiful blue sky that met at the horizon with a combination of deep blue and light blue ocean waters. Lush greenery was everywhere, most of the island was untouched with houses sprinkled amongst the hillsides. Since there was 16 of us, we rented a massive house that overlooked Bongolo Bay. Beautifully decorated and equipped with a pool, our home was a vacation in and of itself.

Our first night was filled with joy and excitement of being in a new place. We dined at Iggie’s, a beachfront bar and restaurant that offered typical American fare with a Caribbean twist. The atmosphere was chill and being less than 5 minutes from our rental, it became a frequent hang out for my siblings and I. This trip was beyond special because I got to bond with my brothers and sisters. Being number of 4 of 7 makes me the sole middle child.

My sister and family arrived the second night and we ventured out to find some ‘trouble’ to get into. My Aunty suggested a hole in the wall spot called the Unuground, no typo. Imagine how surprised we were to discover this dive bar was actually a strip club. My conservative aunt let us hang around for a round of drinks anda couple song choices selected from a TV that was using YouTube to provide the ambiance, but afterwards she quickly ushered us out.

My favorite part of this trip was the 20 minute ferry ride and day spent on St. Johns. This neighboring island is mostly a federally protected national park. Along the rim of the island laid numerous bays and coves each more beautiful than the last. The park offered hiking trails with military and slave quarters still standing in remote parts of the park.  We swam as a family in Cruzman Bay in 70 degree salt water that left my body feeling lighter than air.

The rest of our week was spent in various places across the island, my favorite being Coki Beach. A local hangout with shopping, live entertainment, and local food. After 3 too many drinks I devoured some fresh red snapper that was served on a bed of Caribbean style rice and beans, alongside some fried plantains. Our last two days were jam packed with activities. I experienced jet skiing for the first time since childhood, I seen a sea turtle (bucket list item crossed off), and rode on a sunset cruise supplied with unlimited Rum Runners.

I loved the vibe of the island, how it was insulated and maintained its own sense of culture and style. The elected officials mirrored and interacted with the locals. The tourist shops ran on a barter system that would be completely foreign to the average American. It was a beautiful place, with beautiful people, brown people who looked just like my family. This adventure inspired me to step my travel game up next year and see as many places as I can afford to. We cannot truly say we know life and we know experience, until we’ve traveled to places outside of our everyday reality. It gives us perspective, highlights our interest, and opens our thoughts to the limitless possibilities of what life can be.

My goal for this year was to answer the tough question of “Who am I?” and this trip offered a piece of the puzzle. I discovered that I was not alone in my quirkiness or indecisiveness. That my thirst to constantly improve is actually a family trait. That no matter what happens, my life could never truly crumble. There will always be a home for me from Chicago to Houston. I felt the love from a group of people whom I always wanted love from and who always wanted the opportunity to love me.

As I stated in my LA travels, family makes traveling that much more enjoyable. I laughed, I cried, and I sat silently. Life is so full of blessings, make sure you show gratitude for each and everyone one of them. Person, place, or thing.