It happened to be just a little over 30 days since I turned 30 and I needed another vacation to celebrate my 30th year of life. Lauren’s passport was getting dusty. I had been planning on Peru, but Lauren couldn’t do Peru during my inflexible travel window. And since I’d rather travel with friends than alone, we tossed out some ideas and based on cost and travel times. Lauren, the ultimate friend connector, scouted another mutual friend, BeBe to come along. After two weeks of group texts, e-mails, and Facebook chats decided on Panama and an AirBnB apartment on the beach. Bags were packed and we were set to rally in Panama for my first Spring Break as a college professor.
First Night in Central America
It was surreal to meet with Bebe and Lauren again. The girls flew in from Louisiana and I came from SoCal. It had been since my cross-country road trip last August that I’d seen them in person but with social media, it hardly seemed that long. I arrived five hours after the girls and an instant party in the kitchen ensued. Bebe free-styled her travel themed version of “At The Same Damn Time” while I danced to her beat. Mind you, I was still working on a Texas Margarita from the Houston Airport.
We took our party to the resort and explored the amenities until we found a Karaoke Bar! The bar was full of multicultural tourist from all over the world. Noticeable among the groups was a small contingent of cute American military men there prepping for the arrival of our nation’s president. Note to all, President Obama’s entourage is groupie-worthy. Anyway, songs in all languages were being played. Lotsa Taylor Swift was sung in all sorts of different accents. The playlist was devoid of Beyoncé and Britney which are traditional Karaoke songs. So we made do with what we had.
“Don’t Stop Believin” this was Karaoke Night take II
It was a “Total Eclipse of the Heart” moment when Lauren took the mic while Bebe and I twirled and leaped about the space as interpretive background dancers. Pretty much brought the house down and caught the eye of a cute, and all-around fabulous American woman who came up and introduced herself. Three girls having a blast and building memories with each other, who wouldn’t want to join the fun? She was there on a surprise vacation she planned for her mom. I dedicated the next song, a Back Street Boy’s classic, to “Danielle’s Mom.” After that, Danielle and her mom were integrated into our group. Now I must say, it’s not every night out that I go to bars and pick up hot chicks, but there’s a first for everything. We just clicked. It was like Danielle was a long, lost soul sister that we’d all known for forever. I loved how each of the four of us were different but complimentary enough that we just effortlessly fell into place together. We shut the bar down but linked back up the following days to share our day adventures.
The Week that Followed
Meals were the best here. Not just because dinning is my favorite way of experiencing local culture, but because of the amazing, refreshing conversations we had. We dished over stories of travel and adventure. We discussed our international guy experiences. Did Europe have a safer racial climate than America or did we benefit from our American privilege. We discussed how passports were more than just a passport, but rather a visual display of values and understanding of the world. We discussed turning 30 and gave some insight to what Lauren, the youngest of us, had to expect. It was just thrilling to find a fellow adventurer and young professional.
Lunch at the Fish Market outside of Casco Viejo.
During one particular meal-time conversation our similarities became more apparent. Everyone at the table was a young, female professional. Bosses, no less. Although in very different career fields, we experienced the same challenges.
“What was it that they called me…,” I sorted around my mind for the right word, used to describe me in during a peer feedbac half a year earlier.
I remembered how it felt to be called that. I’ve NEVER been called abrasive my whole life! I was always an acquiescent doormat! Moreover, any of my friends and acquaintances would describe me as more of a grace-granting, kumbayah-type. It was like the new word for Bitch and Bossy. Once words get called out for their double standard connotations, they got replaced with new words. I remembered the instance that I felt brought on that label. I got interrupted during group discussions so much that I decided to make a game out of it and tally up the number of times I was interrupted while speaking. Eighteen times before lunch was the highest mark. I had plenty of valuable experience to share but I was talked over. With my southern background, I had too much respect to talk when other people are talking, so I acquiesced until one occasion when I had the floor and was in the middle of an explanation when someone jumped in with a whole different conversation starter as if he was deaf to my voice. Calmly, I stated “I’m sorry, I wasn’t finished speaking yet.” The room gasped in horror. Later the backlash, ‘OMG, you told him off!” I was socially accosted for expecting a little respect.
Then, I grappled with how I should take the feedback. I should change and alter myself to fit the expectations of the group. And how was I to do that. Be silent. Again. Because my views, experiences, and opinions are less valid than everyone else’s? I didn’t do anything differently than the men I worked with. I asserted my opinion as well. But my view differed from the male majority. There is a double standard. Men aren’t told to watch or modify their tone. The difference in perception is sexist and discriminatory. We know there’s this phenomenon men seem to be blind to, but what do we do about it?
All of us had multiple similar stories. Danielle, being the boss that she is, made a decision but her decision wasn’t respected. She was accused of being emotional and unprofessional. She checked her accuser.
“No, you are being unprofessional right now, because if I were a man you’d be praising me for being passionate,” she reminded him. Gave him a little bit of something to think about.
And so that’s how you deal with it. You throw it back. You don’t accept and internalize the label but instead, offer another label, sexist, as a more likely probability. Power and fearlessness culminated in a little 5 foot 2 package. It was an empowering and rare conversation to hear how other career women responded with universal circumstances.
Diner Convos and the Future
Two years ago, Lauren, Angie and I went on a Mediterranean cruise where we vowed to go somewhere fantastic every year together. We sat down at a dinner with our South African dinner mates and drafted out our plans. Well, twelve months after that pact was made, Angie had met the love of her life, got married, and had a baby. I was being held in a Middle Eastern country as a black-listed, illegal immigrant. Lauren was on her own for her South East Asian tour. Just a testament to how fast life and plans can change. Even knowing this immutable fact of life, at a dinning table in panama, the four of us, with mom listening in, started planning which part of the world we wanted to take on next, together. Cambodia, Viet Nam, Peru, Galapagos Island, Australia the list was all over and would take years to accomplish. Then we started planning which vacations we’d take together as a couples. “I want to do this even when we get married,” Lauren said.
Looking like long-time friends, met two nights ago.
And her desire was unanimous among all of us. An unmarried 30-year-old Southern Belle is a bit of a unicorn — a cultural fact I’m often reminded of by southerners. But on this trip, I was relieved I that I was free of any life long-commitment. The vibe would have been totally different otherwise. This was the life that somehow got carved out for me and I was thankful for it. As Danielle described it, “To be around successful people as driven as myself at our age is rare. I think at our age you look for people who share your values and compliment you and your life. You guys do that for me.”In addition to having the expectation that our life-mate would be our life-long travel partner, we also wanted to continue experiencing our own girl friends adventures, sans the significant men in our lives. We want to travel with just the girls and send our guys on trips with his boys (so long as it’s somewhere where we’re not too interested in visiting with him). We want to go on romantic trips with just our beau and then trips that combine our beau with our besties and our beaux. We recognized that for us, that would require selecting secure men who could be trusted not to go on a drama-filled, jealous rage if we didn’t What’sApp them fast enough throughout the day. It would require that our guys were just as adventurous as our friends. We dreamed of possibilities and I was excited and hopeful for the future but most of all, amazingly content with the present. That’s what happened in Panama.
That time we fit seven people in a taxi.
Tram ride through the jungle
Danielle, Lauren, Bebe, Me, Danielle’s mom, & the Taxi driver’s adorable son that we adopted for the week.
Two weeks later I met up with Danielle on a Wednesday night to meet her and her girl friends in Newport Beach, California and the four of us continue to have epic group message convos daily.
