Having left the mean streets of El Salvador behind, I was quick to blend in with the geriatrics of Florida and relax poolside for a few days.  Meanwhile, Marlene was elbow deep in asparagus doing hard labor on a sustainable farm.  However, the project was to be put on hold for a few weeks for Christmas, and seeing as flights from Central America were around $30, I extended an invitation to spend the holidays with my family. Since we had only known one another for about a month, I assumed she might think it was way too soon to meet the parents and decline the offer. At first she did, but a couple days later I got a message saying she had booked her ticket. Well, that was unexpected. Now I have to see if it is actually OK with the rest of my family. Thankfully my parents are the most welcoming people you could ever hope to meet and it was no problem. I was, however, a bit concerned about my sister. We rarely see each other and I feared that she might not be so happy to share time with some harlot her brother found on the road, so my mom and I decided to keep this our little secret until Marlene arrived. As it turns out, our worries were unsubstantiated and Katie seemed to welcome Marlene with open arms. It is worth noting that Marlene arrived with no less than 5 bottles of aged rum, so that might have worked to smooth over any ill will there may have been.

For the next 10 days we did everything there is to do in the small retirement town of Venice, Florida. Putt putt, shuffle board, walks on the beach, hit the driving range, a deep sea fishing trip, a trip to a wildlife reserve, and above all else, we ate like kings. If there is one thing you can count on my mom for, it is delicious and abundant food. After relaxing and gorging ourselves for the length of her stay, it was time for Marlene to head back to Nicaragua.

With Marlene gone, and myself with nowhere to go, my parents decided this was the right time to take me to lunch in a public place and ambush me with a birds and the bees talk. I will do you the kindness that my parents didn’t grant me and spare you the details, but here I am at 30 years old having my first sex talk with my parents. Sorry folks, but the ship has kind of sailed on that one. All I can assume now is that Marlene didn’t leave that good of an impression after all.

At this point I was chomping at the bit to get the hell out of Florida, but I was at a crossroads. Possibly the best possible crossroads one could be in, but a crossroads nonetheless. I could either fly to Patagonia and work my way north while chasing the sun towards summer, or fly to Honduras to fulfill a dream of becoming a dive master and work my way south. Prior to Marlene’s arrival in Florida I was leaning heavily towards Patagonia. If I had done that, it is likely that Marlene and I would never have cross paths again. If I went to Honduras, it was possible that we could meet up after I completed my dive master. While I wish I could say it was purely for love, the cost, logistics, and equipment required for Patagonia were more than I could justify. Thus, Honduras it was. I could never have predicted the impact that one small decision would have on the rest of my life.