see

I'll be honest, when I learned that I'd be heading to the island of Hawai'i, I wasn't exactly excited about volcanoes. In fact, I may have even been a bit apathetic, muttering "head to the Big Island, see some volcanoes, how cliché." That's not to say that I didn't want to visit, but countless honeymoon photos and uninspiring stories had colored my expectations. However, with my low expectations, Volcanoes National Park had the upper hand during my visit. I returned home inspired and ridiculously excited about what I had seen.

In the shadows of darkness, two young men sit with drums at their feet. They begin to place their flattened palms to the deerskin. Faster and faster. One by one women dressed in long pleated skirts and light gauzy tops emerge from behind them, as if they are floating across the sand. I try to watch their feet to gain some sense of the rhythm. Left, left, right, right? Is that how it goes? My eyes can't keep up. Failing to discern, my gaze returns to the boys hands. What sort of rhythm were they keeping? My thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice calling out from the darkness and the rest of the women respond in song. I give up trying to understand and turn off my brain.

When I left for Belize in early December, I didn't anticipate bringing home anything with me other than a suntan. Instead, by the end of the week, I found myself with a huge crush on the habanero, particularly in the form of hot sauce made by Marie Sharp. Good thing a visit to the factory was on my itinerary.