I’m good on airplanes, flying above the Earth in a small cylinder has never bothered me. I try to sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight as pilots often advise. However, on my flight to the Bahamian Island of Andros, the pilot added a step to the overused gimmick and asked me to hold the plane door open. I found myself sitting in the cockpit of a six-seater Beechcraft Bonanza A36 next to a pilot I had met five minutes ago, holding the airplane door open. Suffice it to say, I was sitting straight up, stressing out, and beginning to question my life choices.
Accompanying me on the plane were my bags, full of SCUBA gear, and three other volunteers who were all grateful they weren’t the ones holding the plane door open. The pilot, a competent flyer, felt no need to offer an explanation for the seemingly bizarre request. The gate agent didn’t even check my ticket at the terminal in Nassau. This was my first taste of the ‘go with the flow’ attitude the islanders in the Bahamas had.
To my great relief, the pilot asked me to close the door just before takeoff and we landed in Andros 45 minutes later. We were picked up by a taxi driver who threw our bags in the bed of the truck. He threw me in the bed as well after realizing there were enough seats in the cab. This capped off the craziest travel experience of my life.
Over the next few weeks, the group of volunteers honed our diving skills and scrubbed unhealthy algae off of coral nurseries. Under the water, I had a purpose and a schedule to follow. Everything is timed when diving: O2 levels, depth, time spent underwater, but above the waves was a different story.
Life felt like it slowed to half the speed of what my life in America felt like. Bahamians relaxed like professionals. Timeliness was an option, arriving casually late was the norm. People took the time to greet everyone they saw at the store, bar, or on the beach. I was told by the locals that it was considered rude to not greet strangers when passing by.
At first, I struggled to relax despite the beauty that surrounded me. I had moved to the Bahamas for a reason, I was on a mission of sorts, to help out an issue I felt passionate about. With so much free time throughout the day, I began to feel aimless and even useless. It was hard for me to feel content or satisfied with my day when I would accomplish nothing. A week of bad weather kept us landlocked, which only contributed to my restlessness.
I got to spend more time with the locals that week since I wasn’t diving. I noticed that everyone around me was almost always in high spirits. People were content with relaxing and taking life at a slower pace. Someone had to remind me how lucky I was to be there, and how much my surroundings could teach me.
I was failing to appreciate the beauty around me and was focusing too hard on things beyond my control. So, the next time I went to the local shop, I tried to remain in the moment. I wasn’t annoyed that the shopkeeper took ten minutes to show up, instead, I embraced the sounds and sights around me.
My life is so fast-paced in America, I don’t realize all of the little things in life that we all just glance over. When things slow down, my focus expands and I began to learn more about myself and the people around me. I took the time to build connections and create memories. Little tasks started to feel like grand adventures which helped me learn in the end, how to relax.
As I said farewell to the island of Andros and boarded the skinny prop plane, I felt no rush to get home. I sat back in my seat, held the airplane door open, and enjoyed the flight.
