Origin Story

Everyone likes a good origin story. It’s too bad that they only seem to be told about superheroes these days. Because how we all came to a certain point in life, it’s usually pretty interesting. And though the events of my life leading me to 3 Cabras Perdidas are hardly typical, here I will simply share how I came to love to travel.

Travel

I was born in Birmingham, Alabama while my dad worked his first job out of GA Tech as a civil engineer; building a suspension bridge for trains. Before I turned one we moved to Houston, Texas where my dad had another short term contract. After that wrapped up we moved to Little Rock, Arkansas and then on to New Orleans for another year and so it went through high school. By the time I graduated and left for college, I had lived in 8 states, 10 cities, 2 countries and attended 9 different schools.

I cannot tell you how many times upon hearing this, the listener has responded: wow, that must have been really hard for you. I remember the first time I heard this I was confused. In what way would this have been hard? My childhood was difficult, make no mistake, but not because we moved so much. I loved it! And here are a few reasons why.

We moved around the Southeast of the US and I learned at a very young age how diverse a region this is. North Carolina, Louisiana, Texas, Georgia – all very different places. The southern accents, the food, the attitudes; similar, but different.

We sometimes lived near beaches, sometimes mountains. I grew to love them both.

We moved to a foreign country when I was 10 and I experienced the shock that there are people speaking, dressing and worshipping in a very different manner than anything I had ever imagined – and I had tried to imagine it. My parents attempted to prepare us for the move, but being told about a place, or seeing it on tv is very different from experiencing it. I remember being amazed that this world existed at the same time as the world I lived in. I felt like I had moved to a parallel universe.

Another pro? Food.

Everywhere we went, the food was a bit different. My mom’s and grandmother’s cooking were the only true constants in the food I ate growing up. Mexican, Tex-Mex, Korean, Middle Eastern, Indian, Filipino, German, French – I had tried them all before turning 11. To drive this home a bit further, I have a brother with Down’s Syndome. People with Down’s tend to be notoriously non-adventurous eaters. Not my brother, the more exotic the food, the better.

And so when I respond with the above to whoever thought moving must have made my childhood such a difficult experience, they without fail have to add: but what about changing schools and having to make new friends all the time; that must have been really hard. Hmmm, maybe, but maybe not.

I was a nerd. Though predominantly a music nerd, I was also obsessed with tv, books, movies, musicals, dance, and the performing arts in general. And I am fairly certain that it didn’t really matter where I went to school or how many schools I went to – I wasn’t exactly going to ever fit in.

So then, you must have missed having stability as a kid?

But here’s the thing: stability does not come from living in one place your whole childhood or your whole life. It does not come from working the same job or staying in the same relationship. Stability comes from knowing who you are. Everything else is in flux. 

So was moving a lot as a kid hard? No, it wasn’t. But it did help shape who I am today. It instilled a curiosity to learn about other corners of the world, their language, food, art, culture and geography. It is absolutely at the root of my love for travel.