Haley Rae's Blog

  I sit in the passenger seat of my mom’s new car, thumping my fingers on my knee to my latest obsession, 'Under the Bridge' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. My mom sings along as we drive east on 50, heading for the place I’ll call home for the next 2 to 3 years. We pass empty fields, endless trees, and small towns dotted along the road. Nothing eye-opening, nothing unique, just another drive to another destination. I should be more excited, thrilled even, that I’ve found the place meant to be my home for the next few years. But I don’t feel it yet, not truly. The reality hasn’t quite set in as we pull into downtown Salisbury, MD, 20 miles from Ocean City, 75 miles from Annapolis, and 132 miles from Norfolk. I look out at the small strip of local businesses that make up the town and sigh, reminding myself that this is the start of my career in broadcasting. The thing I’ve wanted since sophomore year has finally come true, and yet all I feel is numbness. My mom and I start ticking...

  The wet heat blinds my senses as I step off the plane into the humid habitat of Punta Cana. I look around, wondering where I’ve just put myself for the next week. Will it be college kid heaven? Or will we be crawling our way out by the end of it? Palm trees line the horizon, and I hear the rapid-fire rhythm of a language I studied for years, one that I still struggle to understand at the speed the Dominican people speak. The language barrier becomes more and more evident, and I realize that my time in South Florida did little to improve my Spanish. We find our way to the bus, where funky, gray-stained shades cover every window. As we settle in, a wave of panic washes over me, one I’ve never felt before while traveling. Fear. I sit on the worn cushions and try to peek out the shades, hoping to catch a glimpse of the island. As we drive, the roads are littered with trash, people sitting along what they consider a highway, and remnants of what used to be homes. The reality of the Ca...