The first Sunday we had off, Rockets and I decided to go galavanting. We drove west, hoping to see what the island was like beyond the cheery tourist traps of Port Lucaya (where our hotel is located) and the sleepy township of Smith's Point where we are doing most of our filming. We found a part of Grand Bahama island still trying to recover from the hurricanes that devastated the area a few years ago--hurricanes that rained down waste on communities already ravaged by extreme poverty. Many of these houses were under 6 feet of water when the hurricane hit. Some people rebuilt while some tried to carry on best they could with what was left, and some people just left it behind and sought out the continuation of life elsewhere. The ride back home (to our hotel with daily maid service and the high end jewelry shops located just beyond our doors) was passed with thoughts of gratitude for the relative luxury of life as we know it. I remember being a small child of 7 or 8 and complaining about not having some new toy or another. Rather than lecture me about appreciating what we had and realizing how blessed we actually were, my dad just drove me through the shanty part of town. Even at that age, the object lesson was not lost on me. Driving out to the west end of Grand Bahama Island, I found myself among the tenement streets of Georgia once again, and I thanked God for my own set of worries and challenges that all of a sudden seemed so trivial.
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