Upon my return from a week-long family trip to the island of Saint Maarten, I felt refreshed and renewed. But, (as I always do- my habit of constant reflection is a gift and a curse, more of a curse in this case) I found myself reflecting on the irony of the experience.
The island is gorgeous, with sparkling Caribbean waters and handsome sunsets. Colorful houses elevated on lush green hills and our sprawling resorts made me feel nothing less than blissful upon arrival. But the irony to me was in the fact that the island seems to only be paradise for the visitor, not the resident.
After speaking with various locals, the steadily decreasing economy -- much like here in the US -- has taken a considerable toll on St. Maarten residents. With gas at around $5.80 a gallon and numerous homeless islanders roaming the streets alongside homeless animals, it doesn't take much to notice the poverty level of the island -- but, of course, the visitor is conveniently distracted by the tropical breeze.
After first pondering the irony of my "vacation" I tried superficially inject the question into my mind of how can anybody be miserable in such a beautiful place? But the reality is that the majority of destinations that serve as utopian getaways for the middle and upper class of another land are drowning in issues of poverty, crime, and misfortune.
Don't get me wrong -- I thoroughly enjoyed my trip where I spent my 21st birthday. A trip parasailing showed me the true depth of the physical beauty of the island that left me in awe. But for the remainder of my trip, despite my best efforts to just relax and enjoy myself, inevitable guilt continued to creep into my physque as I laid sipping pina coladas and enjoying the high life in what should be somebody's else's paradise.
Perhaps I'm crazy and should just accept that this is the way of the world. Or, as I can hope, maybe there's somebody out there from another country with a similar secret overly active social conscience who feels tinges of guilt as they walk past homeless men on their way to a Broadway Show in New York City. Someone's arcadia is always someone else's abyss.
