My boyfriend and I had been planning our summer vacation for about nine months. We thumbed through brochures and took virtual tours of every beachfront hotel from San Francisco to Singapore. We deserved this after all. We cut back on entertainment costs, adjusted our thermostat, we even switched to the generic brand of macaroni and cheese. Sunshine and crashing waves were going to be our reward for a job well done.
After nine months of bickering with airlines and cursing hotels, I was ready for the promise of paradise to be delivered. And it was, but not before a six hour plane delay and a one and a half hour cab ride through the slums of the island. Driving past the dilapidated buildings and unkempt children made me feel dirty. Not because the surroundings were substandard, but because I assumed they'd be immaculate -- like the brochures, like my under appreciated home. I thought to myself, do I deserve a vacation more than these people deserve clean water? Is it even fair that while I'm basking in the sun at a resort six miles down the road, a woman is giving birth in unsanitary conditions at the very spot I had just past? Sure I labored hard, but so too had these people. I wasn't sure if I should carry out my vacation or abort my plans altogether. It made me wonder, if all men are created equal, why do some have so much more?
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