This is one of the earliest trips represented in these galleries. I was fresh out of college when I had the opportunity to become part of the first cohort of interns for a nonprofit launching a cross-cultural exchange program. The plan was simple enough: work alongside community members and a local church with projects of their choosing in a remote mountain village in Jamaica, with several trips back and forth to a small village in Mexico where I had volunteered during high school. I knew I should probably be studying for my nursing boards, but I convinced myself that I could study while in Jamaica. Looking back, that may have been slightly over-optimistic.

After an initial trip to Mexico, I was supposed to return to Jamaica. Instead, I found myself stranded in Miami as a major hurricane swept through the Caribbean (a precursor to Hurricane Katrina). The storm hit Jamaica hard. Trees were bending sideways in Miami, flights were canceled, and travelers were stranded in the airport for days. As luck would have it, I never made it back. Everything I had left in Jamaica was eventually "donated," and when the time came to take my nursing boards... well, let's just say I ended up taking that exam twice.

Jamaica was also a far more challenging place to work than I had anticipated, particularly in the rural mountain community where I found myself. Whenever food shipments arrived or supplies were needed, we would make the long journey into Montego Bay. There, the carefully curated cruise-ship version of Jamaica felt worlds apart from the daily realities facing those who lived in communities like the one I was in. It was one of my earliest lessons in how tourism can shape—and sometimes obscure—our understanding of a place.

What I remember most, however, are the people. I grew particularly fond of the pastor of the local church who welcomed us into the community. More than twenty years later, he is still there—continuing to serve his congregation, host students from abroad, and send young people from his own community into the world for their own cross-cultural experiences. There is something deeply hopeful about that kind of faithfulness.

The photographs in this gallery come from those early years—before humanitarian work became a career, before photography became a serious pursuit, and before I had a full idea of where life would take me. Looking back now, I can see how formative these experiences were, even if I didn't fully recognize it at the time.