In this memoir, the author—a professional photographer, filmmaker, and writer—plays with the familiar trope of a physical journey catalyzing an interior one: “As my depression deepened, my boyfriend, Rohan, and his best friend from middle school, Samir, put forth a proposal: Venezuela for Christmas,” she recalls. What began as an escape from a life of “applying for jobs, entering contests, waiting for replies, and between those tasks, writing” in Los Angeles appears, in hindsight, to have been an opportunity for renewal. Recounting that pilgrimage years later gives the author an opportunity to reflect on how she’s grown from the person she was in her 20s to who she is now at 39. Saraiya’s self-awareness is one of the book’s strengths; for example, she recognizes that her younger self “moved through [Venezuela’s] landscapes with the eyes of a tourist, mistaking proximity for connection.” Her willingness to admit past errors is an appealing sign of humility in these pages. Even her interest in “explor[ing] indigenous lifeways and wisdom” is qualified with the caveat that her account may have factual inaccuracies because she did not consult community members directly. Her openness to discovery, though, is evident in the lush descriptions that evoke all the senses. She revels in the sight of a beach shimmering “with crushed rose quartz” and partakes of the sweet and salty taste of the ripe moriche fruit. She draws attention to “the sweet fragrance of wildflowers,” the roaring sound of a waterfall that “became a muffled hum,” and the sting of the cold on her skin. The narrative also sheds light on the practical realities of travel, especially dietary challenges for vegetarians and safety concerns for women. Overall, readers will find it inspiring to witness how she took challenges in stride, believing that they’d make her stronger. What emerges is less a portrait of Venezuela than it one of a person learning about herself, shedding her old ways, and celebrating who she is today.
