The dark night greeted us as we arrived. Sand blowing, waves crashing into the sea walls, and the seagulls chirping. The hot air rushed through our hair and the sound of Bahamian music came from the house where we were staying and completed the welcome. As I walked through the front door, a cool rush of air blasted me in the face from the nice air conditioning. I always saw the Bahamas through the lens of the travel channel: luxurious pink hotels and awesome beaches. But while I was there I saw a different side with people just trying to survive. To get to where we were staying, you had to go through the roughest conditions, unlike any I have seen before I had pictured big, fancy houses and resorts. But it was the complete opposite. The homes we passed were just cinder block, without doors and windows. Some weren’t even close to being finished. From the SUV, we could see inside the homes and it was nothing but dirt floors. Coming from a small town called Rockford, I think of a close-knit community in which people are always willing to help each other. I wasn’t left with that impression after driving through these small towns. Later that night we stopped in one store where the locals bought their food, it was more like a convenience store then a grocery store. It was called Friendly Bob’s and that name fit the owner perfectly. He was very friendly and outgoing. We learned that he lived across the street from his business in a shack you could call it. As we kept talking to him he told us that “not many people can have their own store in life.” But he told us that “ if you live your life how you want to live you will be able to fulfill many things.” Most of the people that met down there, crab hunt as their job, and for their food. They make little money at all doing this. This really made me ask my self and think of kids back in Rockford working minimum wage jobs, and wondering what would it be like if my parents worked a