Airports are almost always hectic—people coming and going at every hour of the day and night. And yet, after all the travel we’ve done, they somehow feel like home to us.

It was January, but there was no snow on the ground and no harsh bite of the cold air. That’s because I was in India, visiting a small village of no more than 300 people.

We’ve learned a lot about travel over the years — much of it, unfortunately, through our own mistakes. One such mistake took place a few years ago, right at the start of a six-month filming trip.

Huge, steep mountains rise all around. A cold wind drifts through the valley, creating a low, steady hum as it passes. In the distance, a man walks along a narrow path leading to a swinging bridge.

A man made his way slowly home from the market, walking along a narrow dirt road. Just as he rounded a bend, he heard it—a faint cry. A baby’s cry. Weak, but unmistakable.

What can I say about this incredible country? India was my first love. It’s a place of vibrant beauty, rich culture, and unforgettable people.

Perched on a hill above the city of Santa Elena in Belize’s Cayo District sits La Loma Luz Adventist Hospital—a name that means “The Light on the Hill.”

A purple glow shines through the cracks of the one-room hut. Reyna sits up and looks around the room. Her father—nowhere to be seen—has already been gone for hours, pulling in his fishing nets that were left out overnight.

He met her when he was only fifteen and she was fourteen. It was love at first sight. When Shah Jahan became emperor, he could not help but take Arjumand as his wife and queen.

We moved quietly, packing our overnight bags. Today was not just another journey—it was a step into a world shaped by decades of conflict.

“Oh, you’re back. How was your vacation?” This is something we hear a lot when we return from traveling overseas. Many people assume our work is like a fun vacation. However, this couldn’t be further from the truth.