India to Americas: One Passport, Six Countries, and a Suitcase That Got Progressively Smellier

This wasn’t just a trip. It was a full-blown odyssey—minus the Greek gods but plus a few volcanoes, jungle hikes, and several suspicious street snacks that flirted dangerously with our digestive system. Easily the most outdoorsy trip we have ever done...Clearly our kids are growing up; it was our first long trip without our eldest Aniketh (missed you dude)!! This also got me to country 85 from 80...yeehaaw!

How can we not pose?

If you are keen to do a day to day review, here is a link with maps... https://www.polarsteps.com/ramchabi/17757878-central-america

Let’s start in Honduras where this epic journey truly began—with dear friends who welcomed us and joined us and made every twist and turn more joyful, every mishap more memorable, and every detour feel intentional. (isn't it great to have friends everywhere). We trekked, went rafting and there was lots of banter. After chilling for 3 days in La Ceiba (Starting with a rest, wow), we kicked things off like a responsible culture vulture at Copán Ruinas—ancient Mayan ruins that made me wonder why our modern buildings can’t survive rain without developing leaks, while these temples are still standing after a thousand years and at least three empires. The people were kind, the pace was chill, and for the first time in a long time, we genuinely forgot what day it was—and didn’t panic.

Phase 1: Honduras, Guatemala & El Salvador

Then came Guatemala, which felt like someone poured all of Instagram’s saturation filters into one country. Antigua had cobblestone streets designed by a sadist with a wheel fetish, while Lake Atitlán whispered, “Why not just move here and sell handwoven scarves?” We briefly considered it. And ofcourse we had Ron Zacapa, Guatemala’s love letter to rum and regret. It’s smooth, smoky, and guaranteed to make you think you understand Spanish perfectly.

El Salvador was like a cool underdog in a band—quietly confident and surprisingly edgy. Beaches? Check. Volcanoes? Yup. Pupusas? Oh yes. We fell in love with these stuffed, griddled bundles of joy, even if we are still not entirely sure what was inside one of them. The highlight? A volcano that might erupt at any moment—and people still hiked up to toast marshmallows on it. Because, why not?

Now, let’s talk reputation. Everyone who heard we were going to El Salvador looked at us like we’d just announced we were planning to swim with sharks wearing bacon suits. “It’s dangerous,” they warned. “With kids? Are you sure?". Well, here’s the kicker: we strolled through the city center at 10:30PM—with two kids in tow—and felt safer than trying to find parking at Costco on a Saturday. The streets were lively, people were friendly, and the only thing we were in danger of was eating one pupusa too many.

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Then we hopped over to Panama, where the capital city looked like Miami and behaved like New York with a tan. We saw the canal—which somehow convinced the Atlantic and Pacific to cooperate (an achievement worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize). We regularly visited Casco Viejo, which translated to “Old Quarter” but felt more like “Hipster Central with a colonial facelift.” And yes, we drank overpriced coffee from a cup that looked like it had been stolen from a 1970s camping set.

Phase 2: Panama & Costa Rica

Costa Rica was next, and I now understand why people go there and forget to leave. Pura vida, they say—which I initially thought was a smoothie but turns out to be a national lifestyle; people don't say hello here..Pura Vida it is!! We zip-lined over rainforests, saw sloths (real ones, not my teenage nephews), chilled in the beaches, played golf, dipped in hot springs, and realized that wearing hiking boots with a swimsuit is, in fact, a fashion statement here. The locals were warm, proud, and didn’t once judge us for looking like lost extras from a NatGeo documentary.

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Finally, the USA—a.k.a. the land of portion sizes, air-conditioning that could chill a walrus, and toilets that don’t require engineering degrees to flush. After weeks of adventure, stepping into America felt like checking into a luxury rehab for overstimulated travelers. We ate vegetables that hadn’t been deep-fried in mystery oil, used bathrooms with actual toilet seats and paper (what sorcery!), and breathed in air that wasn’t 60% mosquito ambition.

Orlando rolled out the red carpet of chaos—theme parks, golf courses, and enough retail therapy to qualify as cardio. I wore my golf shoes more than my flip-flops, proving once and for all that I’m more committed to chasing birdies than beach tans.

Phase 3: USA

But the real highlight? Family time. We spent golden hours with both my brother and Lakshmi’s brother and their delightful crews—filled with stories, meals, and just the right amount of sibling rivalry to keep things interesting - like who mom really loves more. Spoiler: it’s obviously my wife and I!

And then came New Hampshire, our grand finale. A place where time slows down, trees outnumber people, and our gracious hosts made us feel like royalty—but without the paparazzi or press scandals. It was the perfect bow on a trip wrapped in laughter, adventure, and just the right amount of altitude sickness.

In summary:

We came, We saw, We mispronounced things. (Sorry Julius Caesar)

We carried the same backpack and suitcase through 6 countries, made friends with strangers, exchanged pleasantries with border agents (oh yeah!), and learned the true joy of a good Wi-Fi signal. Central America taught me patience, humility, and how to say “Where’s the bathroom?” in five accents.

Would we do it again?

Oh yes. But maybe next time with fewer treks (here here say my daughter and wife) and more air conditioning.

So here we are —passports frayed, memory cards full, legs and back slightly sore, but heart completely full. If Central America was a thrilling roller coaster, the USA was that gentle last carousel ride that lets you wave at everyone and say, “Yep, we really did all that.”