Olivia Jordan

Christmas Among Wild Things: My Experience in Honduras

This past Christmas Day looked different from the ones I am used to. Instead of gathering around a table at my grandparents’ house, I found myself on a tour bus in Honduras, driving toward a small zoo known for its close encounters with animals. It was the rainy season, and the rain poured steadily from the sky. Everything felt unfamiliar, yet it did not seem to dampen anyone’s mood.

At the zoo, we were able to observe animals at close range without the usual barriers found in many larger zoos. Sloths clung quietly to tree branches, moving slowly and deliberately. Monkeys leaped with quick bursts of energy, curious and alert, jumping from the heads of one tourist to another, guided by local people the animals clearly trusted. For someone who grew up with dogs and has always loved animals, it felt magical. I was excited in a way that made me feel like a child again, wide eyed and completely present, quietly hoping to be chosen for one of those gentle monkey hugs.

There was something powerful about being so near to them. I could see the texture of their fur, the subtle movements of their hands, and the way their eyes followed us. It reminded me that animals are not decorations in nature. They are living beings with instincts, emotions, and needs of their own.

We were told that starting in 2025, tourists are no longer allowed to hold the animals because close contact can cause stress and anxiety. At first, I felt a small wave of disappointment. The idea of interacting more directly had seemed special. But the more I reflected on it, the more I understood.

Protecting their well being matters more than satisfying a moment of human excitement. Coexisting with animals does not mean controlling them or treating them as entertainment. It means respecting boundaries. It means recognizing that this planet is not ours alone. We share it with species that experience the world differently from us.

That realization began to connect to something larger for me. As I grow more interested in design and the built environment, I am starting to think about how human decisions shape the natural world. Buildings, roads, and cities do not exist separately from ecosystems. They occupy space that once belonged to something else. If we are careless, we displace. If we are thoughtful, perhaps we can coexist.

Christmas is often described as a season of peace and goodwill. Standing there among sloths and monkeys, listening to the steady rain, I began to think about what peace truly means. It is not only about harmony between people. It is also about harmony between humans and the natural world. It is about learning to live alongside one another with care and restraint.

In a world that often highlights differences, whether between cultures, beliefs, or species, perhaps coexistence begins with awareness. Awareness that every being occupies space with purpose. Awareness that our choices affect more than just ourselves.

That Christmas Day, far from home, surrounded by animals in the moist Honduran air, I was reminded of something simple yet profound. We are not separate from the world around us. We are part of it. And learning to live gently within it may be one of the most important lessons I carry forward.