Waking up on Saturday, January 3rd, I was still sun-kissed and exhausted from two weeks of scuba diving around Kralendijk, Bonaire. I had come down from Christmas break and spent days descending among coral walls, swimming with sea turtles, and rinsing the salt water off gear in the evenings.
That morning, I rolled out of my bed and opened my United app to get ready for my flight home. I reviewed my flights and the moment I clicked complete payment for my checked bag, the app glitched.
Reopening it was the start of the chaos I didn’t know was unfolding.
In the app, the top of my flight read “canceled” in red. A moment of panic hit. I was supposed to board this plane in an hour. My first reaction was to rebook as soon as possible, but when trying to book any future flight, there were no flights available. A slight surge of anxiety and anger rushed over me, fearing that I wouldn’t ever be getting home and quite frankly angered at my own country.
That’s when my uncle came to inform me the news was blowing up.‘
“Nicolas Maduro captured, several flights canceled.”
“U.S. Strikes in Venezuela prompt airspace closure and travel warning.”
It felt like watching the Olympics live, my aunt and uncle going from headline to headline, trying to make sense of what was happening. The Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) had issued an emergency Notice to Airmen (NOTAM), effectively shutting down the Venezuelan airspace and San Juan Flight Information Region (FIR), which covers the Caribbean, U.S. territories, and parts of the Netherlands.
Being only 50 miles from Venezuela, it made sense. By midday, more than 500 flights across the Caribbean had been wiped from the boards, with airports like San Juan losing 60% of their schedules and the ABC Islands—Aruba, Bonaire, and Curaçao—hit just as hard, alongside European carriers like KLM. United Airlines alone canceled 400 flights and American Airlines, Delta, JetBlue, and Spirit faced similar disruptions. Apps crashed after half a second, websites stalled endlessly, leaving travelers with no way to rebook or even get basic information.
The only way of contact to airlines was by phone, so United customer service and I got very acquainted – too acquainted. I was on hold for hours on end, then spoke to an agent for half a minute before being redirected to a hold that lasted just as long. Calls were constantly dropping due to so many people trying to get a new flight. The frustration was relentless, one small step forward, ten giant steps back. I felt trapped in a cycle of false hope. I could practically recite the hold music by the time I got a hold of someone who could rebook me. I was exhausted, mentally drained from the uncertainty, the waiting, and the feeling that everything was completely out of my control.
It’s estimated that thousands of travelers were stranded alongside me. News coverage ranged from an ABC News Anchor stuck in Vieques with her family, to hotel costs tripling in price during shutdown. The sudden closure turned trips into logistical nightmares, as people like me scrambled for information that simply wasn’t there.
Brooklyn Howie, another student at Big Sky High School and one of my Sun Journal classmates, shared a similar experience when she traveled to Hawaii with her family. While I was stranded in Bonaire, our moms were texting, trading screenshots of canceled flights, new departures, and airline emails that offered little clarity. Even though we were thousands of miles apart, the confusion felt identical.They were already dealing with aircraft issues when they got de-planed and their flight was rebooked for days later. Being stranded at 2 am without luggage and redirected pointlessly by airlines was scary. As I sat on hold with United for hours, Brooklyn described the same lack of communication and support. Brooklyn said, “I do not recommend flying United,” after her experience with their poor compensation.
I was in the same boat, as we were getting nowhere with the airline. Fortunately for me, my aunt lives on the island, so I had a place to stay at no cost. Others weren’t so lucky. The average cost of hotels in Bonaire is $176, this on top of food, hygienic needs, things to do, costs travelers far more than expected. For San Juan, 48,000 passengers were affected, leaving thousands of tourists on the islands.
This extension of foreigners didn’t sit well with locals. Titi Martis, a Bonairan neighbor of my aunt, said, “The Americans are raiding the stores, there’s nothing fresh left. It leaves us with a lot less resources when we already struggle with high quality foods. It’s ridiculous.” She wasn’t alone, as Suus, a local business owner, said in reference to the Americans and tourists, “They need to realize people live off this island, stores aren’t just for their panic buys. It’s like when they took all the toilet paper during COVID-19, why do it? Is it really necessary, absolutely not.” Given that restocking only came once a week, the grocery stores looked barren. This overnight frenzy caused panic and had drastically impacted the everyday function of the island.
Light at the end of the tunnel came around Tuesday, four days later, when we were finally able to get in contact with United. I was able to get the next available flight to the states on January 10th around 3pm. While it was still days away, there was so much relief and gratitude knowing I had a seat on a plane. My vacation, meant for pure relaxation and fun, turned to a mission solely on getting home. The constant unknowing was scary, I constantly had questions and no power to control what was happening. A week’s extension of concern all because of one action taken by President Donald J. Trump. It was odd to realize how quickly a political action would ripple into the personal lives of so many people. There’s fragility in the systems we rely on and take for granted. The trip forced me to really think about traveling, which normally felt exciting and free to me but I’ve become worrisome and far more aware after this experience. It’s not guaranteed, it’s regulated, it’s conditional and is vulnerable to political agendas.
More than anything, it made me think about how exposed people can feel when the security is gone and how the fast-moving modern world can just…stop.
