The Women Who Grew With Us

They Arrived Young

It is difficult to explain forty years simply by counting them. Photographs do it much better. Look at an old photograph of Pentagrama and you see young faces—people beginning careers, with no idea what their lives would look like fifteen, twenty or thirty years later.

Some of the women who today speak confidently with travelers from around the world arrived at Pentagrama when they were remarkably young. They learned destinations, how to design itineraries and how to solve the unexpected problems that inevitably appear when people travel. They became professionals.

But while all of that was happening, they were also becoming the women they are today. Maria is perhaps one of the clearest ways for me to measure the passage of time. I remember her as a young woman building her career with us.

Then Life Began to Happen

Today, her son Diego is 33. A child who once belonged to conversations about motherhood has become an adult. And Maria's story was followed by others. Viviana dreamed for years of becoming a mother. Life did not follow the path she originally imagined. There were difficult periods, changes and a new beginning. Then, around forty, motherhood finally arrived. Twice. Today she has two beautiful children.

Tatiana was our tireless traveler. Alone or accompanied, she seemed always ready to discover another country. Traveling was—and remains—part of who she is.

Then, in her thirties, another kind of adventure arrived: a boy and a girl. We affectionately call them “los chinitos,” the children of our own “Chinita,” Tatiana Chiok. Johana once imagined that two children would probably be enough. She now has four. Vanessa has three. MariRose has her small and only daughter. Different women. Different stories. Different ways of becoming mothers. But all of them unfolding, at least partly, while their professional lives were unfolding at Pentagrama too. Careers were growing. Families were too.

Before the Babies Came, There Were Baby Showers

Motherhood often arrived at Pentagrama long before the baby did. First came the news. Then the growing belly everyone watched week by week. And eventually, the baby shower.

Over the years, we have celebrated many of them together. Around a future mother—sometimes visibly wondering just how much larger that belly could possibly become—we gathered for photographs, gifts, food, laughter and predictions about the baby who was about to enter her life. Those photographs are particularly special today. Because we know what happened next.

The belly became a baby. The baby acquired a name everyone at Pentagrama knew. Photographs began arriving. Then came birthdays, first days at school, stories about teachers, illnesses and the funny things children say. And eventually, those babies weren't babies anymore. Looking at the old baby-shower photographs now, I realize that we weren't celebrating only the arrival of another child. Each new baby was quietly making Familia Pentagrama a little bigger.

Between Itineraries and Motherhood

When people work together for many years, conversations inevitably escape the boundaries of work. Of course, we have talked endlessly about Machu Picchu, hotels, flights, clients, itineraries and travelers arriving tomorrow morning. But between those conversations there have been others: pregnancies, children, schools, sleepless nights, worries, celebrations and the thousand questions that come with being a mother.

Sometimes advice was requested. Sometimes someone simply needed to talk. There have been confidences that had nothing to do with tourism and difficult moments when a colleague needed something more important than help with an itinerary. And there have been countless small joys—a photograph, a first step, a birthday, a school achievement, a story proudly told the following morning.

Perhaps that is inevitable when people stay together long enough. You stop knowing only the person who sits at the desk beside you. You begin knowing something about the life she returns to when she leaves it.

Somewhere Along the Way, We Became “Familia Pentagrama”

I can't remember exactly when we first started saying it. There was no announcement, no meeting and nobody suggested it as a corporate slogan. We simply began referring to ourselves as Familia Pentagrama. And the name stayed. Today, even the chat we share carries that name. Perhaps that is the best evidence that nobody invented the expression for marketing.

We use it among ourselves because, after years of birthdays, marriages, babies, worries, difficult days, celebrations, confidences, laughter and children growing up around us, “team” no longer seemed to describe everything that connected us. Of course, we remain a company. There are responsibilities, deadlines, clients and problems that need to be solved. There are days when everyone is busy and nobody has time for a long conversation. But beneath all of that is something accumulated slowly over many years: trust, shared history and affection. “Familia Pentagrama” wasn't really a name we chose. It was a name we eventually realized described us.

When Familia Pentagrama Moves to the Pool

The children take over the swimming pool. Mothers talk and laugh while keeping one eye on the water. Food appears. Someone is always wet who wasn't planning to be. And for a few hours, it becomes difficult to know where the company ends and the family begins. For me, those gatherings contain something especially meaningful.

I look around the pool and realize that some of those children existed in our conversations long before they learned to swim. We celebrated when their mothers told us they were expecting them. We saw photographs when they were born. We heard about their first days at school. And suddenly there they are, splashing one another in the pool. The children didn't simply become part of our gatherings. I think they changed the company too. Every new baby gave us another reason to celebrate. Every birthday created another shared memory. And the children formed connections between us that had nothing to do with organizational charts, positions or years of service.

Perhaps the children are the clearest explanation of what Familia Pentagrama really means.

For a few hours, it becomes difficult to know where the company ends and the family begins.

The Children Grew Up Too

There is something slightly surprising about watching children grow when they are not your own. You don't notice it every day. Then suddenly you look at an old photograph and realize that the small child you remember is now at university, working or making decisions about an adult life.

My own grandchildren remind me of this constantly. Two are already professionals—a musician and an architect. Two are university students. Two are still young enough to be in primary school. They represent several stages of life at the same time. And perhaps because Maria and I are among the older ones in the group, we sometimes find ourselves playing a slightly different role. We have accumulated a few more experiences, a few more mistakes and perhaps occasionally a useful piece of advice.

We listen. We encourage. Sometimes we simply remind someone that difficult moments eventually pass. But the relationship works in both directions. Being surrounded by younger people, their children and their changing lives has also kept us connected to generations different from our own. Familia Pentagrama has grown older together without ever becoming only one generation. The babies became children. And, almost before we noticed, some of the children became adults.

What Our Travelers Don't See

A traveler speaking with one of our advisors today sees an experienced travel professional. And that is exactly what she is. But experience isn't measured only by years spent designing itineraries.

Life teaches things too. It teaches patience. Listening. Understanding that every family is different. That plans change. That people worry about their children—and later, about their parents. It teaches that an eighty-year-old traveler may need something completely different from a thirty-year-old. That grandparents traveling with grandchildren have different rhythms. That a honeymoon is not simply another itinerary for two people.

And that sometimes what a traveler needs most is not another hotel recommendation, but someone who listens carefully enough to understand what kind of journey they really want. The women our clients speak with today bring years of professional experience to those conversations. But they also bring something that cannot be taught in a tourism manual: the lives they have lived.

And Now, Another Baby

As I write this story, the tradition continues. Mesi is waiting for her first baby. A boy. He should arrive any day now. Watching her reminds me of all those photographs from years ago: another growing belly, another future mother surrounded by colleagues who already want to know when the baby will arrive.

We know what happens next. Soon there will be a photograph in our Familia Pentagrama chat. Everyone will celebrate. There will be a name to learn, eventually a birthday, then another. And perhaps, a few years from now, another child running around our house and jumping into the pool with all the others. Forty years after young women first began arriving at Pentagrama looking for an opportunity to build their careers, the story continues.

They became experienced travel professionals. They became mothers. Their children grew. And Pentagrama grew with them. Somewhere during those years, without really deciding to, we began calling ourselves Familia Pentagrama. Today, when I look back, I understand why. We didn't only build a company together. We shared our lives while building it. That is Familia Pentagrama. And the story continues.