My countdown is now narrowed down to one of my hands. In five days, I'll board a plane and will not return to U.S. soil (save for one week of mandatory training) until the end of the summer. I will be living abroad...in another country...soaking up all the mangos and plantains I can get my grubby hands on.
It's exciting and intimidating. Leaving behind the solitude and comfort of my home and my dogs. Adjusting to a slower pace of life and system of rules. There's nowhere to run there. I have no place to hide when my life overwhelms me. My phone won't work there. Seven weeks is a long time to be away from everything familiar.
I remember the first night I traveled alone to another country. After making my way through the airport in Lima and checking in to my hotel, I sat on the bed and turned on the t.v. Of course, it was in Spanish. Every channel was in Spanish...even the programs I recognized. At the time, my conversational skills were much more severely limited than they are now, and I struggled dearly to listen in the language.
There, on that bed, it hit me. I was in another country. Another continent. Alone.
I sent a text to my dear Lawrence spilling all my thoughts about being alone and questions about what I was going to do. In his typical fashion he replied, "What? You just got there! Quit complaining and enjoy yourself." I did. I survived. I watched the sun set over the Pacific and the Andes. I saw ancient artifacts and one of the wonders of the world. I even wrote a story there while watching the Urubamba River.
I won't be alone on this trip. I'll be in the arms of my love and in the comfort of my new family. There will be traces of the familiar through school work to complete and our own routines we've established between us. Life will trudge forward at its own pace, and I'm learning that despite my experience with it, I'm not always comfortable with the unknowns.
But this is what is. I do love this period in my life.
Comments