The Final Countdown

Time passes so fast I hardly even notice it’s real anymore. One moment my journey abroad seems to be a lifetime away from me and the next, I'm about to board the flight. I have officially reached that overly dramatized final countdown. The same one NASA uses for routined mutual understanding before sending astronauts beyond the horizon. The intensity of each number making its way down is identical to the butterflies in my stomach that I know will burst the moment marked "one."

I guess the hardest part of dealing with this feeling is that I know everything to expect. In 10 days my scenery will alter, new friends will be made, and my adventure will begin. As the butterflies try to fight their way up  my esophagus, my conscious reminds me that change is coming, but I cannot know for sure how it will play out. Everything is planned down to my flights, job, and housing. I've convinced myself that I know exactly what to anticipate, yet there is still no technical reality to claim that my trip will turn out a certain way.

Each day I run through all of the possible things I should bring with me abroad. It feels as though I have thought of every little item I would need. No matter how much I attempt to prepare myself, nerves send signals to my brain giving me the euphoria that there is still something missing. Something I won't remember until my feet have left U.S. soil. Part of the fun will be discovering what it is and what moment in time realization will hit me.

The most ironic part is that I have faced this fear countlessly leading up to my many travels to different continents. I've experienced the endorphins release when realizing that not knowing what to expect meant setting yourself up for surprise and wonder. Questions of whether I'm ready or made the right move after college, keep running through my mind. My fear has lost touch with the mentality that brought me to make this decision. The drive that will bring me to Colombia is very much uneven but worth the distance.

On top of my own questions I am filled with the fears of my friends and family who have voiced concern over my safety. Out of respect I have considered everything that has been said to me, refusing to force ignorance on myself out of confidence that I will return safe. But I also cannot forget the many good things I will encounter that will outweigh the bad. Beyond my overall goal of mastering the Spanish dialect, the enhancement of other skills will not go unnoticed.

My rutina diaria awaits me in Barranquilla. The eagerness to be a part of a different culture and give myself a sense of purpose again has become unseeingly noticeable. Days drag without the motive of having something to do in the morning or rather for the entire week. As much as I have appreciated having time off after four years of overachieving, I've noticed that I am clearly the kind of person that constantly needs to be busy. The lazy lifestyle is not a path meant for me to follow, but a rest stop along the journey from which I'll embark.

10 days of rest to spare until the trek starts up again.