Leaving on a Jet Plane

I find myself sitting in the Salt Lake City Airport at 6:10 a.m. for a flight that leaves at 8:31 a.m. Why, you might ask? The travel agency my school booked with was very clear (red ink on my itinerary clear) that I was to be here three hours prior to departure. So 30 minutes after arriving, here I am, with nothing left to do but read (I'll be doing that for the next 19 hours, so no thanks) or think about my life thus far and the grand adventure I am about to embark upon. So I think.

After saying goodbye to my mother last night (and surrendering my phone, the horror!), I had a brief moment of panic, I'll admit. I've never traveled abroad without my mother. When we were being taken on the whirligig taxi ride of our lives in France, she was there; when men in Morocco were offering to buy me for elephants, she was there; when I was learning how to wrap a sari in India, she was there. For awhile after she left me, I wasn't quite sure what I was getting myself into or what to do without her.

But now I am on my own. The next time I write here, I will be in South Korea. I don't know whether or not I will like my school, the people I work with, my new city, or the people I meet abroad. I am leaping into the unknown and there is something thrilling about that and also very scary. But being scared is good for everyone once in awhile.

[Insert cheesy quote here . . . no wait, I found one!]
Without new experiences, something inside of us sleeps. The sleeper must awaken." -- Frank Herbert

 So now it's 6:20 a.m. Ten minutes down. Only 1,270 to go.