The World Ahead

All of my favourite books are about Adventure.

"To die would be an awfully big adventure."

 "Let us step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure." 

"'No, no! The adventures first,' said the Gryphon in an impatient tone: 'explanations take such a dreadful time.'" 

"I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging."

Adventures are exciting -- that's why they make such excellent stories! But now, as I find myself on the brink of my own adventure, I find myself feeling more akin to Bilbo Baggins than to Peter Pan. I leave tomorrow at precisely 1:02 in the afternoon, and already my stomach is twisting into knots. I've lost count how many times in the past several hours I've second guessed myself, wondering if I've gotten myself in too deep. Why did I choose a program that is known to be more difficult? Why did I choose a country where people say it will take up to a month to properly understand what people are saying? What if people stare at me? What if I forget all of the Spanish I ever knew as soon as I arrive? What if I get lost? What if I miss my flight? What if I can't get credit for my classes? What if I fail? What if I'm too shy? What if I don't have what it takes? 

In my head, I know I'm being silly. I know I'm going to have a wonderful time, and it will probably be one of the greatest decisions I've ever made -- I've heard so many stories about how wonderful study abroad is, and I have no doubt that I will have a wonderful time. But just now, on the brink of leaving, I can't help but fret about all kinds of things that I can't change. It's in my nature -- I worry a lot, especially about the kinds of things that I can't change.

It's also hard to say goodbye. I hate goodbyes. I avoid even saying goodbye -- I'll say "see you later," "talk to you later," "goodnight!", anything to avoid saying goodbye, because there is just something so final about goodbye. If I tell everyone "I'll talk with you soon," I can pretend that it really will be as easy as a quick phone call. In Chile, I won't be able to conveniently talk with my friends and family at home, and that's hard to come to terms with. I'm just going to hold onto the hope that some of them check their emails as obsessively as I do (I may or may not have my email pulled up in another tab right now).

When all is said and done, though, I know I'll be all right. I'm going to Chile! Seriously, how cool is that? My bags are all packed -- I run no risk of leaving the house without my pocket handkerchief (or whatever the equivalent of that would be -- pocket tissues?) It's time to tuck The Hobbit into my back pocket and face south.

In a house in the south, there lived a girl...