I've been thinkin' about this life...

So as it turns out, I'm off to the worst start ever with keeping up with a blog. People warn me against this thing, and yet I'm no good at listening. Truth be told, there haven't really been a lot of updates about my trip, and simply writing about my summer in Montreat, while I'm sure interesting, isn't really pertinent. I guess there's a lot to be said for distraction since I haven't really concentrated on the trip (whether that be good or bad) this summer, and since I have just left Montreat today, I have been inundated and consumed by thoughts about the Philippines.

So I guess this will end up being more about the thoughts I've had today (which have been a lot).

First of all, if anyone reading this ever has to conduct an interview, please don't ask the question, "what do you think will be the most challenging aspect about [whatever you're interviewing about]?" Why? Because first of all it starts the interviewee into thoughts of what could possibly be frightening or scary about said endeavor, and since usually the mind is quite creative when it comes to fears, there are a lot of possible answers. Basically it has the potential to create paranoia. More importantly (and probably a little more honestly) its not a very well asked question. In the case of site placements, you never really know what to expect. I mean, I can't really remember what my actual answer was to that question when I was asked a few months ago. I have thought about it a lot (reference the paranoia conversation a few lines up), but going into a program that is supposed to be very culturally different, how can you really gauge any type of difficulty save for the cliche answers of how "different" things are going to be. Well obviously things will be different. But how? You can't really tell. Ok, I'm not really complaining. Instead I've just turned a set up for what I've found to be my current response to this question into a rant, which was not my intention, nor did I mean to come across that way.

It's just that in thinking about things, I realize that I am traveling from a place that is so close knit that I live, eat, play, and work all day, every day with the same people. Most of the people around me I know and can easily access should the urge strike to be with someone. I realize I've set up a very tough situation in that soon I will be around no one that I know. In fact the exact opposite scenario. I think this has been the most frightening though I've had thus far about my travels. Granted, it's basically answering the previous query in the very cliche manner that I was so against only moments ago, but so be it. Specificity can at least aid in getting away from cliche.

So the next thought I had is probably not going to make much sense, especially in the set up. For the sake of understanding, a brief story. I for some spontaneous and impulsive reason bought a beta fish this summer that I've been keeping in my apartment in a small fish bowl. To get "Conrad" (that's his name if you haven't guessed) home, I had to put him in the little plastic container I bought him in, and balance him on the front console. Well a few miles down the road he tipped over and spilled (well he didn't, I did) the water from the container into the console. So he basically had water in the container only slightly higher that than his "height". But I began to think about the physiology of most fish in that they have no long term memory and their short term memory is very brief (reference Memento or Fifty First Dates). So even though Conrad had hardly any room to swim around in, exploring this area seems new every time. He doesn't feel trapped or contained or anything like that. Now, not to in any way sound like I'm criticizing, but I think this is how most people are and how I most assuredly am. We think by traveling around from city to city or state to state, meeting new people, "experiencing new things" we are broadening our horizons. I think we all suffer from impaired long term memory. We forget that while, granted, everyone is different, we are really not experiencing much of a different world. Highways and interstates all over the United States aren't really that different, we just forget that they aren't. I guess I had this thought because as I drove home today, I went through a new state, and didn't really recognize it as such. But I had the thought, that quite soon, I will be in a place that can't possibly look familiar. The recognizable scenery, billboards, restaurants, gas stations, houses, churches, faces will all soon be strikingly different. I'm kicking myself now for not having taken the opportunity to go someone unrecognizable, legitimately unrecognizable, not just forgottenly, before.

And finally a little funny story about my trip home:

Driving from Montreat to Roanoke, you can choose two routes: go across North Carolina and up through Virginia, or scrape the side of Tennessee. If you ever have to drive between the two, chose Tennessee. Staying in the Blue Ridge Mountains is the smartest choice you can make. However, you may want to chose to know how to take the route before you go. I had a good idea (26 to 81), but since I've only traveled it once, I was a little worried about finding the right exits. So MULTIPLE times (and that's what makes this humorous to me) I stopped in gas stations to make sure I was going the right way. Every time I stopped it was because I was worried I had headed in the wrong direction or missed a turn. EVERY time I did this, I would soon discover that, not only was I heading in the right direction, but had I just waited a half a mile more, I would have seen that for myself. (For example: "Can you tell me how to get to 81?" "Just get back on the interstate and go one more exit) What struck me about that was its pertinence to my life right now. I'm wondering if I'm taking the right path at the right time. I always think in dichotomies, two choices, and absolutes, one answer. Its gotten me into trouble. Should I strike some unforeseen trouble (i.e. not recognizing the road I'm on) I immediately make the assumption that I've chosen the wrong path. The lesson, cheesy and not too spectacular, from my road trip today is one of patience and faith. Had I just waited a mile more, I would have seen that I was exactly where I needed to be. We always want justification in our choices, something to tell us we're doing the right thing. We're not always going to get that however. I especially, need to learn to step back for a moment and concentrate on the destination, not some verification or sign that I'm in the right spot every second of the trip.

So I'm done being off topic. I tend to ramble when I'm exhausted and some vessel of communication is in front of me. I apologize.

So to be brief in where I am right now: Two weeks until Chicago and eight days after that I will be flying from Chicago to LA to Hong Kong to Manila. I've gotten all my shots, my passport, my forms, and my first installment of $2500 raised. I have not, however, packed or done much planning on the part. I also have not received my specific job and site placement, but the second that I do, I will inform this blog and I guess you as well.

Peace, I hope