I’m not much of a world-traveler–not yet, anyways. I’m working on it.
I’ve been to the friendly neighbor to the north (Canada), where ordering mashed potatoes at the local KFC is grounds for instantaneous foreigner identification (“You must be an American, ma’am. Only Americans order mashed potatoes.”). I’ve been lucky enough to spend a Spring Break in a village in El Salvador, amongst the survivors of the civil war. I’ve also managed to make my way to Guangzhou, China with my mother three summers ago, and I’ve been aching to go back ever since. Now, I finally have the opportunity.
This August, I’ll be flying overseas with a group of fellow college students for our study abroad program in Chengdu, China. The wait to hear whether or not I got accepted into the program was agonizing, as one by one friends who were accepted to other programs posted excited Facebook statuses months before I could. But now it’s actually happening, and it’s kind of terrifying. Oh, I’m excited to finally be able to start compiling packing lists, but China’s far from home. Literally. Figuratively. I’ll adjust, as I do, but I expect that after the exhilaration has ebbed confusion and homesickness will set in. I also expect that I’ll write blog posts about it. That’s what this is for, after all–communicating to the world about my experiences abroad. So.
Ready or not, I’m going to China.