Somewhere over the Atlantic
My last week in Canada has come and gone … I got my Indian Visa (after some completely unnecessary difficulty), tied up some lose ends in Kingston, and wished the Sens good luck in the upcoming season. In terms of my preparation, I could not be more set for my excursion. However, with that being said, I have yet to properly acquaint myself with the Hindi language … a relatively major setback; although, one in which all my fellow program participants will suffer through as well. I have about 36 hours of flight and stop-over time: enough to be able to fake it by the time I arrive … hopefully.
Earlier this morning, even as I meticulously arranged my travel necessities throughout my luggage, I was still utterly unconscious of the situation before me. Even countless descriptions, explanations, and qualifications of my departure to both friends and family have not properly solidified my mind’s awareness. The preparation, although new, was horribly perfunctory, which probably contributed to my lack of acceptance. Yet, the more probable explanation is that I have minimal experience with traveling of this kind … what I would define as “spontaneous.” Sure, I have taken numerous road trips which lack a specific purpose, destination, schedule or some mix of the three; however, the voyage for which I am about to depart dwarfs those excursions in magnitude and scope. So without a lucid idea of the opportunities and challenges ahead, perhaps my mind is using the ancient technique of “if you don’t think about it, it’s not really there” for my own self defense. So as I have endeavoured to kept an even temperament, my mother has experienced trepidation (with regards to my safety, my health, and/or dismembering plane crashes) and my father has experienced excitement (with regards to my departure and subsequent authoritarian rule over the TV) … which furtively I hope is not too strong, but then again how many parents send their children off by including the words “but not too soon.”
Regardless of my realization or lack thereof, I am on a plane and it is heading across the Atlantic. The time for reconsideration is long past. Nothing left, but to finally accept the inevitable: I’m going to India baby!
My last week in Canada has come and gone … I got my Indian Visa (after some completely unnecessary difficulty), tied up some lose ends in Kingston, and wished the Sens good luck in the upcoming season. In terms of my preparation, I could not be more set for my excursion. However, with that being said, I have yet to properly acquaint myself with the Hindi language … a relatively major setback; although, one in which all my fellow program participants will suffer through as well. I have about 36 hours of flight and stop-over time: enough to be able to fake it by the time I arrive … hopefully.
Earlier this morning, even as I meticulously arranged my travel necessities throughout my luggage, I was still utterly unconscious of the situation before me. Even countless descriptions, explanations, and qualifications of my departure to both friends and family have not properly solidified my mind’s awareness. The preparation, although new, was horribly perfunctory, which probably contributed to my lack of acceptance. Yet, the more probable explanation is that I have minimal experience with traveling of this kind … what I would define as “spontaneous.” Sure, I have taken numerous road trips which lack a specific purpose, destination, schedule or some mix of the three; however, the voyage for which I am about to depart dwarfs those excursions in magnitude and scope. So without a lucid idea of the opportunities and challenges ahead, perhaps my mind is using the ancient technique of “if you don’t think about it, it’s not really there” for my own self defense. So as I have endeavoured to kept an even temperament, my mother has experienced trepidation (with regards to my safety, my health, and/or dismembering plane crashes) and my father has experienced excitement (with regards to my departure and subsequent authoritarian rule over the TV) … which furtively I hope is not too strong, but then again how many parents send their children off by including the words “but not too soon.”
Regardless of my realization or lack thereof, I am on a plane and it is heading across the Atlantic. The time for reconsideration is long past. Nothing left, but to finally accept the inevitable: I’m going to India baby!
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