I've all my things packed, with the exception of my carry-on and laptop.
My ticket hasn't arrived yet, and to say the least we're in a bit of a tizzy being as I'm supposed to leave at 5:35pm today. So...yeah.
I'm getting on the plane though, if I have to blast my way on it with a sawed-off shot-gun.
Time to call UPS and give them the what for.
I depart today.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Looking into the Eyes of the Untraveled
As this journal is supposed to record my thoughts and experiences regarding this journey abroad, I felt it best to jot down a sentiment relating to this while I'm still state-side.
In recent days, running around to various places and in passing informing people of my journey soon to be, there's something I've noticed about people that really gets to me. The best example of this would be the cashier, and presumably owner, of the gas station in my sub-community. She knows my face and we'll talk about how I'm doing in college and so forth whenever I fuel up. But when I mentioned my immanent departure, her face took on characterization which was an unsettling mixture of admiration, sorrow, want and a little bit of contempt.
It's just...really kinda heart breaking, the look they give me.
Like I'm stealing their son away to marry him, to elope. Like I'd breeched some private bitterment of the past, not to be mentioned.
The main colour of their face is a far off sort of sadness, I can see them biting back some measure of words, the marginal nod, a half forced smile, the sort of dark, withdrawn quality in their eyes as they gaze at me intently- the light glinting off their pupils. I won't draw any concrete conclusions as to why they look at me this way, except that perhaps they have not been able to travel themselves and that their age they doubt they will. This look is predominantly in older women, far my senior, but not seniors per say. 50-60s, I would say, and most of them women I wouldn't necessarily call friends or individuals that would miss me.
It differs far and wide from the reaction and look I've received from my peers, both traveled and untraveled. A friend of mine, I've no clue if he's ever traveled, but he was ecstatic for my trip and inquired with joy and verve of my plans, and requested that I keep record of my travels for my own benefit and that he and others might read of my travels. So have many others like him, most of my intimate friends have been highly enthusiastic, not without a chaser of sadness that I will be gone, but on the whole happy. Oddly, my parents enthusiasm has also started taking on the same quality as the women I've spoken to about my trip, but only recently.
It's odd, and startling, and strange. I, again, can't discern what the cause of the sorrowful looks are, but it's awkward and makes me want to vacate whatever locale as soon as possible.
That's all really. I should be off for a root canal soon, and then hopefully dinner and a movie with friends.
I depart in two days.
In recent days, running around to various places and in passing informing people of my journey soon to be, there's something I've noticed about people that really gets to me. The best example of this would be the cashier, and presumably owner, of the gas station in my sub-community. She knows my face and we'll talk about how I'm doing in college and so forth whenever I fuel up. But when I mentioned my immanent departure, her face took on characterization which was an unsettling mixture of admiration, sorrow, want and a little bit of contempt.
It's just...really kinda heart breaking, the look they give me.
Like I'm stealing their son away to marry him, to elope. Like I'd breeched some private bitterment of the past, not to be mentioned.
The main colour of their face is a far off sort of sadness, I can see them biting back some measure of words, the marginal nod, a half forced smile, the sort of dark, withdrawn quality in their eyes as they gaze at me intently- the light glinting off their pupils. I won't draw any concrete conclusions as to why they look at me this way, except that perhaps they have not been able to travel themselves and that their age they doubt they will. This look is predominantly in older women, far my senior, but not seniors per say. 50-60s, I would say, and most of them women I wouldn't necessarily call friends or individuals that would miss me.
It differs far and wide from the reaction and look I've received from my peers, both traveled and untraveled. A friend of mine, I've no clue if he's ever traveled, but he was ecstatic for my trip and inquired with joy and verve of my plans, and requested that I keep record of my travels for my own benefit and that he and others might read of my travels. So have many others like him, most of my intimate friends have been highly enthusiastic, not without a chaser of sadness that I will be gone, but on the whole happy. Oddly, my parents enthusiasm has also started taking on the same quality as the women I've spoken to about my trip, but only recently.
It's odd, and startling, and strange. I, again, can't discern what the cause of the sorrowful looks are, but it's awkward and makes me want to vacate whatever locale as soon as possible.
That's all really. I should be off for a root canal soon, and then hopefully dinner and a movie with friends.
I depart in two days.
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