Preparation

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As of today, I'll be flying out of the country in four short days. For the longest time, I told myself that I had no interest in travelling outside the U.S. I said things like: "there's too much I haven't seen in the country to justify leaving it yet", or "travel just isn't something I care about", etc. For a while, I really felt that way. I was very caught up in what I was doing in school or working on creatively to spend too much time thinking about what else was out there. But as I got closer and closer to graduation, I realized that the opportunities to see the world were going to become increasingly rare from here on out, once I started working or had a family, or whatever else gets in the way of your freedom. So after I heard about this Prague Summer Program, I thought for a while about it, and decided that if there was any part of me, however small, that wanted to go somewhere completely new and experience something I never had before, I wouldn't ever get a better chance.

So I took it. I admitted to myself that my apprehension towards travelling was largely based on fear; fear of the unknown, fear of discovering something about myself, fear of change and disappointment. The strongest of these fears, which may surprise you, is the self-discovery. I think this is a more powerful fear than most people really consider. We are programmed to say that we want to "discover" ourselves, but I think deep down, people are afraid to realize that who they truly are is different from who they thought they were. I was afraid that maybe I'd realize that I wasn't such a homebody after all. That maybe I had a thirst for something that I had never got to experience before.

It reminds me of a great bit from Louis C.K., actually, which somehow got lodged so deep in my memory that I forgot it ever existed until I started writing this. He's talking about going to Chinatown and going into and authentic Chinese grocery store, and seeing a barrel full of duck vaginas for sale, with a scoop stuck in it. After he ponders if it's possible to any more fully dominate another species than by selling their vaginas by the barrel, he says:

"I didn't get any because I don't want to know - what if I love duck vaginas? I don't want to find out. It's not like millions of things taste like a fuckin' duck vagina. It'd be very specific to be addicted to that. Not for me."

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What if I suffered the same fate? What if I tried something I had never had any intention of loving, and then enjoyed it so much that I could never go back? What if I could never return to an existence before I loved duck vaginas? I would have to change my whole life, and goddamn if that isn't an uncomfortable process, even if you're changing it for the better. But I guess I decided to take a leap of faith. I would taste the forbidden duck vagina, and travel abroad to engage not just with travelling to another country, but also to immerse myself in something I've always been nervous to pursue, which is my art. I've always held my creative side and my "logical" side, the side that needs every decision to be wrought with practicality, in relative balance. In college, I majored in business, and minored in English. I figured the minor would let me vent my creativity while I worked towards something that would probably grant me a more stable career. Of course, I only fell more in love with writing and ever less in love with business. And now, here I am, about to embark on a fifteen hour flight to another country, and I don't know how I'm going to change as a result of it. Will I even change at all? Maybe I'll realize I really do hate travelling. Maybe I'll realize I was born to trot the globe. Maybe I'll find out I love duck vaginas.

I'll keep you posted.