You'll find out very quickly through this blog that I am something of a procrastinator. I was determined to write this first blog post weeks ago, detailing my feelings on leaving China for a full year, expressing my nervousness at teaching English at the university level in Pengshan, and documenting my excitement at returning once more to the country I have grown to love. Instead, it is 8 hours into the transpacific flight, and here I am--just beginning, and very sleep deprived and hungry. I hope, dear reader, that you will forgive me for any mistakes that are surely a direct result of my bleary head and unsatisfied stomach.
I'm sure there are a whole slew of metaphors for traveling. But for me, it is most like jumping from a great height. The weeks before you leave are like standing on the precipice, toeing the edge. This is a time for anxiety, excitement, and yes, for fear. You peer over the edge and waver. Are you really ready for this? Are you going to make the leap? You will, of course, but psyching yourself up is a battle nonetheless. As you jump, the peak of your arc is the plane ride over. You are no longer leaping upwards, but gravity has yet to take its hold on you and drag you downwards. You hover, caught in limbo. Like a plane ride, this moment can seem to last forever.
And then you are falling, falling down into another country. Sights and smells and places flash past you, too fast to process and overwhelms your senses as you struggle to orient yourself. This period of adjustment is always chaotic and nerve-wracking, a fast paced ride of pure adrenaline, and it is a thrill like no other. Very soon now, I will be thrust into the whirlwind that is China. Here's to hoping I land on my feet.
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