There comes a point where repetition begins to take the excitement out of things. Your heart skips fewer beats, the butterflies seem contentedly anesthetized, and the frightening thought of the unknown has shrunk to somewhere below the thought of when you will see a bagel again on the scale of things that matter (to be fair, I do really like bagels). Part of me thinks that, having now sat down to a fresh blog template the night before a flight on several occasions, some of the glitter and gut-wrenching nausea might be starting to fade. Schlepping my now-worn backpack across an ocean seems more obnoxious than romantic, and the idea of crashing in hostels with scummy bathrooms seems a bit, well, last year. Can I really be this jaded at twenty-two? Some days maybe, but in general, I don't actually think so. I still maintain that the best gift I've gotten was luggage tags. They're not as bright orange as they used to be, but I think that's kind of the point.
So tomorrow I fly to Spain, by way of a hurricane. My ultimate destination is Periana, a tiny town in the province of Málaga in Andalucía, part of southern Spain. I'll be serving as an English Language and North American Cultural (...?) Assistant for eight months through the Spanish Government. The town is known for its peaches, its olive oil, and the fact that it only has 3,500 people. I don't actually know how to get to Periana from Málaga, but hopefully that will work itself out.
Like the ones before it, this blog is probably way more self-indulgent than necessary, but my parents, at least, like being able to keep tabs on me. Plus, I've been known to be quite clever when relating my travels. So take it for what you will. A note on my awesome blog title ("Teaching! In Axarquía"): I was having some trouble thinking of a good titular phrase, but luckily my new hiking guide to the Axarquía (the area Periana is in) came in the mail today. It's cleverly titled "Walk! The Axarquía." In my suitcase right now is a copy of Bruce Chatwin's book In Patagonia, one of the first travelogues written about Patagonia. Chronologically, I guess I'm a little late with my book choices, but I'm making up for it with my titular allusion. Jake's gotten me hooked on the word "titular," by the way. So, I've got a little field guide, a little glacier, and a little exclamation--all good things.
And as for the potential for jadedness, I have to admit that I've been butterfly-y all day, I'm already anticipating my more colorful passport excited to have an even more colorful passport, and, as my Grandma reminded me tonight, I'm about to jump off into yet another adventure. And I'm fairly terrified. On the other hand, it's southern Spain; I don't think I should be all that concerned.
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2 comments:
The town is known for its peaches, its olive oil, and the fact that it only has 3,500 people.
...not that much to be terrified about. Good Luck!
I highly approve your use of the verb "schlepping". Good luck!!
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