Over the past month, I must have read close to thirty blogs of past SAS students. I feel like I've tasted the exotic food myself, walked dusty path in cacophonous cities with my own feet, had these remarkable experiences. But I haven't, not yet. These adventures will not be my adventures. Whatever I do in each of the twelve countries will be my own, precious because of that.
As the final countdown begins, I keep reminding myself of that.
The final preparations are coming together. Today my uncle and I ran around the sun-soaked consumer sprawl that is Huntington Beach, printing off extra visa photos, finding bugspray with enough DEET to keep African mosquitoes at bay, and collecting $100 in ones. The lady at the (rather intimidating) bank had to go into vault and found me my own little wrapped stack of crisp dollar bills. Just like the kind that are stuffed into black duffel bags in the movies.
I'm packing in manageable stages, sliding Shakespeare textbooks between clothes and bags of granola bars. I'm slightly concerned about fitting everything into my backpack and duffel bag. But there's not really an option now. It's either fitting or I need to have a sudden revelation that I actually don't need it.
We're leaving for San Diego on Thursday morning. We're attending TED x Semester at Sea that afternoon, organized as part of Semester at Sea's 50th Anniversary.
I don't feel like it's real. Not yet.
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