Leaving

I apologize for the patch work first blog. It is a conglomeration of my last week of work, the week before departure, and sitting on the plane. The last parts were written through pure exhaustion and excitement, both mentally and physically.

To my friends, family, and passersby, happy reading.

 

And so the great adventure begins. This very exciting new beginning did not come without many tears, fear, and hugs. I can’t lie; this past week and a half I’ve been in nothing more than a daze when it has come to this move. The perfect word to describe this feeling is surreal. As I told most of my friends and folks who asked, I don’t think I’ll realize that I’ve moved until a few weeks from now. I doubt it will hit when I get sick or even when I move into my own apartment. There is just shock that I have the balls to be able to pick up and move to a completely different continent almost half way around the world, a completely different culture. I don’t believe it myself.

To make everyone who reads this cry a little bit, I just wanted to insert that I love my family and friends so much, and I appreciate more than anyone could understand the love and support that I received back. My friend once said, it’s harder for the people that stay behind then for the one who lives. Thank you all so much for everything. I’m not sure if it’s harder for you or me. On the up side, I do expect a visitor every 5-6 months. My first two are already taken care of, so the rest of you should consider yourselves lucky.

In preparation for this trip, I had to think of things that I will miss, I will not have access to, or cannot bring at all.

Two weeks before resigning from work I took a vacation to California for a capoeira event, to see my best friend Julia who is 6 months pregnant, and to see off my old roommate, Nora, who got married. This was a great goodbye trip, a great way to see my friends and let them see me off in a personal way.

I also had a few personal medical issues that came up, fortunately before my last day so that my health insurance covered it. While in the dentist chair I thought of what would happen if I got my first cavity in India. My dentist proposed two options, the first was that I could get my first cavity filled, the second was I could get my scheduled cleaning but I would come back form India with, most likely, a missing tooth. I chose to get the cavity filled, obviously. The dentist, very sympathetic to my fear of getting a cavity, took a picture, played great music, and walked me through the surprisingly painless operation. I wonder what would happen if I didn’t go to the dentist.

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