San Francisco, California. I arrived on the west side of things. This city has that NYC vibe with cultural pockets scattered around and well dressed passerbys. It's clear i'm not apart of it. I'm the tourist, the other. I'm those who fly in and fly out with a fierce intent on taking a picture next to the Golden Gate bridge. I'm those I used to turn my nose up at and push past. Perspective. It's all new and it's about to be newer.
I'm finally standing in line at orientation. My journey's about to begin. I hold my breath every time someone new enters the room. Are we going to be friends? Will you accept me? Am I cool enough? Are you smarter? In any case we're all here now, business casual and ready for the worst. It feels good though. I can feel independence pulsating back into me. It's a rush. I'm on my own.
Ice breakers later and I'm toasting to peace on earth while sharing my last cheese dish with those I've only known for a few hours. It's time. This is it. We're doing it. I find an urge to sing America the beautiful and stand up and pledge. It's crazy really. A bunch of 20/30 somethings giving it all up.
Last night in the US of A. I can't believe I'm writing this. Next stop Indonesia.
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