The memory of boarding that airplane at GSP seems so distant. But at the same time it feels like just yesterday. Four months. Four whole months. Have we really gone without Chick-fil-A, Mountain Dew, and Asheville for a third of a year?
When we left Greenville, we didn’t leave much behind. Most of our furniture, clothes, and “stuff” either went to friends, neighbors, or the Goodwill. I sold my truck. We didn’t want to rent a storage unit or put the burden on our families of keeping all of our things until we returned. The romantic idea of traveling the world with everything we owned stuffed into a backpack was beginning to look more and more like a real possibility.
I secretly count the days until we get to go home. But at the same time both Jessica and I have mixed emotions in our heads. We’ve got a very good thing going for us in Yeongju. The jobs are great. Professional. We actually make enough money to have a significant savings account. Neither of us have ever experienced that before. Jessica’s boss wants to renew her contract and then hire me after my current contract ends in September. There are many benefits that would come with staying a year longer than we had planned.
We didn’t leave promising careers. It wasn’t hard to abandon the only place we had ever known. Our families and closest friends would always be our family and closest friends.
We’ve never been so close to the Great Wall of China. Mt. Fuji. The DMZ. I’ve never had such a steady diet of healthy food. We’re celebrities here. There is opportunity every single day to see something that we’ve never seen before. It’s the adventure I’ve wanted for so long.
I’ve read my share of travel authors in the past few years. One thing that seems to characterize them all is something that strangely resembles an addiction. Not to drugs. Not to alcohol. Not to gambling. They all seem to be addicted to motion. They can’t settle. Something inside compels them to keep moving. To keep travelling.
The need to travel is a mysterious force. A desire to go runs through
me equally with an intense desire to stay at home. An equal and
opposite thermodynamic principle. When I travel, I think of home
and what it means. At home I’m dreaming of catching trains at night
in the gray light of Old Europe, or pushing open shutters to see
Florence awaken. The balance just slightly tips in the direction of the
Airport.
Frances Mayes
A Year in the World
There’s always a village, or people, or distant mountain to see. A moment to capture. Something out there, some adventure, is always more appealing than home. That’s how I feel right now.
So at the 4 month mark, that’s our dilemma. What should we do after the next 8 months pass? What is waiting for us back at home? We’re living the experience of a lifetime. How do you follow that without looking back?
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