Sitting in the bar with a lager waiting for my plane to depart. A weird mixture of feelings but mostly I want to vomit. I’m about to go live with a family of five in Guatemala for two weeks and the only Spanish that ever seems to come to the tip of my tongue is “Como estas?” Great, that should get us to minute two. Then what? Should I bring them gifts? An Oregon Ducks football? A Portland Timbers hat? What do they even want? What do they even need? I’m guessing a Sasquatch bumper sticker isn’t it. I decide on nothing, though I’m also guessing my charm alone isn’t it either.
Cheers to adventure. Cheers to the unknown. Cheers to the growth that comes only from this kind of unmistakable and excruciatingly anxious discomfort. Here goes nothing.
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