I begin at the end.
I have just returned a few days ago from my big trip. I wish I could have stayed on the road longer, but alas, this wayfarer has an alternate life to go back to--a house, a job, bills to pay. I wish I didn't have to. Nothing hurt more than the 40-minute cab ride towards my last plane ride for the trip--the one that was to take me back to where I started. I don't dare call it home, for it feels the other way around now. For once in my life I am sure of something. I belong out there.
It all makes sense now. Leaving, looking at the blur of the highway going hurriedly past my window, I thought about the countless afternoons I spent three years earlier, looking outside the window from my big city office. I remember feeling the unbearable pain of incarceration. What is out there? I wondered. The ridiculously white walls of my office were closing in and I felt like losing air. This can't be all there is, I remember repeatedly saying to myself. From then on I knew that predetermined way of life isn't the life suited for me.
And so when I met people who showed me their traveling life, everything took a turn. Unattached to the norms of society, material possessions, careers, and status, it was a way of life so iridescent, I knew I just had to be a part of it. It was everything I wanted--to be free.
It saddens me that this trip that I have been looking forward to in a while is suddenly all over. But beneath all that, though, is the knowledge that this is really just the beginning. There is just so much to see, after all.
It was only a short period, but I learned a lot of things, nevertheless. I discovered a lot of things about myself, about places, and about the incredible connection you can have with strangers. I wish I could give justice to them all. I don’t know if my words and photos will suffice, but you can count on it that I will try. It's the least I can do after all the wonderful things that's happened anyway.
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