A couple of months ago, after graduation reared its wonderful and frightful cap-laden head, I went for a run, took a nap in a worn-down hammock, and made a promise to myself:
I was going to be in Krakow, Poland, one of my most favorite places, by September.
In June, it seemed inevitable. In July, it seemed plausible. But by the time August came around, it seemed a little impossible. I told myself and those around me that I would buy a one-way ticket whether or not I already had a job lined up. At times, I regretted that proclamation, especially when my bank account seemed to idle at half empty. Nothing was lined up. In fact, everything seemed askew so I started to panic and eat a lot of chocolate.
So many people asked me again and again what the plan was. It went from “Krakow, definitely Krakow!” to “Um, I just want to go abroad” to “Good question”. I was amassed with uncertainty, the kind that is both quelled and created in college.
It felt like I was changing my major all over again, in constant fear of the puzzled glances and the yikes-you’re-in-for-it smirks. I spent most of this summer painting fences, dog-sitting, house-sitting, baby-sitting, teaching, and cleaning just so I could earn enough money to flee the country and prove that I could do it; that I could really pursue my hammock-spun dream. But as the weeks and months started to roll by and I was still without a plan, I started to wonder if my extreme aversion to seafood tampered with the whole “the world is your oyster” saying. Maybe Krakow declared independence from that oyster when I wasn’t looking. I could dream about Krakow but could I dare to deliver it?
Well, believe or not, after filling out one too many overly enthusiastic questionnaires, I’ve found the pearl to the oyster.
In 15 days, I’m flying to Budapest and then to Krakow a week later. I’ll be working with some international students and adults who want to improve their English through the Angloville program. I won’t be earning any money out of the experience but I know it will be a worthwhile experience nonetheless. The eventual hope is to earn my TEFL degree, teach, take a stab at travel writing , and lend a hand to people who need it without patting myself on the back or using it as a resume booster.
I’m not sure what’s next after the two-week program ends. My plan is to stay abroad and stumble upon an opportunity that allows me to write and explore and eat chocolate out of joy rather than panic. Not exactly a fool-proof plan, I know, but as my mum recently told me, there is great excitement in fear and uncertainty. Discomfort is deliverance for dreamers, I’ve always believed that.
And so, here it goes!
It’s time to galllivant! It’s time to be truly gobsmacked! It’s time to load up on Dramamine and traveler’s insurance because a plane is leaving for Budapest in 15 days and I get to be on it!
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