Today I submitted a form expressing my intent to graduate at the commencement ceremony in December. Upon handing over the sheet of paper, the man on the other side of the desk energetically congratulated me on my impending completion of my undergraduate career.
I smiled and thanked him, naturally.
Frank is a 29-year-old male, whom I met him behind APU’s on-campus apartments with my friend, Tara, at around 8 or 9 p.m.
“That Uber girl was totally hitting on me.”
In his mildly drunken stupor, the man crossed the street from the car that just pulled away to join Tara and I on the sidewalk. He seemed harmless enough.
Originality is an end that is seldom met, particularly in writing.
Authors, journalists, and the like can have an aspect of style and technique infused within writing. Sure, there is authenticity and a brute honesty that can come of writing. But originality? That is the finish line that writers don’t often cross – just because you can see it doesn’t mean that you’ve crossed it.
The Jordanian pilot’s plane was coming down, there was no stopping it. The month was December, and it looked as though his mission against the Islamic State would inevitably fail. His landing in Syria should have only meant that he was making his contribution to the cause of bringing down IS. He was captured quickly, most likely to be tortured and beaten. The coalition could do nothing – only wait and see what was to come of this pilot’s fate.
The only sound audible is the quick click-clack of my fingers striking the keyboard of the laptop in front of me, with the occasional flip of the glossy textbook page. He sits across from me, silent in whatever productivity he manages to convince me that he is doing.
I like that we can sit in silence. There is a particular extent of beauty that comes from two people not needing to speak aloud to enjoy each other’s company. It is comfortable with him. I am comfortable.
As I’ve made aware by the excessively sentimental posts on social media this past week about the end of my Ecuador semester creeping up, the dreaded moment has finally arrived: I have officially left Ecuador.
The dread lies deeper than being upset in the simple fact that I have to leave an incredible country that has so deeply captured my heart. Rather, it lies in the acknowledgement that this group of eclectic students and staff will never be fully reunited again on this earth. It lies in the fact that I now must face the realities of what I left behind in the States before this semester.
It almost seems silly that I would write a blog post on what’s wrong with the idea of studying abroad when I’m doing just that at this time. However, it’s important to challenge the decisions that we make and truly understand why we decide to do things like studying abroad for a period of time.
Over the last couple of years, I have consistently been asked these two questions: “why this major?” and “what do you plan to do with it in the future?” I then respond with an, “I’m not sure yet… still trying to figure it out,” knowing that my answer wasn’t satisfying to both the person asking and to myself.
Quito at dusk.
The crazy thing about studying abroad is that you think you’ll have ample time to utilize blogging as a means of processing the chaos surrounding your daily schedule, but that’s really not the case. I suppose the fact that I’m able to sit and write now is a miracle in itself, so Praise the Lawd for that.
If there were two words to accurately convey the thoughts running through my mind now, it would be these: cold feet.
For those of you that don’t know, I will be departing for Quito, Ecuador tomorrow, where I will be studying Spanish, intercultural communication, and other various subjects for the duration of the fall semester. This program entails the exploration of the highest capital city in the world (Quito sits at almost 10,000 ft elevation), the Amazon jungle, the Galápagos Islands, among other extraordinary locations. I will be living with 19 other students from other universities across the country, staying in both apartments and home-stays.
Subtle Significance 