So, I'm going to Kenya, officially. Scary thought, as I'm going alone. By far the scariest, longest, adventure I will ever have embarked upon, but I am excited. I am excited to be in a place so far from here, so distant from anything that I have ever known, and doing something there. Not just enjoying the sights, but (hopefully) making a difference.
When I say I'll be "making a difference" it sounds so overly hopeful and optimistic. It sounds naive. I realize it, and I know that it's not as simple as just donating my overly privileged time to some African nation where I probably won't make a dent, and may even hinder that nation by being officious and not working to help them stand on their own two feet. I understand those concerns, I do. I realize what I'm doing is minuscule, is petty, and honestly may be pretty self absorbed. But I see it like this: I have wanderlust. Serious, serious wanderlust. And if I'm going to travel somewhere, might as well make myself useful and try at least to do something productive for someone other than myself. And that's all there is to it!
I'm especially looking forward to the safaris. Seriously! I'm going on safari!!! Lions! Elephants! Giraffes! Zehbrahs!
Anyway. I guess I've been pretty absorbed with this and been letting a lot of other stuff slip through the cracks. I've gotten pretty behind on my readings for school, but I figure I'll catch up. There is so much hassle involved with going to Africa, so much more than I would have imagined. There are visas to be gotten, shots (oy, that's tomorrow...my poor arms), plane tickets (I paid $84.20 round trip...yes, I realize I am one of the luckiest people in the world, thank-you so much Uncle Kevin), forms, health forms, insurance, travel plans, malaria nets, bug spray, toilet paper...
SO much to think about. I'll just try to get my head in the game for the rest of the semester and I think I should be set.
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