Twas the Night Before....

For the billionith time today, I have reassured people that I was not nervous or frightened or scared (mostly my parents who are). I was, in fact, antsy. I was counting down the hours until I boarded my first flight(currently 11.92). I've traveled before, I've flown alone. The first leg of the branch, a 4 hour drive to my grandparents house in Pittsburgh, had already taken place. A drive I've taken many times. Tomorrow, I will fly to New York, and then New York straight to Accra, the capital to my new home, Ghana. An ample layover reassures no rushing and a regular trans-atlantic flight. I will arrive at about 8 in the morning, the time difference is 4 hours ahead with a new friend in tow. I am meeting a girl from Georgia in New York and we will be exploring greater Accra together until we start volunteering on the 1st. She will be teaching in village, and I will be off to camp. I will be staying in my first hostel!!! and learning about the culture by the family who runs it.

Please join twitter (link below my profile) that way in case something should happen to me, I can send out a mass message and be able to get help if needed.

Things I know about Ghana: currently in the rainy season, average temperature 90 degrees F, little/no air conditioning, nice beaches on coast.

Things I know I will have some difficulty with: not being able to make plans via cell phone. All meeting up by my fellow volunteers has to be planned ahead of time. Sometimes....I'm not very flexible...

I know that my trip will not always be fun or adventurous; I will probably want to go back home at some point or another. But right now, I really need to get away. I need to escape from all the ease and wastefullness. I need a break from sitting around watching Sex and the City and running errands back and forth across town. The silver spoon of it all has begun to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

I found this story, the perspective it has is the same as why I'm going:

A rugged individual was walking in the woods in front of a fading sun.
Clomp, stomp, step.
"Who is this walking?" a young tree pondered aloud.
"I am me," the individual replied to the dusk.
The tree strained, but only saw a skeleton.
"What happened to you?" the tree asked quietly.
"I have been walking for a long time. There were plants with thorns that ripped my skin. There were plants that had broken petals that needed mending. There were small caves in which I could not fit, and too large of leas that I tried to fill. My body left me piece by piece."
"Oh," was the trees solemn reply. "Take some of my leaves to protect your soul."
"Don't worry tree. I will not lose my soul. You see, my being is in everyplace I have left my body, not in the flesh itself, but instead, in the idea."
As the individual was explaining, a small shower of green fell like tears and wrapped themselves around the remains of the body.
"I've learned that we are part of all of what we meet, but as a tree I know that roots are vital to life. Without stability, a sense of self cannot be established, and death will fill the void of the purposeless," said the tree.
Both acknowledged what had been gained and lost. The individual passed through the woods with the gift of the tree and a path in mind. The tree shivered tall; it could give and still be.
Above, a cloud moaned past noticing the nakedness in the canopy.
"Oh tree," was all it said, and as it went by some of the mist clung to the empty branches, protecting it from the night.