So today, I spent about 7 hours on an airplane 'bound for Mexico. Sounds like the first line to some Country song I suppose, but's it'd really not so much that as my traveling down to Guadalajara for Thanksgiving with my aunt. See, I worked out a deal, well more of an arrangement, well actually more like an announcement, to/with my mom that I'm often going to travel on Thanksgiving, but always be home for Christmas, so here I am, south of the border thinking I'm going to escape cell phones (my phone still receives texts and voicemails) and email (I have DSL in my room) and yet again, my scattered state of existence has me digressing from my main point which is this...
Nevermind the two-year-old that kicked the back of my seat for five hours
Nevermind the one-year-old that kicked my elbow for two hours, or worse yet her loud mother's attempts to keep the kid quiet (honestly, I'd have taken my chances with the kid)
Nevermind all the noisy chatter in the lines and on the plane
The beauty of it was I couldn't understand a thing! So while the teenage girls could've been arguing over who was cuter Justin or Usher or the Mamas could've been delving into their latest weight loss one-pill-wonders or the Papas were chatting about the latest scores on the latest games... I wasn't annoyed. I couldn't have cared less because I simply couldn't understand it. It was just this sort of melodic Latin-sounding background noise that was more or less just a soundtrack for my next adventure. Ya know, kinda put me in the mood to realize that I was leaving on a Central Mexican journey!
I had forgotten how beautiful it is to be traveling internationally...
How fun it is to try new and wierd snacks on the airplanes...
Or see words written in different languages...
Or that beautiful part-euphoric, part-panicked, part-adreniline rush feeling that comes from being in a place outside your normal operating environment...
There was a sweet familiarity in the midst of all these foreign surroundings and it all whispered at some of my favorite memories traveling in different countries. In a wierd way, I felt like I was coming home...
Image Credit: http://www.publichealthidaho.com/Images/passport.jpg
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