I’ve had a countdown app on my phone for two weeks now, ticking down to the time I take my first flight across the Atlantic. I check it everyday, but this whole trip still doesn’t seem “real”.
I’ve never been abroad before. I’ve only flown twice in my life, to Pennsylvania. The furthest I’ve been is a day trip to New York City. I’ve never moved, and I go to school only an hour away from home.
And yet I’ve always wanted to travel.
I’ve never done something like this, and though it excites me outrageously, I have no idea what it’s going to be like. I have an eight-hour flight to get to London, and I’m clueless as to how I’m going to get through that. I’m not even really sure what jetlag means!
But gosh, am I excited. Everything I’m about to do is new for me, and my world is going to be literally opened up to fresh horizons. How amazing is that.
When I signed up for this, I called myself a scholar, an artist, and a student. And I’m coming to France as all of these. I’m obviously going to be a student, I’ll be learning in the classroom and out. Perhaps the most prominent thing I’ll learn is the French language. Everyone says the best way to learn is to immerse yourself, and I’m taking the plunge. Regarding my identity as an artist, I’m always looking for inspiration, and I’ve always been told Paris is a city of art. The famous painters that have called it home, the masterpieces living in the Louvre, and the theatre that plays on it’s stages are all a buffet of art, being offered up to me. I cannot wait to see the art I’ve loved and adored for years in books. And as a scholar, I will truly be stretching and opening my mind. I love to learn, and I’m going into Paris with open arms, knowing I’ll come back all the more full.