Traveler Spirit

WELL, that's a relief. I just looked over everything for the I.S.A. program and guess what? I'm getting out of here. All of the requirements before leaving are complete. I'm gonna capitalize on this small moment where people can actually be jealous of what I'm doing. Hey, why not? Feels good. Last time I did something worth talking about all it amounted to was melting in the street heat of D.C. for a week. Walking out the door into that haze I could almost picture a sand timer over my head counting down before I oozed into some crack in the sidewalk. Perhaps Washington was the Vegas of its time, built over a swamp instead of a desert. I'm sure back in those politically charged days it must have been as much fun to get into a debate as it is to lose all of your money on the Strip. I mean, probably not, but why else is it the capital? Something exciting must have been happening.

Some say that Seoul during the winter is about as depressing as it gets. Yet I don't see this being the case. Maybe the reason is because I feel I'm under the same revolutionary spirit that had Jefferson envisioning a swamp to be the nerve center for a great society. It's the sign, the Eagle on the cactus that points to Tenochtitlan.

Since childhood I've always been interested in countries and how they've ebbed through time. For example, is it strange to anyone else that Mongolia was at one point the closest thing we've ever had to an empire that conquered the planet? Now when do we hear that country's name, save for when relations with the Chinese turn sour, if at all? To be honest I think it was the childhood wonder that has been such a strong force in my desire to travel. This is a desire that, up until a few months ago, I thought was shared by everybody.

Who wasn't young once and enchanted by the stereotypical images of pyramids and sunshine and camels sauntering through an endless landscape of sand? Who didn't honestly believe somewhere in their childish mind that they would one day be that adventurer, macheteing their way through some overgrown jungle?

But I'm not a child anymore. The real adventure in life has always come from less obvious venues. The gray of a city obscures just as the dirt covering the 'X' that marks the spot, so to speak. Ancient mysteries are remembered and forgotten, causing enlightenment for the whole world on the occasional good day. As a citizen of the world, as we ultimately all are, I deem my job in Korea to be like sifting for gold. To expose for good or ill what treasures may exist where few care to look.

I believe these treasures will come in the form of a different way of viewing life. A unique way of viewing life is the real backbone of any particular nationality, tribe, or simply any group of people who see themselves as sharing a common heritage. The real value of a trip that makes everything worth it is the ability to learn how to live differently. Consequently, one can find themselves living a new life entirely.

I don't know if I'll understand the non-adventurer types, the "home-bodies", as they've been described to me. Maybe they've been held down by their own society which constantly states, "We've been there, the whole world has been discovered." Discovery and exploration is the essence of the human spirit. If you listen to this train of thought then the last place you can explore is the bottom of the ocean. At every turn it seems to me that this is the only place a country would like to send its explorers, the people who realize that its impossible for one place to be the best in the world. To hear that all Parisians are snobs, the people in the town next to mine are rednecks, or any generalization for that matter, has never been enough to dampen my freedom to find out for myself. Seeing only half the world will never be enough, you couldn't convince me otherwise if it were a trip to the Moon. I encourage everyone to see what potential exists for living a full life before it becomes impossible to ever do so.

For now though, I am prepared to bid adieu to the States...