I’ve come back.
Back from a semester of spending all of my love on my teammates, doing a considerable amount of wandering with them, but soaking it in and squeezing none of it into these meticulously-crafted blog posts.
But another adventure is starting. One that deserves to be well-documented in vibrant color and marginally witty prose. So I’m writing to you from gate A36 in the McNamara terminal, waiting to board a plane to Paris. And then another one to Delhi where I’ll spend the rest of the summer soaked in curry and probably a fair amount of my own sweat.
For 11 weeks I’ll be working with the Public Health Foundation of India, studying something related to vaccination under someone who’s probably highly-qualified to teach me. The details will likely come on a moment-by-moment basis. But I know the important things. Like that there will be a nice Indian man with a sign on my name on it at gate number five tomorrow night. And someone will serve me bed tea at 6:00am on Monday morning.
After a quick couple days at home and an infinite number of checklists, I think I’m ready to go. I’m the walking ad Patagonia never wanted to have, my backpack cumbersomely strapped to my chest, my Black Hole duffel stuffed to the brim and bulging so far out behind me that I keep whipping around thinking I’m being a little too closely followed. As I sip some iced coffee and allow Ben Howard to serenade me, the excitement is mounting. It’s time to wander again. This time to the place that’s been on the top of my “to travel” list for the last five years.
About to put all kinds of travel in that travel mug.
My trusty arsenal of shoes for the summer.
And just in case you’re interested in putting yourself in the same great emotional place I’m resting in:
Happy Travel Day, loved ones.
Back from a semester of spending all of my love on my teammates, doing a considerable amount of wandering with them, but soaking it in and squeezing none of it into these meticulously-crafted blog posts.
But another adventure is starting. One that deserves to be well-documented in vibrant color and marginally witty prose. So I’m writing to you from gate A36 in the McNamara terminal, waiting to board a plane to Paris. And then another one to Delhi where I’ll spend the rest of the summer soaked in curry and probably a fair amount of my own sweat.
For 11 weeks I’ll be working with the Public Health Foundation of India, studying something related to vaccination under someone who’s probably highly-qualified to teach me. The details will likely come on a moment-by-moment basis. But I know the important things. Like that there will be a nice Indian man with a sign on my name on it at gate number five tomorrow night. And someone will serve me bed tea at 6:00am on Monday morning.
After a quick couple days at home and an infinite number of checklists, I think I’m ready to go. I’m the walking ad Patagonia never wanted to have, my backpack cumbersomely strapped to my chest, my Black Hole duffel stuffed to the brim and bulging so far out behind me that I keep whipping around thinking I’m being a little too closely followed. As I sip some iced coffee and allow Ben Howard to serenade me, the excitement is mounting. It’s time to wander again. This time to the place that’s been on the top of my “to travel” list for the last five years.
About to put all kinds of travel in that travel mug.
My trusty arsenal of shoes for the summer.
And just in case you’re interested in putting yourself in the same great emotional place I’m resting in:
Happy Travel Day, loved ones.
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