The International Airport (Hot and Cold)

You don't even want to know how I got that plane to stay still...

I sat in the way-past-its-heyday Rio de Janeiro airport for about three hours before my flight to Madrid, where I'd twiddle my thumbs for 7 hours until another flight to London. I was sad to leave South America. Absolutely bummed. I hiked more over the last 5 months than I have in my entire man-it-feels-so-old 23 years of age, saw one beautiful awe-inspiring thing after another, risked life and limb by stepping into any taxi, and wore holes in my shoes... My shoes. I just sat there and looked at them. They were probably what made me think the most about what I've done, where I've been, and what I've learned. You could just see the miles on them. They were the only thing that hadn't been washed, and therefore the only things outside of my person that carried a little bit from every place I had been.

A voice boomed over the intercom, and I gathered my cognizance. I walked on wearing shorts, a tank top, and thong sandals. 11 hours and the most uncomfortable flight of my life later, I walked off wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Madrid was cold, and London would be colder.

Have you ever had those moments when you are stuck somewhere, anywhere, just waiting it out? You've got no books, no music, no pens, no companions... I probably ate lunch about six times waiting for my first easyJet flight. After the final lunch, I swung around the corner to find about 65 people waiting in no particular order to try to bumrush the gate in an attempt to snag their preferred seat... I didn't understand it, and didn't really care; I was about two hours away from seeing my mom. Out of anything and everything that could let me know how far I've come, in any terms, since my departure from Seattle for my Bonderman experience, nothing could be a better barometer for change than my mom. She's been there for all of my ups and downs, and she certainly did more than her share of helping me grow into who I am--for better or worse. And I know that I wouldn't have ever received the Bonderman if it wasn't for the examples she laid out for me. Mostly because, without her, I wouldn't have ever thought it possible to go, nor would I have ever learned it was ok to never stop going.

It was just as cold as I expected, and just as great to see my mom as I figured it would be. My hole laden Adidas shoes are gone, and I've already experienced something more traumatizing than any South American taxi ride: Driving in England on the opposite side of the road at night in the rain. However, being here is an incredibly drastic change from anything I have done for the last five months. Though, I think it has made me think more about my life, and my future, than any other place I have been so far.

Oh, and I'm pretty sure my mom is having a good time too.