So I left the states Wednesday afternoon feeling a bit... I don't know. The fact that I was about to fly to another continent where I would remain for the next 7 weeks just didn't seem real. The last time I left this country I was 8 years old and I was going to Haiti. The other major difference is that back then I had my mother and three or four other family members traveling with me. This time around I'm doing it on my own. It was really important for me to do something completely on my own and I'm really happy that I'll get to accomplish it.
My flight was supposed to be 8 hours but I was on the plane for about ten because it took us over two hours to get taxied out. I thought I was going to sleep the whole way there but...that didn't really happen. I even made sure not to sleep the night before (actually this wasn't accidental, I packed everything then). I think that the nervousness and anticipation got to me so I didn't get more than maybe and hour and a half's worth of sleep on the plane.
The flight was a little creepy. I usually don't like flying (I don't freak out or anything I just hate those unexpected "little" drops). About 7 of the 8 hours were spent over water. There was no land for miles and miles. Once I got past the creepy factor, began to appreciate it. Once it got dark all i could see was hundreds of stars. Since that is something I don't get to see too often, especially in Northern NJ, I really appreciated it.
After that I finally relaxed. I stopped getting pissed off at the kids who kept kicking me the whole eight hours and watched a few movies. I settled in and tried to prepare myself mentally for what was about to happen and finally I let all the excitement kick in.
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