From Salon to Salam

            “Oh, yeah, I’m moving to Georgia for a few months, so…”

            “Well Georgia’s not so far aw-“

            “The country of Georgia, not the state.”

            “…”

“It’s in the Caucasus region of Asia. North of Turkey, south of Russia. Well, ‘Russia’. Chechnya. Womp womp.”

            “…Oh.”

            For the past six months, I’ve grown accustomed to explaining to people:

11)   Where the country of Georgia is

22)   When I’m traveling there

33)   What I plan on doing once I get there, and

44)   What in the name of God’s green earth inspired such a trip

The funny thing is, every time I’ve explained my motivations to others, I have found that part of my dialogue was aimed at convincing myself as well. With every joke, every faked accent, every theoretical anecdote about being mauled by a bear or burned at the stake, part of my own brain was screaming “No, but really, what are you doing tard?” (I reserve the right to be politically incorrect on this blog)

And you know, I’m still not entirely sure.

            Anais Nin once said, “Life grows in proportion to your courage.” I don’t know how Ms.Nin would choose to differentiate between courage, stupidity, and desperation, but to me they all seem to be second cousins to one another, and there you have my motivations for travel. I’ve yet to figure out what this trip to Georgia is going to be for me, but I know it will take some time to figure out.

At the moment, I am a bit nervous. We’re only a day into our travels, and already I feel anxious at the inability to call my loved ones on a whim. So much of my life is made up of the people I know and interact with on a daily basis.

In the absence of an Internet connection, I will paraphrase C.S. Lewis (I promise he won’t be offended, primarily because he’s dead).

“You do not have a soul. You have a body. You are a soul.”

In the same way, we do not have friendship, but rather we are our friendships. We are the people we know and love, the people who shape us. In that sense, the thought of Georgia is strange to me not in the absence of English or Bojangle’s or Say Yes to the Dress (which I will miss more than each and every one of you individually), but rather in the absence of the people who make me who I am.

But again it’s only day one, and inshallah, come tomorrow I will wake up refreshed and reconvinced that I am a hybrid of Tyra Banks and Indiana Jones and that no challenge is too great to stand up to a whip and smizing.

Love and miss you all,

Mitch