I don't usually find plane ride very comfortable, especially ones that exceed 5 hours. But on my flight home I realized just how comfortable planes actually are. Yes they do have limited leg space and being 5'10'' my legs usually get in the way of my comfort, but for the first time in a long while I wasn't sitting sideways to get them to cram into the seat in front of me. One leg wasn't awkwardly crossed over the other or stepping on something that was squirming under my feet (
yes at some points I had to rest me feet on bags filled with something live.) My butt wasn't going numb and I was free to move about as I pleased. I didn't have to ration my water or my food in fear of not knowing when or if the bus (
Plane) would stop. There was no one to bargain for things with, and no squattlet to be used. There was water for me to drink and ample amounts of toilet paper (
extremely odd, it took me a bit to also realize that toilet paper can go down the toilet again). I was just feeling a bit strange. Where was the over crowded bus with the girls I was traveling with (
they were making their way back to the states, as I was making my way to Germany). Where was the intense heat and humidity causing me to sweat every morsel of fluids out of my body. Where were the locals and the mountain of things that were piled high on top of the bus that looked like it just stepped out of the 1970's. Sitting on this über clean plane, I was feeling a bit out of sorts.
2 months is such a short time to travel to see a country and experience their culture. And yet it takes even longer to get accustomed to the backpackers life, being more or less never clean, wearing the same things over and over again, being on the go and sleeping in the most uncomfortable of beds in some of the grungiest places. But some where along the way it grows on you and when stepping back into a clean a civilized world everything is just out of place. I was finally growing accustomed to the strange smells, the heat and humidity, describing things with my hands in order for people to get what I was saying, cramming the 3 of us into one bed (
yes it was usually a double or two twins pushed together). I was getting the hang of bargaining and accepting the fact that everything I own would smell of mold and never look clean. My legs were bound to look diseased from all the strange bug bites acquired (
right now it looks like I had a bought with the chicken pox). I had finally mastered using the squatter toilets and how to find my
'Happy Place' when crammed onto the long, over crowded, numb butt bus rides.
I'm going to miss the smiling kids, practicing the new words that we would try to learn and the discovering of new places. I'm going to miss the crazy adventures and the backpackers world (
even if we hated being stuck on the 'backpackers loop'). It was a good 9 weeks exploring, learning, discovering, growing, embracing, gaining self awareness, and accepting all that came our way. I know for sure that this isn't the end of my worldly travels and cultural learning.