Two summers ago, I spent a month in an Alaskan coastal
village supposedly participating in an archaeology project that totally fell
through. I actually wrote a few blog posts during that time, but they never got
posted and I eventually erased them from my computer. Despite having its good
days and overall being a positive experience, it was a very frustrating time
that I think is best expressed in my face in this picture that the lovely photographer
Deborah Mercy caught me in unexpectedly:
I survived my senior year at Bryn Mawr, and after passing all
my classes, somehow writing two theses, suffering innumerable panic attacks,
and generally being miserable for a year, I “got my paper and I was free.”
Then began a whirlwind of events. I took a class in medical
interpretation, getting my certificate two weeks after graduating from Bryn
Mawr. I splurged and flew west to visit my dear friend Rosie at her home in
British Columbia. I spent the summer working for a catering company, which wasn’t
much fun but gave me the financial wherewithal to purchase a 2005 Honda Civic,
now known as Carl or Carlitos.
The freedom that personal transportation permits is a
fantastic thing. I spent a lot of time on the road this fall, travelling to
Philadelphia to visit friends from school; to the Boston area to stay with my
grandmother; to upstate New York to go hiking with my cousin Alice; to rural Quebec
to spend Canadian Thanksgiving with Rosie and her family at their cottage on
Kent Lake; and between my home in Vermont and my Uncle Ken’s home in Maine,
where I worked for him on snail species descriptions for his Virginia Land
Snail Atlas.
My grandparents offered to take me on a trip to Peru with
them in October, which was fantastic in that it meant being in South America
again (something I’ve missed terribly since I was last in Bolivia), and seeing
places I’ve always wanted to see. It was a learning experience in that I was
given the responsibility of guide/interpreter extraordinaire, which is
sometimes stressful. The three of us in Machu Picchu:
All the while, I was keeping up a job search that seemed
more and more futile with each application that went unanswered – of which
there were far too many. When my friends Lena and Sarah (for more on Sarah, see
earlier blog posts – she was my travel companion in the Middle East) invited me
to live in the tiny extra room (dubbed “the Julie Andrews room” – because who
wouldn’t want to live under the same roof as Julie Andrews?) in their South
Philadelphia house, I decided to take the risk, unemployed as I was, and have
been living here since Thanksgiving. December was consumed by the maddening
combination of inertia and desperate activity, as I alternated between feverishly
searching for and applying to jobs and spending long, horrible days anxiously waiting
around for responses. Knowing that I was far from the only unemployed college
graduate was both a vague comfort and something that constantly terrified me. And
then, just when I was coming to the conclusion that employment was apparently
impossible, I was offered a job as a medical interpreter! I signed my contract
on New Year’s Eve, started out 2013 officially employed, and had my first day
of work this week.
With the need to find employment settled, I have been able
to spend the past few weeks in a much more relaxed mind-set. I want to get to
know Philadelphia – not just Center City, which I’ve visited and explored
during the last 4 years as a college student in the wealthy suburbs, but the
nitty-gritty and the beautiful of the neighborhood I live in, and other
neighborhoods in South Philadelphia, West Philadelphia, and North Philadelphia.
I want to seek out new activities, meet people who didn’t go to Bryn Mawr. And
I want to visit places outside of the Philadelphia area – other parts of
Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, New York, Maryland, places I can get to
more easily now with a car. Maybe I’ll even be able to venture farther away,
and travel south to Appalachia, where I’ve never been.
Ultimately, adventure doesn’t just happen across oceans and
in other continents. I don’t have to be in Spain or Jordan or somewhere equally
“exotic” to have experiences worth describing. So now I’d like to use
this blog as a medium to talk about new adventures, with the hope that
having a space in which to write about them will encourage me to go out and
make them happen.
Get your adventure faces on, people!
Get your adventure faces on, people!