Changes.

Going out to dinner with 14 people I was close to used to entail many things. Make up, a sassy outfit maybe with heels, perfume sprays, a car ride of pump up music, and clear and concise banter with the waiter or waitress throughout the meal. It wouldn't be uncommon to ask for more, or to request small changes to the meal provided on the menu.

Now, going out to dinner is both a much simpler and more complex affair. No make up, whatever fits the weather best, comfortable walking shoes, perfume has been replaced with deet, walking on foot singing disney classics, head lamps are a must, and nothing more than a few graciases and lots of smiles between server and consumer now are all pieces of going out to dinner.

Through all this, there has been one song that has not only been sung a few times... but also, to put it simply, simply can't evade my mind. CH-CH-CH-CHANGES by David Bowie....

Right now, I can't seem to escape the changes.

They are everywhere.

My day to day routine used to encompass a lot more facebook. TV shows of my choice. Constant communication with friends and family alike. Learning was an activity that took up no more than 6 hours of my day. Intellectual banter was in general confined to a classroom, leaving the few smart kids and those with contentious opinions to battle topics of interest. The morning began whenever I woke up... never really before 9. Eating was an activity of choices... was I going to go to the fridge, or go out and grab a burger? Who was I going to eat with?

Life now, is quite a bit different. Breakfast at this hotel is served at 8, and we pretty much eat rice, beans, eggs, and either plantanes or toast. There is fruit, usually some combination of bananas, watermelon, pineapple, and papaya. I don't drink water or coke with my food, I drink juices. Oh, and I always eat with the same 14 people. Not that its bad. Our little family is always fun at meal times.

The learning part though, has been the most different. Food is food (or at least that it what I am convincing myself). My perception of learning as a teacher (everyone just envision mrs. kalb or a teacher of the like saying with her pinched face "when I'm talking, you aren't"... which basically meant the teacher talked the entire lesson while clicking power point slides...) dominating topics of discussion has been slaughtered. And I'm glad it has been so murdered. Learning now is a discussion, a debate, a conglomeration of ideas born from societies all of the country, life experience, readings, and personal philosophy. At TBB... in just 11 days.... We've all become teachers and students alike.

Our education has in a certain way been revolutionized. I, personally, am no longer searching for the answers.... With a topic like development, how could you be? The answers are irrelevant... MY quest has begun to discover better questions, and of course, to execute and actually ask them.

The shift has not only been in learning and in eating. Surprisingly, the term boredom has been brought to a whole new level at times. I never realized how dependent I was on technology, things, people, VARIETY for stimulation. Long stretches of free time once yearned for during the most stressful times of junior and senior year are now foes... characterized by the wish... the desire to be busy.

SO yesterday, IT RAINED. AND IT RAINED A LOT. I, among many others, were going stir crazy. Cabin fever doesn't even begin to explain our actual cabin fever (yes, we are staying in wooden buildings). I couldn't sit one more second itching. I use the word itching both stylistically and literally. You should see my legs and arms. They are not characterized by anything but redness cuts, scrapes, and bites of assorted colors and circumferences. To cure my itching, I first applied some anti-itch gel, and threw on my running shoes. I had to run. I had to... DO SOMETHING.

I ran, and ran. Through the rain. Through puddles knee deep. I ran for thirty minutes and returned fully energized. My shift in attitude encouraged another to come with me, and so the two of us continued to run. And we ran. We ran to the point of not being able to see, blinded by sweat and rain drops dripping from our eyelashes, into our eyes, and down our faces. At one point, we reached the emotional and physical peak of our run, pinnacling a hill. At this point, I fell to my knees, sat with my legs folded behind me, and yelled out "RAIN!" holding out my arms and cupping my hands... fully embracing the water that poured from the sky, soaked my skin, and turned the once chocolate dirt beneath me to become coffee, and swirl around my knees as so.

Basically, I had lost my mind. My sanity was temporarily misplaced, dissolved and eroded like the very dirt I sat in. But as my sanity escaped, so did a load of fears. Sanity, at times, can be a burden. With sanity... comes being afraid. Being cautious. In that moment, I realized... my sanity is going to have to take a back seat to my sanctity this year. And my sanctity is only going to be a product of embracing change, giving fear the middle finger, and comfortable and composed, even when faced with impossible environments and situations. Its ironic... isn't it? Moments of insane ecstasy and joy, seconds of rarity, often lead to prolonged sanity and contentment.

That run... did not change me. But it did effect me. Looking back, about give or take 20 hours later, I know that run was the best thing I had done for myself so far, post leaving home.

But that isn't to say I haven't done some pretty incredible things as well.
We have surfed on the most beautiful beach I've yet to witness. We ziplined through the heart of the rain forest. We kayaked through endangered mangroves. We learned the history of Ballenas. We have experienced Costa Rica.

And yet, I am ready to leave. I am ready to experience a whole lot more.

My next stop will take me to Ecuador. I am due to arrive Tuesday, September 20th in Quito. There, I will be picking up a new towel (the naked woman towel, is culturally impractical, lets be serious) ... and spending about two days. From there, more changes ensue. We will be splitting up, moving into homestay families, having only one other of us as a roomate, as a companion. However, we will still see each other each day for seminars and other meetings of the like. We leave any concept of being able to communicate. The village where we are working does not speak Spanish, they speak a different language entirely. We begin our work. We continue to search for questions. We begin the impossible... to let go of what we know as Americans.... and begin to identify ourselves of people of the world. We must shed our clouded lenses and strip ourselves naked of assumption, of obnoxious tendencies, of fear, of expecting sanitation, comfort, and ever looking pretty.

Many more changes are about to blow up in my face.
My internet usage is about to become a once- weekly thing.
My connection to all that I know is going to be cut sharply.
Tears will be shed, aches will be felt.
Sacrifices will be made.
I am hopelessly unprepared for what is yet to come.
But here is the thing.
I've never been so excited for anything in my life.