one ticket to Korea, please

*Note: This was a post I wrote before leaving but never quite got around to hitting the "Publish" button ... anyway, here it is months later, but in its chronological spot.

Sometimes when I say I'm moving to Korea, people look at me like a two-headed calf at a Kansas roadside attraction. Sometimes I get the cocked head and skeptical "Why?"
Now to be fair, most raised eyebrows at this statement accompany huge smiles and enthusiastic exclamations. But to those few who just can't understand why the heck a perfectly nice gal on the verge of old-maid-hood would pick up and put off any sense of permanent community to anonymously wonder a strange land ... I'm with ya. At least some days.

Some days I think I'm freaking crazy to leave this great place and the wonderful people here. I wonder how much I'll mourn my space, my in-house washing machine; I already dread the incomprehensible grocery trips and mystery cafeteria food. Some days it hits me how absolutely little I know about what I'm getting myself into. I have no doubt that in my sweeping schemes of adventure, I'm just a stupid rich American bound to spread my ignorance worldwide and chronicle the ordeal in oblivious, self-important anecdotes.

But today, like most days, is not one of those. Today I'm tired of watching life tick by in section deadlines, and I say bring it on. I've worked years to establish a resume and stable finances, and it's time to face down a little mystery. Today I'm scared I'll wake up tomorrow 20 years older and none the wiser, paralyzed by inertia.

Blame my friends - the ones who send me stories of Baghdad children, Peruvian ruins, Alaskan fishermen, Mexican tennis teachers, Chinese junk ships and Vietnamese old women. Blame my family, who started feeding me romantic tales of life abroad about the same time as hard foods. Blame the fool-headed books I read. Blame naive me, who couldn't quite get the travel itch entirely knocked out by a rough scrub in Europe.

Am I a fool? Unquestionably. But hopefully I'll be one who knows what kind of fool I am.