Okay. So here’s the sitch.
Tomorrow morning, I’m getting on a train at early o’clock to some town in Morocco, getting on another train to the airport in Casablanca, finally actually paying for a plane ticket to Georgia, flying to Istanbul, and crashing in a hostel there. I will see Istanbul. (I WILL SEE ISTANBUL WHAT) Hopefully, I’ll meet some beautiful Australian man at the hostel or airport or in some Turkish café, and we’ll run around the city till I have to head back to the airport late Saturday morning, to catch a flight to Batumi, Georgia, where hopefully Ernie will pick me up. I can always call him though, because I just randomly did to see if his number worked and I definitely woke him up. Sorry, Ernie. (But actually. I find I’m always tired here, probably because being in a place where nobody speaks your language is freaking exhausting. Plus, he’s a teacher, and that shit’s hard. I realized that it was 1am his time (FUNNY STORY IT’S NOW PAST 1 MY TIME) a little after the fact; so for realz, apologies for waking you up. My very impulsive bad.)
I KNOW I WAS BEING ALL COY BEFORE BUT GUYS GUYS GUYS I’M GOING TO EFFING GEORGIA! REPUBLIC OF, NOT THE STATE. THE REPUBLIC OF GEORGIA. LEARN AS MUCH AS I KNOW ABOUT GEORGIA HERE!
This song has been stuck in my head all day, even though I know Ray wasn’t talking about this Georgia.
Especially since an old sweet song in the Republic of Georgia would probably sound more like this:
Anyway, I’m practically shitting kittens here I’m so nervous. I feel as though my stomach is trying to do yoga again, but this time I didn’t even eat anything weird, which is categorically unfair. Packed in my bag is some clothing, a book that I hope will be awesome because I’m writing about it for Gender class, a list of Fousha vocabulary (actually, I just tore the glossary out of the back of my book), some dates and almonds, and a camera. There’s some other stuff too, but it’s less poetic stuff like soap and a small towel and so I thought I could leave those out. I’m not even sure why I’m writing about what I packed. I’m just nervous and tired and nervous and tired and nervous and tired I guess! HAPPY SPRING BREAK! TAKE YOUR TOPS OFF! AND THEN PUT THEM BACK ON, ALONG WITH A SWEATSHIRT, BECAUSE IT’S COLD IN GEORGIA!
But really. I’m excited to get out of Morocco for awhile, to hang out in a country about which I know next to nothing. See a good pal, trade some good stories, go somewhere completely random and improbable. I AM SCARED AND EXCITED. On this side of this trip, things like change trains once to get to the airport sound terrifyingly complex, and the idea of traveling by myself, a white western unaccompanied woman, sounds even scarier. So, put in equal parts Scared Shitless and Excited as Hell and you’ve got the Traveling cocktail brewing in the pit of my stomach right now, as my blue carpetbag sits packed at the foot of my bed.
Also, I’m going to be spending the week wearing what might possibly be the biggest crime spree against fashion since Aaron Carter’s hair: lots of boots & harem pants. At least I’ll be comfortable.
…And have way better hair.
Also also, I just checked the weather in Batumi and Tblisi. I might need to borrow another jacket, Ernie, if you have one. I’m glad I packed Cameron’s hat.
Okay, it’s two in the morning now. I’m going to sleep. Spring break:go to the coldest motherf**king country you can think of. Great idea, Brain. F**k off and enjoy the last few hours of not-being-cold.
Peace, everyone. Wish me luck! HERE I GO! NEXT STOP, EVERYWHERE!