Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Exodus

Note: Sorry this is late. Getting into the country, getting our papers in order, starting our jobs, finding an apartment, and not having internet have all contributed to the tardiness of this entry. Sorry. With our own internet will come regularity. Until then, bare with us. Enjoy.





     We were a bit afraid as we rode to IAH, well anxious at least. By now we were at cruising altitude somewhere over New York when everything came to us.  I had to stop eating my dinner to let myself soak in this inevitable realization. We had been striving, dreaming and saving for one specific event, and suddenly we sat there staring at the manifestation of our aspirations, the mountain we were supposed to climb. Subtly daunting would be the best way to explain our situation. How do you go from one place that you’ve lived your entire life, say “screw it” and leave? I guess the answers lie somewhere within Cathi and I’s attitudes. Or maybe personalities? Or aspirations? Pinpointing the why is both impossible and unnecessary at this point, I guess.  We were en route with a now used up one-way, and apprehensively ecstatic about it all. For two young married folk, we were ‘all in’ on this Spain hand we had dealt ourselves. This opportunity could be the springboard to our careers or a cannonball into the shallow end.  We had leaped through the right bureaucratic hoops and played jump rope with the miles of red tape in securing our visas. The hard part was done…right? All that lay ahead of us was finding a place to live in a foreign city, opening bank accounts using a language we don’t entirely grasp, staying afloat financially for a month with only the money we had saved (appreciate that one, Spanish government), and starting a brand new job with only passive guidance on our tasks. Easy enough.  Oddly, though, those stark details seemed to slip though the mind’s cracks unnoticed for a few seven hours or so. I looked back at my lukewarm dinner and decided instead that I’d rather finish my shrink-wrapped salad, then try to con another beer from the drink cart attendant before I attempt sleeping. It was impossible to keep a slight grin from my face, none of it mattered now: we’re going to live in Spain.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Prologue


"A Dream Made Reality Beyond Compare"; the uninspired slogan would never have garnered my attention had it not been for that tiresome wait in a Costa Rican airport.  Cathi and I were both waiting when that fiendish camera poked its face out of her purse and into my outstretched arms. We moved together and smiled. It wasn't until we got back from that trip that we saw that phrase in the background of our impromptu portrait. Its hollow words resonated louder as we returned from a week of job searching in Costa Rica. As eager young fiances, we discovered our future in teaching abroad along the way of this trip. It was the perfect marriage of our collective passions. Teaching, traveling, living. A way to do what we love. On this Central American journey of ours we failed to get a job, but found that our dream could be turned into our reality. Fate seemed to have given us a subtle, though cheesey, go ahead.



This blog's attempt is to reflect the trials, triumphs, mood, and motivations of two young newlyweds as we begin a life. This isn't merely an attempt at a travel blog; other people have been to more exotic locales more often. It isn't solely an open diary of newlywed life either, as posts covering checkbook balancing and laundry could end up being a formidable substitute for Ambien. No, this collection of thoughts and adventures is a sort of hybrid mutt, stuck somewhere amid the plains of topics that head our way. We write to update, explain, and maybe even entertain as two young teachers start their careers. Cathi and I head to Spain with two bags apiece and a lifetime ahead of us.