I read somewhere that every cells are replaced in our body every 7 years, so in a way, every 7 years we’re a new person. But are we really? We grow and we change, but how much of that is real change and how much of who we are is the same? Every time I’ve moved, or started a new job, or met a new person, is a new opportunity to redefine myself, to make that first impression. And while we do change, to an extent, through growth and experience, how much do we really change?
If You’re Reading This, I’m Still Here
This week was tough. Mentally, emotionally and physically. There were moments where I flung up my arms because I just didn’t care any more. There were moments where inside I wanted to cry but I kept it together and kept it moving. There were moments where I had to drag my limbs to take that next step and to keep it going. This week was tough. But I made it. I’m here. If you’re reading this, I’m still here. Hopefully still kicking butt and taking names, but if not, you can bet your bottom dollar that I’m giving it my all and I’ll eventually get there.
The Tears That Did Not Fall
A month ago I was packing my bags for what I know was the biggest adventure I’ve had to date. A month later, I’m sitting at the Thessaloniki Airport, enjoying my last bit of genuine Greek food, waiting to take the second of seven flights to eventually get me back home to Portland, OR. Once I get back to Portland on Monday, I have 4.5 days to catch up on what I’ve missed, pack up what I need, and say my farewells as I leave for San Francisco on Saturday for 5.5 weeks of training. Yes, it’s a crazy schedule. Yes, I chose to do it this way. No, I don’t regret it (at least not yet).
I’m Glad I’m Here
Someone asked me last week, “How is your volunteer trip going?” I’ve been quiet. Not because I have nothing to say, trust me–there’s a lot that’s been happening, but more so because there hasn’t been as much time to sit and write. Or I’m simply too exhausted to. Or more often than not, there’s so much to say and share, I struggle with where to start.
Change, Coincidence and Focus
Blogging is tough for me to do. It’s something I want to do more often and on a regular basis but it requires time and thought and effort and energy that sometimes, much of the time, I just can’t, and sometimes won’t, muster up. I have tons of half-written blog posts floating around in my head that I just didn’t make the time to sit down and write out. I honestly hope to get back to those half-baked mental blog posts and write them down at some point–one day, someday. When I write, it’s for a number of reasons.
Day 0 and Day 1
As I was telling you last night before I drifted off into deep sleep (melatonin, you are helping me kick jetlag’s butt like no one’s business!), I had the option of taking it easy yesterday and acclimating, or checking out the camp and helping out. I wanted to do something so I opted to head to Moria camp to finally see with my own eyes the camp that I heard so much about. This black barn right here is the Moria Medical Clinic that’s run by Offtrack Health, and where I’ll be spending most of my time. I’m what they call a floor manager–I’m responsible for intake of patients, crowd control, recording notes and anything else in between. I stopped by yesterday to see the clinic, meet some people and just get the lay of the land. And to buy a local SIM card nearby.
So It Begins
All my bags are packed, (I think) I’m ready to go…Singing that song is how I woke up my roommate this morning at 4:15am to drive me to the airport. (Best roomie ever–for taking me to the airport, and not hitting me for singing.) I, myself, woke up after my second of five alarms went off at 4:05am after an hour of sleep, with the lights on, because I was terrified that I wouldn’t wake up. Anyone else have that fear or just me? Today was the day. I was starting the long journey to Lesvos to volunteer at the refugee camps.
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