With only hours left in the States, I still cannot believe the drastic yet imminent change my life will undergo tomorrow. Even as I finished packing, checked my list countless times, said my goodbyes and relished my last homecooked meals, tomorrow feels eerily normal (says the guy who couldn't sleep several days before his SAT, college-orientation and MCAT). I suppose this unexpected serenity is a result of the years and years I've dreamt about someday going to Korea. I envisioned my family and I touring excitedly about the country with my siblings and I soaking up the culture and history like parched sponges, but circumstances repeatedly forbade us from doing so.
More and more, I'm realizing that life is all about taking initiative, seizing opportunities and embracing the omnipresent fear of failure. My Fulbright application can attest to that - I had learned about the Scholarship less than 3 months before the deadline, never had any experience with study abroad, was completely overwhelmed with med school secondaries and was months behind the hundreds of applicants across the nation who had begun their applications the previous spring. After mulling it over and talking to some friends and family, I decided to just go for it and take a shot in the dark despite the steep odds. I sit here now, about 8 months later, typing this blog the day before my flight out.
Sorry if this smells like a rant, but I can't help but appreciate the journey I took to get to this point (sweaty and surrounded by suitcases). Anyways, I want to say thank you for all the farewell calls, texts and love - they make the idea of traveling to the other side of the world alone a little less scary.
