Vacation's Over

I can tell when it's time to wrap up a trip; aside from the date on my return ticket. It's the little things that start piling up. I begin to run out of toiletries (and no, foreign replacements just don't cut it). My watch's battery has died and it's taking up space in the bottom of my bag. I start leaving things behind all over the place (I think I've accidentally left a small souvenir in every country). I start getting tired of staring at the same 5 shirts and two pairs of pants every morning. The once charming quirks of the road slowly turn into annoyances. And I start dreaming about everything I miss in America.

Traveling is like a two sided coin (um, not to be confused with those single sided coins going around today). On one side, exploring the world is one of the best things I've done with my life. The adventure and thrill of something new is addicting. I linger near maps and globes, imagining what journeys await me. Even now, after two months of traveling I caught myself staring at the world map in the back of the US Airways magazine, wondering what continent my life will take me to next. I learn something new everywhere I go and every trip leaves it's mark on me. Some marks are big, some are small, but they all help me build myself into the person I want to be.

But on the other side, the more I travel, the more I love America. Don't get me wrong, traveling wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable without the surprises that every new country brings. But what can I say, America has spoiled me. I've long since discovered that many of my life's essentials — say fruit or vegetables — are exotic and rare treats. I can't describe how reassuring it is to know that I can walk through an airport here and pick up a banana at nearly any convince shop (I spent nearly an hour in the Madrid airport this morning looking for fruit, any fruit, before finally finding some soggy, soft apples). I love that I can walk into a restaurant and be greeted with a smile and a pleasant hello, not a dirty scowl that wordlessly asks "what are you doing in my restaurant?"

Yes, I'm an American through and through. And very proud of it. And I can only hope that — in the same way that every journey leaves it's imprint on me — I leave some positive imprint from myself and America on someone who's path I've crossed. Yeah, it's a little self-centered to think like that. But when I think back through my travels I see that it's the people who make ordinary days special. It's people who teach me about life and about the world out there. It's people who show me what it really means to be a Kiwi, Spaniard, or a Moroccan. In return I do my best to show them what it means to be an American.