I'm still not in Australia yet. Soon, though. Less than a week. It hasn't dawned on me yet-- the immensity of the length of my stay, the duration of my flight, the incredible sights I'll behold, the intriguing people I'll meet, the utter exhaustion I will undergo, the pain I'll enjoy and the pleasure I'll endure -- all in the name of something I'm on the verge of beginning: Adventure. Life as it is intended for me. Life lived in such a manner that it is challenging and uncomfortable, but infinitely valuable. And sacred.

What brings on these thoughts? My last two days of travel to and from Charlottesville, that's what. To explain, on Monday I intended to ride with a friend to UVA, go to my appointment, pick up my car which was supposed to be finished, go to lunch with Matt and then head back home that night stopping in DC for dinner with Alina. Unfortunately, that didn't happen-- the car would not start.

After about an hour of tearing my hair, gnashing my teeth and weighing my other options (not to mention giving my parents hell!), I was forced to stay overnight. This was of course not a bad thing to undergo, because time spent in Charlottesville is always well spent these days.

Waking the next morning (Tuesday), I began my adventure of experiencing a great variety of life's small gifts in a short span of time. The trip was fun-filled and excitement-packed, filled with chattering and reading, good news and bad news, adoration and utter repulsion. Here's what happened:

I bought myself a Greyhound ticket to Union Station in DC, got breakfast with Pete and headed to the station. I intended to keep my engagement with Alina, a day late, so I planned to purchase my Amtrak ticket once I found out when dinner would be. I would arrive in Philadelphia at around 10:30 if all went according to plan. The interesting moments:

1. I got into an argument with the Greyhound salesman when I picked up my ticket over whether the bus line had the authority to preach "responsibility" to its customers through online and gift ticket fees. Apparently, Mom and Dad can't buy me a ticket for my trip home without paying a $15 "gift fee." And, I'm not responsible if I get stuck in Charlottesville without the proper means to pay for my own bus ticket. And, I'm lazy for not coming down to the office (where there's no parking) to buy my ticket in person in order to save the $4 convenience charge.

2. Entertaining tired people is a challenging task. Some people are as dull as bricks, but you still find yourself enduring conversation for the pure misery of it. Or maybe because it would be more miserable to ignore them and turn back to the book you were just reading. But when all is said and done, you come out of it with a friend. He offered to help me find my way to Union Station via the quicker Metro if I got off the bus early. I politely declined, saying I'd already purchased my Greyhound ticket and was not in a particular rush.

3. Bad news takes awhile to sink in. It still hasn't yet. All I have is a quiet sense of pain and an ounce of dread. I'll say no more.

4. There is something wrong with a world in which you come to expect to encounter people with strange motives for their actions. When one finds genuine reality, one is wary. How could someone so real and straightforwardly honest, polite and kind actually exist? one asks herself. He must have reasons for saying the things he does, and taking the interest he did. Should I give him my email address? Should I tell him my full name? Should I trust him? The situation I speak of is the rendezvous I had with a man from Ghana after my brick-like friend removed himself from the train and I speculated on his coming and going from my life like a slight breeze. This Ghanian, Joseph, was undoubtably truthful in the answers he provided, honest in the questions he asked, and genuine in his desire to show hospitality to a friend in Ghana. Yet I found myself wondering just how much to trust a man I meet on a Greyhound bus! How absurd! Of course I fully trust him, but I could not let it escape my mind that maybe... just MAYBE something might happen. It of course frustrated me because not long ago I had a similar revelation while watching Crash; that of the strangeness of the laissez-faire attitude I felt while watching Matt Dillon fondle Thandie Newton in an early scene and the complete waterfall of tears that happened when the same man saved the same woman from sure death in a car accident. Why did I not cry for the repulsive scene and utterly break down for the wholesome scene of rescue? Why was the happiness so overwhelming and the greusomeness so unfeeling? Shouldn't I be in tears because of the ugliness that was shown on screen and beaming about the beauty of the rescue? And back to this Ghanian, shouldn't I be trusting of someone so genuine, instead of skeptical that it's all just a very good act?

5. One can have a positive view of humanity, but it can be shattered in an instant. I got off the train feeling somewhat tired, but generally happy with the quality of people I'd met and the things I'd seen on the Virginian country roads. However, the city turned out to be another story. The Metro turned into Hell on earth: pushing shoving ignoring blocking impatience! The handicapped woman could not get through the crowd to get on a train. Everyone ignored all sense of allowing those who'd been waiting to board the delayed metro. People pushed together and cursed. And, when I finally boarded the train, I sensed something touching me. Hoping it was just someone's bag and not some sicko's hand on my ass, I shifted position and another man moved to take my position. Two stops later, I heard another college aged girl loudly say, "Would someone please take their hand off my ass?!" Looking over, I saw what I hoped I wouldn't: the same man who'd stood close to me perched right behind her.

6. The solace of isolation. Refuge in one's own world where one can retain the beauty of the world in all its glory, with a holiness not to be shared with a soul, mostly for fear of misunderstanding.

Sigh... travel teaches many things. In the words of my travel companion, Caroline, "I think we'll learn a lot on this trip. It's going to be incredible."

I'm pretty sure I'm on the verge of getting many many lessons. I'm not sure I'm ready for them, but that makes me even more eager to go! Still, if it's anything like the past two days, it'll be exhausting!!