I’ve finally arrived. I haven’t yet arrived at my residence, a farm in the western part of this island, but that’s just the place I’ll be living in for November. December will be different, and January … So it seems that the floor that my bags are on isn’t so important; I’m here.
It’s funny though, I can’t quite feel that I’ve accomplished this goal. Is getting on an airplane with a good amount of stuff and with no plans to go back any time soon sufficient to say I’ve moved here? It seems that the next few weeks is when the real moving happens. As I learn to navigate this new culture rather than just exist in it for a short while – that will be completion of this goal. Perhaps once my tourist visa has run out … then I’ll be “living” here, yes?
Or maybe not. 90 days in my passport wasn’t my choice – it’s just a stamp I received when I walked through the airport. I’m living; I’m here; what more do I need?