What I wrote in My Notebook: Ze Start

When walking into an airport, the most interesting section of the airport is the international flight terminal. The first thing I notice is the kind of people that surround me, most of them foreign or first generation Americans that are all bustling around you. And whatever flights are during that time, it determines what part of the world these people are most likely from. Which is self-explanatory. Also whenever I arrive, I have this obscure urge to speak in a language that those around me most likely would never of heard of. It feels almost trendy, and after I feel guilty to use the rarely spoken tongue of my mother's, knowing that I cannot claim true testament and ownership of what should be my native tongue.

I always thought that traveling alone would actually give me a sense of importance and maturity but as I ventured around airports by myself, I realized that there really is no time to self indulge and pat myself on the back. Even having hours to spend on a airplane, I think how comfortable it is to be sucked up into my own little world where knowing is really going on except that I have to eat this candy that is in my bag. It all feels natural. Except the only thing dampening this peace is my constant running nose, my sore throat and my temporary deafness. I am left to think about my landing and how un-pleased I am that I have to see family, because at this point in time I would rather just sleep, even on the floor if that is possible.

Also what I have noticed traveling by myself is that I am more prone to get lost, or just feel bedazzled by the fact that I have no idea where I am going.
Example: Frankfurt airport, instead of actually knowing where to go I was confused by the fact that there was a railing to take me to the terminal, which then led me to a huge main court, where the arrow that is meant to direct me to my terminal was leading me into a men's suit store. In all honesty I felt that I had no purpose to be in the men's suit store. I've never felt comfortable in men suit stores because I get a sense that this store is way too fancy, that they actually customize a suit to fit your body. Oh the joys of what manufactured retail has done to my sense of perception.

Though back to going to Bosnia, I am scared shitless. Of what_ I am not entirely sure. Being in Slovenia already made me feel awkward, because I felt idiotic asking whether I am suppose to go through the metal detector. I truly wish that I will be able to speak more adequately in Bosnian and get rid of my American accent (which has helped me create nonexistent and new phrases in Bosnian). It's even sad to consider myself Bosnian when I can't even speak correctly. I should just dub myself an American, a Yankee- someone who is attempting to be more cultured but is actually not even close. I have become a sad panda.

End of Day 1