Kia Ora,

I have been working on a new poem, clearly influenced heavily by Walt Whitman. Working an homage toward the greatest free verse poet ever is quite the task. But I have been trying and I felt I could share what I have so far. Work in progress, but I think I can see where it’s going. Ironically, I wrote this after watching a pulp horror French film, but hey, inspiration hits when it hits. I hope you enjoy.

Clayton

Beauty in Form

Beauty!
The chest, full
A barrel to rest a weary head!

Kia Ora!

“Ella es Ella,” my host family, smirking, says, introducing me to their friends and family. My name, Ella (El-La),  in spanish ella (eh-ya), means she.  This is nothing new, ex: attendance in every spanish class I’ve ever taken. I was a bit peeved that in my home for the month I was she, her. In reality, my annoyance was mainly based in my having become the Ecuadorian equivalent of  ”her?” in Arrested Development. Her? Ella?

As someone who has rarely traveled abroad, packing for 4 months was quite difficult. I realized buying the biggest luggage was a huge mistake. Though a big luggage allows for more room, this quite often leads to an overweight luggage. This is exactly what happened when I was checking in my luggage at the airport. My luggage was at 75 pounds and though I lowered the weight to 70 pounds, United Airlines charged me $225.00 for an overweight luggage.

“And if travel is like love, it is, in the end, mostly because it’s a heightened state of awareness, in which we are mindful, receptive, undimmed by familiarity and ready to be transformed.” –Pico Iyer

Settled in the north Styrian Alps, myself and 120-something other college students got our first taste of the wonder that awaits us in these next four months. Powering through mind-numbing jet lag, we mixed and matched into groups that would travel, dine, wine, and explore the city together. The long days were filled with exploration of Mariazel, Erlaufsee, and ourselves as we came the closest ever to the realization that this was real; that we were in Austria, about to embark on the journey of our lives.

A little over one year ago I was standing in the middle of the medina in the fabled Moroccan city of Marrakech. I was the typical tourist, swirling around snapping photos of everything in sight – the snake charmers mystifying onlookers, performers juggling lit torches, apes resting on the shoulders of their caretakers and more.

Suddenly the summer is gone and I am in an airport on my way to Amsterdam. There is no terrible anxiety like last time I studied abroad, just a calm, ready Sofia. After a summer of lots of communication, within my family, my friends, my clients at work, and myself, I feel ready for a 120 days of not living in Chicago or Northfield. I am ready for this jet lag and the discomfort that comes with being in a completely different place.