My Great Escape:
Light at the End of the Tunnel
Natalie Kardum
It is a little freaky when I think about how fast things are moving. I am a planner. I like to know where I'm going, what I'm doing, how I'm going to get there and what to expect when I arrive, where I'll by my groceries and where the nearest pub is located. Don't get me wrong, I do love the spontaneity, At least I tell myself that.
Maybe I'm a liar.
Little by little things come together. Since my initial article regarding the great move, some lovely things have happened. I have found a place to live in a nice little neighborhood (or so I'm told!) in South London (with a flat-mate) and expect to have a pleasant holiday two weeks before my arrival. I have made a friend via email, and we have a date at a pub and a couple of pints. Already I have created a social life in a city I have yet to move to. I have learned that, in the UK, resumes are printed on A4 paper, so happily I reformatted my CV and my variety of cover letters. My tickets are booked. And I have spent hours and hours marveling over the cheap flights on the Ryan Air website, planning my first weekend getaway, wherever it may be.
Yet something tugs at me; a little voice of anxiety whispering in my ear like an annoying backseat driver. I am stuck between two worlds: that of a carefree adventurer and that of a neurotic spazz forever anticipating the worst that could happen.
The truth of the matter is anything can happen, and once anything happens, you have to roll with it. Says World-Traveler Girl. Whilst typing this, my neurotic side is making a mental note of all things that might go wrong and drawing up another list on how to prepare myself for the unknown, including emergency numbers and websites I may need to refer to.
There is this one part of me that embraces the unknown; the word 'plan' is just another four-letter word. I'm thrilled with the thought of landing in Heathrow, hopping on the tube with no idea as to where I'm going to sleep that night, with nothing planned for work, and not even knowing where I'm going to find a pan to fry my eggs in the morning. The other part of me is frantically getting mentally prepared, with huge Excel spreadsheets of all the companies I plan to apply to for work, all the while looking at a tube map trying to plan possible routes to each potential interview, reminding myself that I don't want to get to the interview too early so as not to look desperate, but do not want to arrive just on time as I don't want to appear tardy. Neurotic little me.
This week, my prepared self made numerous doctors' appointments to not only make sure last minute I did not have cancer (negative) or have a cavity (positive) but also to take advantage of the medical benefits my current employer provides me. The usual small chat with the dental hygienist or receptionist goes a little something like this:
"Well Natalie! What's new?"
"Oh, not much. I'm moving overseas."
"Sounds exciting! Where to?"
"London!"
"Oh God, I hear that city is so expensive!"
Yes. Thank you. Because that never crossed my mind at all. I do realize that my savings here will be cut in half once I'm there. Then, of course, I spend the next 5 minutes defending my decision, saying how living in Vancouver is not cheap either, and will get more expensive during the Olympics, and prices are comparable between each city. Which is true. In addition to my argument, I point out how inexpensive it can be to travel within Europe, and how pricey it is in our country. So there.
My great big move is bringing out the best and worst of me: the carefree traveler who will drink until 4am at a pub, catch a plane at 7am, having to find a place to crash in a completely different country with a slight hangover, and then the girl who goes through her cover letter and CV with a fine-toothed comb, while simultaneously running through interview scenarios in her head. This is the same girl who will feverishly save up all her money to have a cushion for "just in case", but then pull out her credit card to make sweet love to cash registers. One day I'm nervous; the next I could not care less and know the universe will provide me with a crazy plan and I'll have a good story to tell everyone back home.
I have asked myself many times what is pushing me to move halfway across the world, thereby losing any sense of security I may have created for myself the past few years. And I'm not speaking about security in the sense of money, but the security of my city which I have grown to know and love, with my friends and family who are always so near. It's not just moving to a new environment to have new things to look at, and being able to travel to countries so much closer together than here. I suppose people like myself, who have this incredible desire to move around and explore, have a void they are always seeking to fill. I realized this when I thought, well, I finally have a job that pays decently (with benefits!); I've got the friends and the family; I get to do the things I like to do on my time off… yet is it still not quite enough . I could own a place here and have a fabulous career, but I still would be missing out on an experience I don't think I will find here.
It is possible nothing will unfold the way I think it will. That is not necessarily a bad thing at all. Many things that I have pictured in my head have been that much more amazing once I decided to experience it in real life. When I realize this, the nervousness and constant mental lists in my head seem to melt away. The preparation can be the most daunting part of it. However, at this point, there is a plane ticket with my name on it, and in a short month, I'll be at my destination.