Friday, March 10, 2017
Getting Ready to Visit My Son Who Is in the Peace Corps in the Jungle of Panama
Twenty four hours from now I will be on a plane to Panama. Before trips like this I tend to get jitters about all the things I will likely forget. You know: fingernail clippers, batteries for the headlamp, essential oils for jock itch. My mind goes into "How will I survive without all my stuff?" mode. As a first-world material boy, I balk at the prospect of being without, living on third world offerings. Yes, we will eat rice, beans, and peppers. I might even be hungry once in a while. And I might get a bit sick. But I have my Cipro, health insurance, and a plane ticket home. I have to remember that this sense of entitlement is a luxury few (in terms of percentage of the world's population) can afford. So tighten your belt, pilgrim, and suck it up for a couple of weeks. Very likely you will survive, if not learn something about real life, a hard lesson in the way things are.