The Croc's Out of the Bag

I have now told just about everyone in my life about my upcoming journey to Australia in less than 2 months time. Opinions have varied but they are generally positive. My family is supportive if not a little taken aback by my choice. My friends are always supportive, and hopefully enough to get on a plane and visit me while I am down-under. Apparently, even the NCO’s (non-commissioned officers) in my friend Jon’s battalion are jealous of my decision, of course that may not count, as they are currently fighting a war and I am sure any option probably seems more appealing…

My boss’ reaction, on the other hand, was a surprise to me. Understandably so, I found myself nervous before telling her the news of my soon-to-be journey and my imminent departure. I wanted to give her a month’s notice, but do to unforeseen circumstances I was only able to give her three weeks and two days notice. However even past all that, her first words (after I apprehensively spoke my plan) were, “Adam, that’s wonderful.” She quickly congratulated me on my adventure, gave me some advice on how to keep my resume up-to-date while I was in the Land of Oz, and pretty much gave me no further trouble about my decision. As I sit here writing, I leave my job in three weeks and I am not only being paid for my unused vacation time, but I am leaving with a very nice letter of recommendation and even a farewell lunch. Suddenly, I almost feel sad to leave my job, though I know that for many reasons it is time for me to move onto my next phase of life.

However, what I did not anticipate is the nervousness that would come from breaking this last final binding tie. Everything is surprisingly real now. In less than 60 days I will be boarding a plan, (amidst what I can only assume will be humiliating and dehumanizing strip search tactics employed by the TSA in order to ascertain that I am indeed not a terrorist on my way to wage holy war against Australia… if the current news is any indication of travel conditions), and will endure a grueling 25-hour flight to the driest continent in the world. (This is why I will try to avoid the airline peanuts on the flight over, as I am hoping to retain as much body water as possible) Bottom line is: What if something goes wrong? I will be stepping out into a completely unfamiliar country and be expected to spend the next 8-months to a year fending for myself with only  my own wits. This seems a lot like sending a man into battle armed with only a pen-knife.

It is ironic that now, that everyone is aware of my plans and are all being very supportive and happy about my decision, that I have begin to have my own fears... Like crocodiles... Did I mention that the saltwater crocodile is one of the deadliest animals in Australia? Even Aussies are afraid of them… and according to the stereotypes I learned in the media, Aussies aren’t afraid of much… People strolling along the shore on vacation have been known to be snatched screaming beneath the waves before they even realize what happened. They are not uncommon too as my research (and by that I mean Bill Bryson's research) seems to indicate there have been 150 incidents over the past century... I am willingly heading towards this country?

I know in that dim part of my heart that what I am expressing now is only nerves, which they would say is only natural and part of life. Of course, I wonder if they would also say the same thing about being eaten by a croc.