Friday, December 31, 2010

In Transit

A lot of people go travelling to find themselves. And while I didn't set out to do quite that, I have learnt a very valuable fact about myself over the past 38 odd hours: I am exactly as good a sleeper as I thought. Seriously, long haul flights are basically the devil in a plane suit.
After 31 hours in transit, eight of which was dedicated almost exclusively to snoozing on horrible faux-leather airport lounge seats in full view of total strangers, I have arrived at my final destination.
Admittedly my London welcome was somewhat softened by the multiple glasses of New Years champagne I was plied with on my arrival, but it's still strange to think that this is it. I know nobody here. The family I'm living with - the ones who have entrusted the safety of their small children to me - have gained pretty much all their information about me via the wonderful world of facebook. And while I'm (clearly) all for the whole social media, global village business...really? I mean c'mon guys, I could honest to god be a serial killer here and you wouldn't know. It's not like I'm going to put that up on my profile now, am I? ("I'm into... murders and executions").
Then again, my agreeing to take this au pair position has been an equally large leap of faith. After all, being sold as a sex slave isn't something I'm looking to put on my resume anytime soon.
This evening I walked into the room that I'm going to live in for the next 12 months, with my whole life condensed into 20kg or less, and was faced with the realisation that this is not home. But giving up the security of everything and everyone I know also means gaining a completely clean slate. There is nobody here who has even the slightest preconception about me. I could be whoever I liked.
Nothing like a new beginning.
Happy new year.