My plane takes off in less than five hours. I’m packed and ready to go. I’m waiting for a load of laundry to dry so I can put on what I’ll be wearing for the next 30+ hours: yoga pants, a CTU t-shirt (gotta rep the teachers’ union!), hoodie and rain coat. I need to layer up as the temperature here is 12 degrees Fahrenheit and where I’m going is 89 degrees; I can’t bring my Northface, knee-length, down coat.

I have so many emotions that it’s hard to decipher all of them…but I’ll try. I’m feeling excited, to say the least, about the adventure that lies ahead. I’m feeling a little anxious about the long journey there, but I also know that it will be over eventually. I’m feeling sad that I leave my family here in Chicago for two weeks before the join me. My girls are sad about it too – when they aren’t pre-occupied with their Legos, or dolls, or Netflix, of course. I keep telling them that they’ll be fine without me for two weeks – it also helps me to hear myself say that. I’m feeling grateful that I get to have this experience and grateful for the people who make it happen. I’m thankful for my supportive husband. I’m grateful to the friends who are staying in our house so we don’t have to worry about leaving it empty for 6 months. I’m grateful for the friends and family members who have reached out to me to express their support. I’m grateful to the Department of State and IIE for doing all of the heaving lifting for the entire program. (I hope it still exists under the new administration. Cross-cultural exchange with other countries is even more important with the pathetic, so-called ‘leader’ that we will have as president.)

It’s weird to know that this experience will be transformative in so many ways and yet not know exactly how I will be transformed by it. Like many other times in my life, I’m jumping in with full faith that everything will work out amazingly.