My brother and I had just touched down in Pelso Airport in Zagreb, Croatia after about a ten hour wait in Munich, Germany. The tiles in the airport was glistening from the morning sunlight. It kind of woke me up a bit. As if it was the shock of hearing the alarm clock at 6:00 am to get ready for school. Feeling as if we were sleepwalking just dragging our suitcases behind us to be filled with awe. The streets seemed as if they’ve been mopped down making it spotless. The trees looking content surrounded us. Seeming to grip the shimmering grass, and though fast rooted they seem to travel as far overseas as we did. As if they followed us. My heart was throbbing with life and music, every beat thrilling like guitar strings, while the essence was flowing from the flowers beneath it. It wasn’t anything new to me since I have been here before to visit my family but somehow every time I come the same sensation and anticipation comes right back. Left our native California a day before. Where the dazzling colors of the sunsets at beach were. Where you would see the palm trees sway and hear the tourist sliding the rolling glass doors of the beach side hotels. This all in its own way is an admirable artistic scenery.

I was nine and a half years old and my brother and I were spending two years overseas. It all started, nonetheless, when my parents decided on a whim of a decision to let me experience the same city as they once had. My mother told me not to be uneasy about frivolous stuff such as the shape of the milk cartoons to its sour taste. She said that after a while everything I will become accustomed to the countries way of living. My brother had adjusted much more quickly than I had. Nothing seemed out of place to him, even his new school. And after allowing so time I have learned to adjust much more quickly to situations. I have learned to adapt and hearing the pounding of the Cathedral’s church bells would put me at ease. The sound charged me with both excitement and awe that I felt when I came. I treasure every moment of it.

If I lived in the same place and lived there long enough I would not have been able to travel freely with my family between countries. The countries changed me through its fantasying culture by being exposed to something valuable and new that should be treasured. The treasure is in the whole story through this experience. It’s a small price to pay- and escape to more travel is only click away. My travels have only begun. The pleasure of nowhere is that it’s already there which can be anywhere. My flexibility with situations comes from traveling. I look forward to going about anywhere. Whether its down the block, back again to visit Santa Monica, Croatia’s boarding countries such as Italy, or even to my grandmother’s house. I am a nomad. I am a expatriate. I am a traveler. And I am loving every minute of it.