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“So how long will you be there again?” Paris inquired as she tentatively stirred her pot. “A month?” I nonchalantly responded. In my mind however, I was racing. This would be my first trip out of the country without anyone from my family. I had just lost my cell phone, and I would depart for Costa Rica in less than 24hrs. I used Paris’ phone to simply explain to my mother that she had no reason to worry about my travels because I was with my Fisk Family and I was safe. That night I never went to sleep and I must have talked Paris and Lindsay to death with my dreams, hopes, fears but worst of all anxiety. I had flight fright. On May 10, 2011, I conquered my fear and submerged my entire being into a wanderlust spirit. As I traveled from Nashville to Houston to San Jose, I felt my heart being recharged by every turn of the rotor as I lifted off. In Houston, I joked with Ivan about my anxiety and he asked had I just looked out the window. He switched seats with me so that I could get the full window seat experience when we descended to the lush and picturesque view of Costa Ricas’ pacific coast. Despite the occasional jolts and surprising stammering of the engine, I began to feel something I had not felt before. I began to feel weightless...even free. After I settled into the city life of the Guadalupe barrio, I found myself constantly attracted to the beauty of the city life. I would celebrate my 20th birthday. I would fall in love with the Doca Coffee estates. I had a greater appreciation for the chorreador and the simplicity of brewing coffee. I would experience both the urgency and the power of a 5.8 earthquake. I would experience piratas without boats but tiptoed through the hills of Jaco. I fell in love with the constant downpour of their spring. Despite that I still felt free. Maybe it was the constant greenery and the openness of the hills, the way the water would slip through the cracks of the rocks exposing the beauty of natural cascading waterfalls. Maybe it was the lightness in the demeanor of all of the ticos who had a deep love for their country or the fact that Costa Rica was relatively a peaceful country who had no military interest. To be a tourist was a time where I could for once experience the lives of others without the constant urgency of my own. From the simple leap of studying abroad in Costa Rica, I was able to completely immerse myself in the beauty, danger and the vibrancy of another culture. When I experienced moments of uncertainty, I would think back to that millisecond.That millisecond where your heart and your stomach somehow collide with the gravitational pull of the Earth when you fly. Or when you are in an earthquake. Or you finally got your eyeliner winged right, just to get stuck in a torrential rainstorm. A month is not nearly enough when you have fallen in love. I did not fall in love with a country, or a person, but a feeling. A feeling of freedom.