This experience has been redefined through the ages. Another generation called it the “Dialed-in experience” relating to the moment when the numbers line up, the dial tone beeps once … twice …. thrice and you’re in. Runners have often referred to their “second wind” or breath of fresh air and energy coursing through the moving body. The messenger runner Pheidippides must have encountered a second wind; then a third; a fourth and so on when he ran for days to warn Greece of advancing armies. He exasperated his full potential; however, falling dead the moment his message had been delivered.
In a modernized era, I would redefine the experience yet again giving it the name “clicked-in.” The name derives from the need to fix, load, download, energize, and plug in the myriad of electronic appliances available in this time period. The click, beep, or other affirmative noise tells us “All systems are a go,” “Ay ay Capitain,” “Life is Good” and so on. In Montevideo, Uruguay, the word commonly used in these situations is “Ta” meaning “está bien” or “It’s good.” And I can finally say, with full confidence, Ta.
Only one month remains of my study abroad adventures but, Oh The Roads We Have Traveled. Branching out from the language barrier I have finally been able to experience some deeper, well thought conversations with the people around me. I have had debates about whether or not lions are superior to giraffes (not), whether girls can date guys shorter than them (possible), the social impacts of charity and the appropriate age for marriage (unsolved).
But one of the sweetest rewards for finally “clicking in” to my new culture is a newly enriched perspective. Not only can I rethink idiomatic variation but I can take on an external perspective of the United States. Being a U.S. citizen, (Travel Tip 013: Don’t lose your passport. Potentially, after a large amount of foreign culture immersion and late night parties, the only thing separating you from that guy on the bus audibly hissing at the bright light of the sun is the ID in your bag) I’m accustomed to a specific way of life: Fourth of July fireworks, vegetarian kabobs off the grill, sledding in the winter, the carrot nosed snow man, the orange capped oak in the fall, etc. By changing my customs, I have taken a momentary reprieve from my identity. I can plant a big, bulbous question mark on otherwise blank sheet of paper. I can fill in the missing spaces. I highly recommend that readers look for opportunities to do the same.
