The three months elapsed in a flash. Like any trip, there were ups and downs, laughs and frowns; Times when I wanted to jump with joy, and times when I wanted to bash the nearest person in the face with a heavy object.
I was a million miles out of my comfort zone. No friends, no car, no bedroom or TV. No home comforts whatsoever. I was mercilessly chucked into the wilderness for 8 days at a time, and forced to battle against difficult work conditions, uncomfortably hot desert weather, and insane solitude. While at the time I frequently felt exhausted and downright rotten, I gradually started to realise that stretching yourself beyond your limits is good for you. It challenges you to develop strength of character, and it helps you contemplate what's important to you in life.
Despite the difficulty of the job, there were numerous moments of pure comedy that I fondly recall whenever I feel like a laugh. By coincidence or not, the vast majority of these experiences took place on the public bus, where you are pretty much guaranteed a humorous encounter with a nutter at some point or another.
One aspect of the trip that falls under both the 'love' and 'hate' categories has to be American food. The choice of junk food available to you is so immense, that you're practically powerless to stop yourself from sampling as much as you can. The trouble is, it's not long before you're hooked on the stuff, and 'sampling' quickly turns into stuffing yourself sick. What baffled me was how Americans lived on this diet all their lives. After three short months, I was on the brink of exploding, and felt horrendously ashamed of myself for my lack of discipline. Had I stayed for an extra few months, they'd have had to cut through a wall to get me out of the house. I did eventually get a grip on my crap intake, but not until I had added an extra few kilograms to my weight. I don't even need to tell you how my bathroom habits changed...
If American food was a 'good side, bad side' thing, then American sport was an 'utter rubbish' thing. I suppose you could argue that, since I've been brought up on football (the real football, not that pads and helmet stuff), then nothing is ever truly going to compete. But the 'sport' in America is so tediously slow and mind-numbingly uneventful that you need drugs to stop yourself from falling asleep in your oversized hotdog.
Take American football, for instance. I went to watch the 'Superbowl', eager to witness huge athletes engage in some bone crushing action. What did we get? About 8 seconds of confusingly boring play for every 5 minutes of fast food adverts. That's what American sport seems to be about - the commercials in the middle. At times, I almost forgot that an important game was going on. Even basketball, a sport I thought I liked, proved to be hugely anticlimactic. I purchased tickets to a college game, but found myself looking up to the rafters more than I found myself actually following the action, which was anything but compelling.
If I'm giving off the impression that my time across the pond was dull and disappointing, then let me set things straight. It was an immeasurably positive experience, in which I learnt a great deal about nature, American culture, and myself. It presented me with the perfect opportunity to do exactly what I had wished - something productive and noble. And what's more, I had plenty of time to ponder about what my next steps in life should be.
There's something very fulfilling about going away on your own. It's like your first time out on the open road after you've got your licence. You might be a little anxious, and there might be dangers round a few corners, but ultimately, you're free, and you're actually doing it. I'd recommend it to anyone who's thinking of giving it a go!
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