If I Were Really Free to Move About the Globe

I am a continentally well-traveled citizen. Over various road trips and relocations, I have seen a nice chunk of the purple mountains, the amber grain and the shining seas. Other than a few hours spent south of the border and a quick visit to the Bahamas, this girl has never gone international- in the grand sense of the term. No plans have been set in stone to study abroad or make any other passport-required ventures. This does not hinder frequent dreaming of my turn on the London Eye (no matter how outrageously priced the admission) or my maiden gondola voyage. Money, time and my irrational flying anxiety aside, these are some dots on the globe I’d want to expand upon:

Kenya, Africa.

Instead of traveling further south to revel in post-World Cup splendor, I’d land north. While Kenya has a plethora of indigenous wildlife and pristine beaches to boast of, this trip would have a different purpose. I’ll always remember the day in my high school psychology class when my teacher’s stepdaughter came in to give a presentation on an organization she and a few friends had established, Flying Kites. The non-for-profit aims to improve care and education of orphaned children in Nairobi and surrounding areas.

The group recently opened the Flying Kites Kinangop Children’s Center, a new facility outside of the urban slums where orphans can live safely and thrive. Flying Kites also raises money so children whose parents have passed can live with other family members without financial burden. The day of the in-class presentation, the representative showed video clips from her time spent in one of the orphanages and, like most pay-it-forward occurrences, this was a call to action. I signed up that day for the FK e-mail list, and continue to get the occasional newsletter. Someday I’ll get to Kenya, see the beach, the wildlife, and help the cause.

Goa, India.

Most people hear “Goa” and think I’ve tacked an unnecessary “a” onto a common verb. Up until I was fourteen I would’ve thought similarly. In the midst of my freshman year of high school, I relocated from south Florida to New Jersey. The transition was made easier by welcoming faces that would turn into unshakeable friends. One such face belonged to a girl who, while having lived in the States since she was four, hailed from a beachside paradise called Goa. Located on the western coast of India, this formerly Portuguese-owned territory has become a hidden resort destination for global tourists. This slice of the Arabian Sea coastline has all the proper tropical accessories: caves, waterfalls, nightlife and plenty of testaments to some lesser-known Indian history. From what I’ve heard, it takes at least three flights to get there, but its exotic charm makes it worth the schlep.

Paris, France.

Although French is not the language I pursued throughout my education, I am quite the Francophile. French cinema, French pastries, the tone of the language- I admire it all from across the pond. This trip would need to be an extended stay for me to soak in as much as possible. There are the obvious sites to see: the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe. Add to that Jim Morisson’s grave, the Moulin Rouge, and various days and nights spent traipsing down the Avenue Montaigne. With luck, I will find a job waitressing in a café, stealing garden gnomes and sending my soulmate on a wild chase throughout the city to find me. (This last wish, while immensely desired, may have been influenced by a recent viewing of Amelie.)