In Nicaragua, mind reeling, dreaming in Spanish, consuming lots of gallo pinto and coffee. But amidst the new, I´ve received news from home of a classmate´s death and a tragedy in a close friend´s family, and I´m wondering whether I shouldn´t return to the states to be with my loved ones. Going on a Nicaraguan adventure seems, somehow, vapid.

I´m enjoying myself here. I´m doing exactly what I want – learning Spanish and taking life, finally, at a slower pace. I´m talking with people, hanging out, eating great food.

And now there´s a lot of trepidation wrapped up in these experiences. I feel selfish now for just going off to do my own thing. What if, like Jamie and her husband Will, I die in a car crash? Wouldn´t I rather be in a place where my loved ones could immediately be notified?

Instead of travelling solo and bumping up against barriers at every turn, wouldn´t I rather be in a relationship, or in a place where an old friend is just around the corner? Wouldn´t I rather have a family, a house, somewhere warm to rest instead of bedbuggy bunks and a bucket shower outside in the rain? Wouldn´t I rather establish my own home rather than constantly adapt to others´?

I know I´m living my dream, but I wonder if I shouldn´t have something more solid to catch me.

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