Leaving Home

I think that leaving home for the first time is often one of the funniest and potentially one of the most insightful topics that can be brought up in a conversation. Often you hear about stories of staying up to 5 in the morning every day, gaining the freshman 15, or even experiences of dealing with crazy people that you never had to deal with before. My first time moving out was actually when I left on my mission. Going into the Missionary Training Center didn’t really feel like I left yet, so I will talk about when I REALLY left, which was January 26^th, 2012. The night before we left the MTC was an exciting time, like going on your first date….well at least the feeling was the same. I did not know what Australia would be like, and it didn’t help that I wasn’t sure if my language abilities were up to par, or if I was going in over my head. It was in the middle of the winter in Utah, and the next day we set off for the airport to fly to LA, then hopped on our 14 hour flight to Brisbane. Getting off the plane that day was like walking into a sauna in the middle of winter in a suit and tie. Have you ever been in a sauna in a suit and tie? I wouldn’t recommend it. That day was a nightmare! The airport lost one of my bags I LA, I got yelled at by the first Chinese person that I contacted (yes, she was old), I couldn’t sleep because our next door neighbors were blasting their Indian music, and on top of that it was probably 90 degrees that night. I had one of those, “What the heck am I doing here?!” moments. Everything smelled tropical and slightly moldy, and I knew at once that this was going to be a rough adjustment physically. I wanted to die! Anyway, life went on, my body slowly adjusted, and Brisbane became my home, and a place that I love. That experiences sticks in my memory like gum sticking to the bottom of your shoe, and it is one that I will always be dear to me!