A group of co-workers and I have had plans to go skydiving for months and as the day approached nervousness was not an emotion on my radar. I’ve done this before and was purely excited. We arrived for our 4 p.m. appointment and the sky was hazy, but still clear. As we were filling out paperwork a storm moved in so we waited a good while for it to pass. Finally, the radar showed we were in the clear and three of the five of us suited up and prepared for take-off. As we were getting on the plane, I looked on the horizon and saw a few storm clouds. Nervously, I eyed my instructor and asked if we were okay, I was assured all would be fine, so I boarded and tried to stay positive.

A normal jump is 13,000 feet, but as we reached 8,000 we were immersed in clouds and the sky was dark. In a hurried furry the pilot told our instructors it was time to jump and with limited instruction I found myself on the edge of a plane staring into a completely cloudy abyss. I knew this didn’t feel right, but trusted in what I thought was a reliable company that they would not send us on a dangerous mission to risk our safety and their reputation.

Falling into a storm cloud is an experience that is difficult to put into words. Imagine the thickest fog you have been in and multiply it by 100. I wasn’t sure what was up, down, what way I was falling, what direction I was turning and I quickly became nauseous. My instructor did the best she could to not show her fear, but as more time passed with zero visibility she started to voice her concerns saying, “we need to get out of this so I can steer” and “I just need to get us out of this cloud”. Finally we emerged into the open, but by this time the wind had taken a complete 180 and we weren’t going to make it back to the landing strip. “I’m sorry, but we’re going to land in that cornfield,” my instructor told me.

As we were landing the downpour started and the hail soon followed, but once on the ground the reality of what we had just experienced began to come out. My instructor has been jumping 16 years and has over 10,000 jumps under her belt, but as she hugged me she told me this was the worst condition she had ever jumped in. When we returned to base, emotions flared and many were angry that we were allowed to jump in the first place.

This video of my friend Maria, who jumped with me, illustrates the experience. Notice the storm clouds  in the background of her beginning interview and the actual jump at the 2-minute mark. The photographer lost Maria immediately, but continues to film his journey through the cloud. Compare this to Kristin’s video who jumped after the storm had actually passed and the reality of our visibility becomes very clear (or hazy, as the case may be).

In the end, thanks to the great instructors, we all landed safely and got vouchers to go back and jump on a clear day. I plan to continue to live my life adventurously, but it’s moments like this that make you realize the trust level you should place on a company that is ultimately trying to make a profit. People with more experience than I had concerns about us jumping and I continue to wonder why nobody spoke up and questioned if this was the best idea. I had concerns, but chalked it up to normal nerves and kept my mouth shut. Groupthink can be a very powerful and dangerous concept and in the future, I hope I will trust my gut.

Photo credit: Madeline Koch

I’ve always been a big quote girl keeping notebooks full of quotes I found interesting, inspirational or simply amusing. They are littered throughout the journals I’ve been keeping since I was a little girl. So, I thought I would share a few I collected on my Australian journey.

“To live is so startling, it leaves little time for anything else.” – Emily Dickinson

“I’m good. I’m always good. Beautiful day.” - overheard from a random Fijian

“We might return to some of our oldest questions and find their answers staring us in the face. What is the meaning of life? Life. Why are we here? To be here, to be-long, to be.” - David Suzuki

“It is not necessary to deny another’s reality in order to affirm my own.” – Anne Wilson Schaef

“Youth is not a period of time. It is a state of mind, a result of the will, a quality of the imagination, a victory of courage over timidity, of the taste for adventure over the love of comfort. A person does not grow old because they have lived a certain number of years. A person grows old when they have deserted their ideals. The years may wrinkle the skin, but deserting their ideals wrinkles the soul.” - Unknown

“To escape criticism: do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.” – Elbert Hubbard

“The whole enterprise, if you focus on the need and not the greed, makes the labor worth it.” - Darcy, a man who brought food to campus every Tuesday to feed those in need.

And lastly, an excerpt from my final entry. Reading it transports me back to that time and place and feeling so intensely. This is why I have always loved to journal and this is why I now love to blog.

“I am sitting in an airport waiting for Jenna and the boys to pick me up for one of our last nights together, for sure our last night out. New Zealand, which was always in the distant future at the end of my trip, is now over and my emotions are a complete jumble. Words cannot describe what I am feeling when I think that I will be back in Minnesota  in only three days. My stomach immediately turns to knots, my heart starts to ache and yet, in a strange way, I feel like I’m ready to be home. I’m excited to see everyone and I feel like it’s time to be settled for awhile.

It’s interesting that the fears I had about coming here. My fears that I wouldn’t meet anyone I connected with, that I would miss the people at home too much, is now replaced with a fear that I will say good-bye to the people who have become some of my best friends and I won’t see them again. And I fear that everything I’ve learned here, all the ways I’ve grown and changed and all that I’ve experienced will turn into nothing but distant memories and a few pictures I look at every now and again. I don’t want to forget anything. Not one detail.”

However, when traveling on a tight budget and on a bit of a whim, you can, from time to time, find yourself in a *less than desirable* location. This is what happened on my latest trip to Korea. Actually, I found myself in what can only be described as the worst place I have crashed in my life. This is no small feat considering how much I truly love to rough it. I have slept in cars, tents and airports. On beaches with nothing but a sleeping bag and in a hammock in Mexico to keep out the cockroaches. I spent my freshman year of college practically living in the boys’ dorm and have been a groupie to a band on the road. But, these experiences pale in comparison to the little, cheap hotel in Busan, South Korea.

We got to our destination late at night and went to a hotel where my friend had previously stayed. It was full, but the owner suggested a friend’s hotel not far away where there were rooms available. He even offered to walk us there so, exhausted, we accepted his offer. I started feeling sketch about this place when we turned down the hallway and saw the blue, metal room doors that looked better suited for a prison than a comfortable inn.

My fears were confirmed when we opened the door, only to find a red-leather circle bed. No. I am not kidding. One look at this bed and the tune bow-chica-bow-oww gets immediately stuck in your head.

A quick scan of the room – the lack of sheets (apparently finding circular sheets is not an easy task), the tissues sitting on the headboard, the hair on the soap/mattress/literally everywhere, the Asian porn on the TV (again, not kidding) – two things became painfully clear.

1. This room is typically used for one thing and one thing only, and

2. It is not often cleaned.

But, we had already paid and were getting up in a few short hours. So, after much debate over which side of the comforter was, ahem, cleaner, and therefore safest to sleep on top of, and layering ourselves in every bit of clothes we had so no bare skin was exposed to the dangers lurking on the mattress; we settled in for the night.

After all, it could be a lot worse, and it is moments like this that we will look back upon when we are old and gray and think “the crazy stuff I did when I was young, poor and stupid.”

What we’ve done:

• Traveled to get here. A really long way. You forget how long and sometimes unbearable a 30-hour travel day can be when you haven’t done it for a while. Highlight was the four airplane meals, which included a shrimp cocktail appetizer. Nicely done, Delta.
• Took a self-guided tour of Gyungbok-gung Palace, home of the Joseon Dynasty from 1394-1910.
• Came to Gwang-ju, the town my friend Anne has been teaching and living in for the past seven months.
• Stayed out in a Korean club until 4:30 in the morning. Dancing is most definitely a universal language, even if the music is a bit outdated. Tupac’s California Love never disappoints.
• Bought a lot of tempura-fried food from a street vendor for a-bar grub (after bar, for you non-Eau Claire folks). Hard-boiled eggs, peppers, squid, sweet potatoes, is there anything that batter isn’t delicious on?
• Went to a pre-season baseball game of the Gwang-ju Tigers. Instead of hot dogs and cotton candy, Korean’s field-fare consists of fried chicken and ramen.
• Walked through a market; a scene just like in the movies. Fish, squid, chicken’s feet, seaweed all laid out for purchase.

My initial reactions – The thoughts that have crossed my mind the most as I’ve taken in the culture.

• Whoa, that’s a lot of people. And they are moving quite quickly. Better pick up the pace or I’m going to get trampled.
• Yikes, this is spicy food. I’m starting to sweat and tear up a little. Madeline, would be eating a lot of white rice.
• The juxtaposition between old world Korea, with its palaces and guards and the new world, with its skyscrapers and knock-off Gucci is something that is non-existent in the States. This country is obviously going through a massive shift of becoming westernized. Yet, its old culture is still scattered around the city.
• They really do wear those H1N1 masks wherever they go. It is almost as if it has become a trendy fashion statement, particularly for teens and young adults. Who’s excited to get their souvenir?

That’s all for now. Hope everything is going well back in the States. I’ll try to check in again soon.

I start poking around to see what life would be like in North Carolina, California or Colorado. I dig out photos from my semester in Australia, close my eyes and pretend I am laying on the tip of Whitehaven beach, the sun glaring down and the aqua blue water surrounding me. I even visit a tanning bed a time or two despite the severe cancer risk, not because I want a bronze glow, but because I desperately need to feel warmth.

I typically spend the winter months meandering in and out of my tundra-induced funk until April hits, the snow melts and I once again remember that life, and Minneapolis, is wonderful. A week ago, however, my Australian friend, Pete, stayed with me on his Minnesota visit. Seeing this city, and my everyday life, through the lens of an outsider, whose home country consists of nothing but heat, beach and sunshine actually helped remind me why I choose—yes, choose—Minnesota as my home.

Why Minnesota is great:

• We live through winter. Yes, I said it. The same element that sends me spiraling each year is at the top of my list of reasons why Minnesota, or rather Minnesotans are so wonderful. Pete commented on how much pride Minnesotans have for this state. I think it largely stems from the toughness that is required to survive, and enjoy, the winter months. There is a bond that forms between people who choose to live in a climate that is quite painful for much of the year. To survive Minnesota winters you have to be strong, resilient, a good driver and a generally happy person.

• Winter activities. Despite Pete visiting during the coldest winter snap of the season, we still managed to hit up Afton and do a little skiing/snowboarding. Man, had I forgotten how much I love to ski. And, going skiing reminded me of all the other winter activities that are available. How much fun would it be to go tubing at Green Acres? Or participate in the City of Lakes Loppet? The possibilities are endless, you just need to get off the couch, bundle up and take advantage.

(Side note: hibernating under a fluffy blanket on the couch for an entire day or weekend would also qualify as an appealing winter activity, in my book)

• When the snow melts. There is nothing quite like the months of April through November in the north. We have seven months to pack in as much outdoor activity as is physically possible, and we don’t waste a single moment. Hitting the beach, visiting cabins, biking the trails and having barbecues. Hell, it is sheer joy to simply put on a pair of flip-flops and walk out the door without the jacket, mittens, hat, scarf and boots (oof) that are required all winter. Wearing a dress without tights; I could go on and on.

Why my life is great:

• My roommates. It’s always fun when friends from different worlds are able to be in the same place and meet each other. It’s even more fun when they get along. My roommates not only allowed me to open our house to Pete and help make sure he stayed fed and entertained. But, they also embraced him as a friend. I think it can be summed up with Martina’s comment to Pete the night before he left. “I wish you were our fourth roommate,” she said.

• My job. I work at an amazing place with amazing people. And, considering the recent survey that states only 45 percent of American workers are happy with their jobs, this is no small feat. I go to a job every day where I am able to do the work that I want to be doing, with people who have become friends. I eat lunch with my coworkers (at all levels of the organization) and discuss topics ranging from which cartoon character is the hottest, to what type of person our ideal spouse would be (musician, politician, cowboy, etc), to such random shenanigans that it cannot be shared on the Web. We laugh hysterically.

• My friends all over the world. It is an odd thing having my best friends scattered all over the world. From Australia to Germany to states across the U.S. there is never a time when I am not missing someone who I love. But, I would not trade in these friendships for ones that are local. I would not trade the time spent with the people in Australia or the experience my friend Anne is surely having in South Korea to have everyone in close proximity to me. Having friends from other countries quite literally opens your world. It allows for visits from any number of Australians who have taken up residency on my couch. It allows for late night conversations on the comparison of cultures. It allows eating Tim-Tams and Vegemite and Kangaroo. It allows for extravagant vacations where I can impose on their couches and their worlds. And it allows me to see my world through a foreigner’s eyes. See its achievements and its faults. Its landmarks and hypocrisies. And it reminds me why I think it’s so damn great.