On Irrational Travel Fears

I am afraid of getting sick while we travel. I’m afraid of being sick in a hotel, unable to be comfortable, in unfamiliar surroundings, with unknown health care. I am afraid of Ricky getting sick. I am afraid of intestinal viruses, of malaria, of the side effects of the malaria prophylactic medicine we’ll be taking. I’m afraid of the holes in the ground instead of toilets.

I am afraid of being mugged, of getting hurt, of dying abroad. Of being ripped off by taxi drivers. Of driving on the wrong side of the road and getting into an accident. Of not understanding what people are saying to me when it’s important that I do. Of being constipated.

I am afraid of not getting the most out of this trip. Of not having a healthy diet. Of not enjoying ourselves. Of not finding good food. Of having Ricky be a pain in the ass while we travel. Of having trouble getting money out of the ATMs. Of wishing we were not traveling. I’m afraid of going through the motions.