This story begins when I was no higher than three apples, I was blowing my two birthday candles this year. It's this year that my mom, world traveler in her soul, has decided to initiate me to her passion for the world. A mother an her daughter on the steep roads of Thailand. Where was my father? Into training. An umpteenth argument had shaken up their couple few weeks ago, it didn't stop us to leave. Free as the air, without no attaches except both of us.
I will always remember that first trip. I remember the heat who wrapped us when we got off the plane, an atmosphere humid and tropical, in the middle of the month of October. A smell of spices and kerosene was filling our nostrils. The hostess of the air were greeting us in a foreign language to me, a simpleton smile on her face, a robot of politeness. All of those colors, all of those smells, all of those languagesOne bulding, a thousand of different people, thousand of different languages, thousand of new things to discover.
Beautifull people in the sharing and love of the other. It's in that way of mind i've been raised.
Travels like this one, we've done them for me entrance to the high school. Every winter I didn't go to school for 3 months and we were leaving. I had only one homework during those trips, write a travel diary. When I came back, I had to read it in the classroom, I was showing all the picture of this wonderful world I have been visited.
It's not usual for a kid to love that much temples, havin the chance to climb on the back of an elephant, to eat fruits that kid of your age don't even know how to pronounce their name. I had seen more thing in my two year older than some people never seen in their entire life. The population of each country teaches me things, things that I'm trying everyday to respect in our day. Be kind, respectful, generous.
I was clearlly not preapared to face the hell of middle school, a place with no mercy, in which everyone try to not be forgetten. I will never forget them. Never.