Despite being bogged down with a particularly belligerent strain of the campus cold, I cannot suppress the burgeoning excitement over next week’s trip.
Perhaps this has something to do with the surprising efficiency of the conference organizer who has taken the initiative to ensure we all have rooms not only for the nights of the conference, but those following for tourism jaunts.
Or maybe it is the prospect of visiting (one of) the old countries for the first time, knowing that it is a place that I am tied to, genetically.
While the former is delightfully refreshing, the latter comes with an edge of reticence – what if I don’t enjoy it? What if I leave with terrible memories and forever after shudder at the mere mention of the word Tunis?
For now, as I summon the impetus to complete the slides and notes, I can only hear the word as a burning litany accompanied by impromptu bursts of desire to Google the capital and ponder.
And also enthral in photo-feasts such as this one.
I can’t wait.