Before Washington and Wichita, in Fushe Kosovo – Acrophobia and…

I’m packing my suitcase for my first trip to America, and I’m also warpping a gift for Helena, a woman who turned 84 today. Even though I’ve never met her, through the few emails we exchanged, she feels like someone I’ve known for a long time. Finding a gift for her was not easy since I know so little about her, but I’ve chosen something that represents Kosovo—its tradition, painful past, and hopeful future. Helena will be my host for eight days in Wichita, Kansas, but before I meet her, there’s another stop on my journey.

As I pack the last things into my suitcase, I think about my first transatlantic flight—a journey that seems as distant as my dreams, and nearly impossible to grasp. Why do I feel this way? Not many know, but I am a hopeless acrophobe; I’ve never liked heights, in fact, I despise them. Flights above the clouds, though magical, are something I mostly sleep through. But will I make it this time? I don’t know… 14 hours on the plane, uhh…and I feel a knot in my stomach just thinking about the endless ocean beneath me.

Nonetheless, the first stop will be in Washington, at the United States Congress. A place I’ve seen, read and written news about so many times, but never imagined I would step foot in. My acrophobia disappears here. The Capitol, with its architecture filled with history and symbolism, represents one of the most significant centers of democracy in the world. To be there, in the same place where decisions that have shaped history were made, is, indeed, a privilege.

Just before embarking on this dream journey, my emotions are mixed. My youngest son, Rrapi, is only five years old, and this is the first time I will be away from him for 12 days. “Mom, will you take me to America?”—he’s been asking me this ever since I told him about the trip. No matter how exciting the dream I’m about to live, it’s still hard to leave those you love behind. Add to that the fact that I suffer from another fear—the fear of being far from my family.

Still, I’m certain this will be an experience I’ll never forget. That’s why I must write about this trip for Rrapi, Andi, and Diari, so that one day they, too, will understand that the world is meant to be explored, even if it means living the same day twice.

Until next time, from Washington!

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