Tomorrow morning, I board my first one-way flight, to Medellín, Colombia. I am going to be writing about it. I do expect to panic on the plane.

Indeed, it will be groundbreaking, world-shattering epiphanies that I, the wise and traveled muse, will impart to you, mere earthling, through a course of these articles. Think Jack Kerouac. Or Henry David Thoreau. Or, more likely, I’ll be revealing an astounding level of my ignorance about the world to you; either way, I expect to learn a thing or two, and I’m hoping it to be rich fodder for discussion. I get it – I hear your skepticism as the astute and avid Syntact follower that you are – how does this sort of subjective experience fit within Syntact?

Well, buster, living is subjective, and any objectivity results from some subjective act of research. It just so happens that my research process might be a little more dependent on my day-to-day than your average JSTOR article.

There is, though, something essential about dealing with the subjective. While our experiences are unique, we are completely identical in having unique experiences. To put it oxymoronically, humans are objectively subjective. We each experience the world exclusively through our own eyes.

My hope is that this intercontinental move, Syntact, and the series of articles that this post begins may inspire conversation outside of the day-to-day experiences I, and you, may be used to. We’ll see.

As an aside, it’s worth noting that I’m not sure what I’ll be doing in Colombia; it’s been a goal of mine to learn Spanish, one I intend to accomplish, but outside of this there are quite a few question marks. So, a portion of what I’m addressing has to do with coming to grips with choosing uncertainty. Here’s what I’ve wrestled with in the last month:

  • I’ll be miserable in 4-5 months, according to any kind of Culture Shock timeline.
  • It’s a lot more difficult to make a decision than to live with a decision you already made.
  • Ser and Estar must be incredible literary tools.
  • There’s some sort of optimal point at which spending more time thinking about and researching a decision impedes your ability to choose.
  • Failing to learn Spanish would be an eternal damnation of small talk where I only know how to ask someone where they’re from and what they do.
  • An inundation of news isn’t exclusively the global norm.
  • The more you talk about something you’re going to do, the more daunting it seems to do it.

What I find fascinating is each of these thoughts references something more universal than what I’m feeling. Culture shock exists as a concept because it explains aggregated patterns of unique, individual experiences. Studies on happiness show that your mind becomes biased towards justifying decisions already made, and in doing so, relieves stress and reinforces choices. Authors tell aspiring amateurs to avoid discussing their unwritten books, because it’s harder to put pen to paper when you’re letting yourself speak about your dream world. Each speaks to both the particular and the universal.

And right now they’re more like a half-baked splatter of thoughts and feelings by someone waiting to feel the gravity of their decisions than a tree of enlightenment. I anticipate they fuel a peculiar sort of anxiety as I stare out my oval-shaped window, crossing the Gulf, halfway from Austin to Miami, likely regretting every risk I’ve ever taken.

But new culture and language should bring the splatter into focus. And as they do, I’ll be writing about them here – not to tell you about me, but to explore how they relate to us.

And so, thus begin’s Syntact’s first Syntact-sponsored immersive journalistic effort (we’re splitting this three ways, right Ethan and Fernado?).