Not afraid. Not one bit.
Oh, well, okay, maybe a little bit, just a tiny bit.
I bought airline tickets to France two days before the attacks in Paris. My trip is less than a month way and the attacks on Brussels occur. My heart stopped a beat when I turned on the TV that morning. Are we nuts to go? Is this a much riskier trip? Is this an omen?
As the day went on I listened and read about the situation in Brussels; 4 days earlier the suspect in the Paris attacks was arrested, I read why Brussels is a hotbed for terrorism, how they don’t have the resources needed to track down the suspects. Brussels is not Paris. It’s not France. I learned a great deal and I ignored (or tried to ignore) the hateful talk coming out of the Presidential candidates.
I don’t believe building a wall around the U.S. will stop these attacks; I don’t believe changing what we call the terrorists will make a difference. Isolating a portion of the population will only serve to play into their hands. And, staying in my little cocoon in a safe town in rural Maryland isn’t going to stop them.
Living close to D.C. puts me in a target anytime I go, or when I visit my sister who lives a stone’s throw from the Pentagon. I don’t give it a second thought, and I doubt any of my friends and family would either. No one would blink an eye if I took a trip to New York City – the site of a massive terrorist attack.
So, I’m going. I’m not afraid. I’m concerned. I’m smart. If my time to go is when I’m sitting in a Parisian cafe drinking wine and eating fine cheese with good bread, that’s okay with me.
I will keep on traveling.
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