The journey began in my third year at the University of Texas
Up until that moment, I had never once in my entire life thought about traveling anywhere. It was a complete surprise – like a giant asteroid ending up in your backyard one morning, still smoking!
I was living in Austin, going to the University of Texas during the day, and working in a fun German restaurant at night. It was a place where the local rugby team would squirt the German mustard bottles on the walls in the bathroom. They thought it was cute. it wasn’t; it was just obnoxious.
During that time of my life, my only mode of transportation was a bicycle that I would ride to school and work. My life consisted of school, studying, work, fixing up my VW to sell, and lots of miles out in the country around Austin on my road bike with my buddy, Tom.
I was two years into my major in Asian studies, and during my next spring semester, I could only find 11 class hours in my major – ONE LESS than the required minimum of 12. Twelve class hours was the rule for students who were working their way through school, like me.
I was told in order to enroll in eleven class hours, I would need a waiver. I would have to talk to the Dean.
So I went in and spoke to the Dean of Humanities. To my surprise, I got an unexpected attitude. It seemed as if he was somehow offended that I would even ask for such a thing as a waiver! I was lectured about how taking eleven hours versus twelve hours was impossible. It would be unfair competition for all the other students for me to carry one less credit hour. In Asian Studies?
I would get a better grade, a higher grade point average, get a better job, and make more money. I left the Dean’s office a bit in shock – a feeling like there was something very wrong about the situation. Plus, I had no idea the big money was in Asian Studies (it’s not).
As I walked out of the Dean’s office, I realized that UT or Austin was not the place for me after all. Even though, up to that point, I had loved learning. It was kind of thrilling to actually feel my mind come alive after being in an educational coma for my last three years of High School.
Needless to say, the Dean of Humanities rave was a gut punch that took the wind right out of my sails.
This moment was, “My first pivotal moment.” And, man – did I pivot!
So, the next day, I went to the Registrar’s office.
“I would like to drop out for this semester, please.” “Your reason, Mr. Black?” “Lack of interest,” I said.
(Did I REALLY say that? Yes, I did. The words just plopped out of my mouth. I had no idea I would need a reason to drop out!)
I took my saved tuition money that day, bought a nylon string guitar, and began playing guitar once again after a long break. The soft notes felt like a soothing balm for my soul.
A few days later, I was having lunch by myself in my little converted garage cottage, reflecting on all that had happened. Yes, I still remember – brown rice, shoyu, brewer’s yeast, and homemade yogurt.
This sudden change in my life flow had me taking stock of my current situation. Somewhere during that long, quiet reflection, an innocent thought drifted into my consciousness:
“If you’re not doing anything, you can do that anywhere.”
I stopped eating and looked out the window. A gigantic door had silently opened, and I was being called. If you’re not doing anything, you can do that anywhere? I could not get this idea out of my mind. Anywhere. I pondered. That covers a lot of possibilities. Do nothing. Anywhere.
The thought of just walking out my front door one day and continuing on till I reached the tip of South America drifted through my consciousness. How would that go, I wondered? Anything seemed possible.
Much more was possible than I even realized
Up until that point, I had never once thought of traveling. I had done what I thought were the only options available: go to college and figure out what was next. My future, not that I ever thought about it much, had only a small palette of colors – of available lifestyles to choose from.
I was not aware that my palette was actually gigantic, but until now, had been 99% in the dark.
I have a friend who could maybe get you a job
I told my girlfriend when I saw her the next day I had just dropped out. I said, “I guess I can do nothing somewhere else for a while.” Maybe I’ll take off, walking, hitchhiking, buses, till I get to the southern tip of South America. I started auditing a Spanish class the next week.
Then, a few months later, my girlfriend stopped me on my way into work, “Hey – good news! A good friend of my family has just returned from Singapore, working as a boat captain for a geophysical company from Houston.”
“I talked to him, and he said he would write you a letter of recommendation if you want. He knows they are looking to hire more people, and perhaps they could hire you. You might go somewhere exciting!”
It took me about five seconds to decide the South America idea was heavily flawed – this thing of having a job AND doing nothing somewhere else sounded infinitely better.
I cut off my long hair, shaved my beard, and went to Houston for the interview.
They hired me immediately on the friend’s recommendation and said, “We need surveyors in Egypt.” He should have said we are desperate for surveyors! I later found out why they needed me and why they couldn’t keep surveyors in Egypt! That story is coming later.
I accepted the position and moved to Houston for a month of training, got a passport and a slew of vaccinations, including Yellow Fever, and got my gear together to embark on my first great journey – hiking boots, a big cowboy hat for the sun, plus other stuff good for the desert.
At the end of the month, I gathered up my possessions and went back to Dallas, where the flight to Cairo via Rome would leave from. Dallas is where I grew up, from age six to 18. My parents still lived there. My mom was having a garden party that day, so my dad drove me to the airport.
She told me later that she had regretted not seeing me off in a better way. Neither of us knew we would not see each other again for five years. It haunted her a bit, as she later told me, she never, ever thought I would be gone for five years!
I didn’t know either. A door had opened, and the only thing I knew was I had to go through it!
And off I went with my guitar and duffel bag.