Snoring and heavy breathing whistled through my ear as I gazed into the endless sky. I was thousands of miles away from home soaring in the air. The plane came to a halt and everyone surrounding me went about their business. “Bienvenido a Nicaragua,” broadcasted throughout the isles. With those three words, I never felt so lost. Those words ignited the chain reaction of routine. Yawns, ringtones, zippers composed the orchestra of the passengers and attendants. However, I was at a standstill. I heard no sleepy people, buzzing phones, or ruffling of carry-ons. I was in shock knowing that when I got on that plane back home, I was going to be a changed person.

I shuffled through packs of strangers with my passport in one hand and my cleats in the other. From the moment I arrived, I knew who I was suppose to be, what I was suppose to do, and how I was suppose to do it all. I was an ambassador for Futbol Sin Fronteras here to give children a better lifestyle with the gift of soccer. My sales pitch did not quite work. I soon learned that soccer was not just a game to these people. Soccer was a lifestyle. And for two weeks, I became swept up in this lifestyle.

Joseph Bidin Bermudez Obando. We lived in two totally different worlds. He spoke Spanish; I spoke English. But, one language united us, soccer. There was no translator, no phones, no people, just me, Bidin, and a soccer ball. For two weeks I had no worries. I lived in complete simplicity and nothing could override that feeling. I thought I had my life figured out. I was going to go to college, get my doctorate, and live the American dream. Bidin put my life into perspective. If we keep lying to ourselves about what we want to do in life, what's the point? I realized my life without soccer would be a joke. And, from that moment, I questioned what I was meant to do the rest of my life.

I used to be able to sit here and just rant about who I thought I was or what I knew I was going to do in life.But all I can really tell you that I’m certain of is my passion for soccer. So I guess I don't know what I want anymore. I wasn't ever lost in Nicaragua. I was simply finding my way around something all too familiar. “Welcome to Boston,” with those three words, I have never felt so lost.