Places vs. People: The Great Debate of Travel Writing

***I want to start by saying that while I'm fairly certain that nobody actually follows this blog other than my mom, I sincerely apologize to anyone who could have possibly been disappointed in my lack of posts the past few months. To any readers out there: you're beautiful souls and I promise to get my $^&* together and start posting :) Without further ado, here's a post I made for a class blog that I keep for one of my writing courses. I wrote it at the beginning of the semester so I updated a couple of sentences, but I think it's still a good summary of what I've learned about myself and what kind of writing I want to do for the rest of my life:

***

I've wanted to make a career out of writing about places for as long as I can remember. As a preteen, I spent Saturday mornings curled up on the couch watching “Samantha Brown’s Passport to Europe” on the Travel Channel. On Sunday mornings, I ate breakfast at our cramped kitchen table and read Rick Steve’s travel column in the Chicago Tribune between mouthfuls of whatever fruit/yogurt concoction my mom had made for me that day. My 10-year-old self wanted nothing more than to grow up and be like Brown and Steves. I envied them for getting to see the world and earn a living by sharing their experiences, and I vowed to find a way to do the same.

Right after I started this blog during my freshman year of college, I sent the URL to my high school Enriched Print Communications teacher. He was the first person to introduce me to the field of journalism, and I wanted his feedback on this new type of writing that I was trying to familiarize myself with. I’ll never forget the comment he left on one of my first posts:

“I think you’d make a great travel writer. Would you write about people or places?”

At first, this struck me as a somewhat ridiculous question. Places, obviously. Why would a travel writer focus on anything else? My 19-year-old self believed that places are what defines a travel writer’s experience.

Today, after living in Reims, France for four and a half months and traveling to 10 other countries, I can say that my opinion has completely changed. It’s the people that you meet in a new place that really allow you to experience your surroundings fully. 

Sure, I fell in love with the rolling hills and chipped red-colored roofs of the Tuscan landscape when I took a train from Florence to Rome last May. However, it was the charismatic waiter who gave us free Prosecco and took 50 percent off of our bill that I’ll remember more vividly. I’ll never forget the beautiful courtyard of my French school where I would lie and eat my daily brie sandwich in the late spring sun, but what I miss the most is the people I sat with for hours, laughing and dreading the day when we would have to say goodbye and return to our four different home continents.

Just a few of my favorite humans who I gallivanted around Europe with.

Readers want to hear about places, but they’re more interested in the characters that reside in those backdrops. I could reel someone in with a beautiful description of the Reims cathedral, but I’m more likely to get someone to keep reading if I tell them how deeply moved I felt each time I walked through its doors, or about how the people who stood and reveled in its grandeur beside me have made me a better, happier person.

The past couple of months have helped me remember why I want to make a career out of writing, despite all the times I wanted to bang my head against the wall/all the late nights I've lain awake worrying that I'm going to be unemployed and living on my mom's couch for the rest of my life. The deeper I delve into my mag classes and the more feedback I get on my writing, however, the more sleep I get. 

A Letter to My Pre-Exchange Student Self

Dear 20-Going-On-21/Going-On-Study-Abroad-Semester-Self,

Get ready.

Seriously, get excited, because the next 4.5 months are going to be the best months of your life thus far. I promise it’s not going to be one of those things that everyone seems to talk up and blow out of proportion. Instead, it’s going to surpass all the expectations you’ve been building up since you decided you wanted to do this 10 years ago.

Your study abroad experience is going to be marked by lots of wine drinking-most of which is straight out of the bottle, yolo swag (you’ll also come to use that ridiculous Kenzie Pendergrass original term way too much, but you’ll love how ridiculous it is)-along with a great deal of walking, bonding with new international friends and of course, traveling.

I'm a nerd and kept track of everywhere I went this semester on my map:)

You decided you wanted to study abroad after seeing all of Mom’s old exchange photos from back in the day, most of which were intriguing because of how gorgeous all the cities she visited were. This semester, you’re going to see just as many, if not more, places that are more beautiful than anywhere you’ve ever been.

You’re going to wind through the busy streets of Athens until bam, you turn a corner and the ancient Acropolis is casually chilling up on the hill off to the left. You’re going to freeze for weeks in the tundra that is northern France until spring break comes and you’re rewarded with a trip to sunny Portugal/Spain (when, speaking of which, you’ll sip wine at St. George’s castle with a view overlooking the whole city of Lisbon, surprise yourself by thoroughly enjoying Taco Tuesday at Taco Bell in Madrid-probably because they give you cheap beer-and watch the sunrise over the Mediterranean after dancing the whole night away at Social Club in Barcelona). You’re going to fall in love with a French city whose name is a surname back in the good ol’ U S of A-AKA Nancy-when you go to a Bleachers/The Kooks concert and scream along to every song while French people stare and judge at you (but you won’t mind because you’re surrounded by your equally loud and fun-

loving American exchange friends). 

.70 euro wine with a view, score.

You’re going to sip tea at Laduree and wine from a baby bottle at Refuge des Fondues during Mom’s trip to Paris, and you’re going to master the Parisian metro system with your fellow Mizzou Journalism Abroad-Reims buds during your first big group trip. You’re going to eat amazing food, learn some British history and pretend to be in your 30s when you visit Nat in London, and then you’re going to have an interesting time in Lyon involving Air BnB and clubs on boats.

You’re going to take the overnight bus to and from Amsterdam, where you’ll experience coffee shops, the most beautiful gardens you’ll ever lay eyes on (the Kukenhof and its famous tulips), and accidentally couch surf at a super cool Russian/semi Italian student’s apartment. You’re going to make new friends with the students of Sciences Po-Dijon when you stumble upon a party on the front lawn of their campus, and you’ll become even closer with your Sciences Po-Reims girlfriends in the process (fuqboyz fo lyfe...that will forever be the most shambly, hilarious and entertaining train ride of your life).

My favorite Colombian and I:)

You’re going to witness one of the biggest parties in Germany (but not really participate because you’re running on an hour of sleep, so you just sort of stare while standing in the obscenely large crowd) when you unknowingly book a flight that gets in to Berlin on May Day, and then you’ll attempt-and give up after 5 minutes in line-to get into one of the most exclusive clubs in Europe the following night. You’re going to meet friends from all over the world on your walking tour in breathtaking Prague and climb a mountain-like hill with them, all while wearing jeans in 75+ degree weather (biggest regret: not packing shorts on that trip). Then, you’ll take the world’s best overnight bus-seriously, Student Agency is boss. TVS and a huge movie selection for everyone!-to beautiful Budapest, where you’ll eat an amazing garlic/cheese/lard (yes, we were told the Hungarians love their lard)-filled dumpling meal and learn more about Hungarian politics and what it’s like living in a post-communist society than you ever thought you would.

Some art appreciation at the East Side Gallery in Berlin. 

You’ll spot celebs at the film festival in Cannes and then see the most beautiful view of your life when you climb a hill overlooking the Mediterranean and the entire city of Nice. You’ll spend two perfect days in the most quaint and tranquil island in Greece, Agistri, where you’ll party way too loudly in your room with all your friends but the hotel owners, AKA the nicest people in the world, will still love you and give you free Greek yogurt the next morning when you’re hungover. And, on your final trip, you’ll survive dumb bus fines in Florence and a torrential downpour in Rome and be rewarded with free Italian “champagne,” the best food you’ve ever had and a hostel that offers an hour-long open bar (score).

I think it's safe to say that we enjoyed the island. Miss you, Agistri.

What you won’t expect is to have the time of your life not only in all of these foreign cities, but also in the little, lesser known city that you end up studying in.

Reims will offer you more laughs, sleepless-and not because you’re studying-nights, and completely random yet priceless memories than you could ever imagine. You’ll fall in love with the city’s cathedral-which will become your favorite in all of Europe-and end up spending some alone time there just to stop and give thanks for this blessing of a semester. You’ll have a picnic outside the beautiful St. Remi Basilica with all your best friends, wait down the street for two hours for a gala bus that never comes, and get free pastries from the angel of a woman who owns the bakery across from school. You’ll eat takeout from a place called “Made in Pizza”-great English-for your 21st birthday, right before you drink way too much wine and fear that your new Texan and Swedish friends that came along will judge you (but they won’t, so no need to worry because it turns out that they’re two of the sweetest girls you’ll ever meet). You’ll spend countless nights crashing in your friends’ rooms in Residium after going out, and when you choose to make the 45-min trek home instead, you’ll have some of the best drunken conversations of your life with Kenzie. 

We clean up pretty nice, I guess. 

You’ll eat French Montana original burgers made over a tiny stove in TDC, and pasta made in the same tiny kitchen by your favorite, very fashionable Italians. You’ll skip the sidewalk and walk in the street some nights, attempting parkour and asking random people for “agua” (not l’eau or water, mind you, but the spanish version). You'll walk into a potentially haunted construction site in the middle of the night and run away when you find a dog bowl full of water (because clearly, that means there are people living in there). You’ll get rejected from the Vogue and experience the most pure sense of joy when you and most of your friends finally get in during one of your last nights all together. You’ll make friends with bartenders and occasionally get free shots at the best bar in town, AKA Sherlock, and watch the most epic dance battle of your life at Le Bee.

A rare occurrence: Pauly B's natural smile caught on camera.

Most importantly, you’ll realize that sometimes, the best friends are found in the most unlikely of places. You’ll realize that the people that you meet on exchange are the type of people that are worth holding on to. Your friendship with them is different. It sounds cheesy, but it’s special. When you come into the semester a somewhat shy, awkward tall girl that’s not used to letting go, your new friends will become the people that help you come out of your shell. They will make you leave your number on the table for a cute waiter and message that guy you were dancing with at the club. They’ll convince you to wear the dress that you wouldn’t normally wear, or to try that new drink that you’ve never ordered before (which wasn’t always a good idea, but now you know haha). They’ll teach you new dance moves-good and bad-and how to flirt (lolz). They’ll teach you the importance of cutting yourself a break and letting go. They’ll teach you that you deserve to have a good time, and that getting good grades isn’t the most important thing in life. They’ll teach you that it’s ok to be a little selfish now and then, because you’re in charge of your own life and you don’t owe anything to anyone. By the end of this semester, you’ll leave France a more confident, self-assured girl, and you have them to thank for that.

Here’s my advice to you: don’t forget to thank these people. 

Tell your new friends-who will come to be more like family-how much you love them throughout the semester, and don’t let their reciprocated love go unappreciated. Cherish every moment that you have with them while it lasts, because you never know how long it will be until you see them again, and they’re not the type of people that you ever want walking out of your life.

Love,

Your Future, Very Emotional Post-Exchange Semester Self. 

I'm forever grateful to have met all of these wonderful people. Thank you for the best 4.5 months of my life:)

In case anyone was curious about stuff I did two months ago...

***I'm pretty embarrassed to say that this is basically two months late, but better late than never, I guess? I started to write this post about spring break on the bus to London last month and just now finished it because life/my new desire to spend as much time with my new friends as possible before I have to say a difficult goodbye to them got in the way. Anyway, here it is. Enjoy.***

I came into this semester telling myself that I was going to do it all while simultaneously doubting my ability to execute. My list of must-sees was exhausting just to look at, and I wasn’t very confident in how far my minimum wage swim teacher’s salary could stretch (with some help from the parents, of course). However, looking back on how much I saw on spring break, I’m starting to think that it’s possible…especially if I keep living off of microwavable pasta boxes and brie sandwiches during the week.

I'm head-over-heels in love with Lisbon, and I don't care who knows it. 

I backpacked through four cities in ten days, and each of them offered their own wonderful, magical, ridiculous, amazing, absurd and thought-provoking experiences. If you told my 15-year-old self that my 21-year-old self was going to climb on a playground (like a 5-year-old) on the beaches of the Mediterranean, drink wine while watching the sun set (or, what we could see through the clouds) over the city of Lisbon or eat churros at 2:30 in the morning before proceeding to go to a club that doesn’t open until 3am, I wouldn’t have believed you. I saw more in those ten days than my brain could process in two months, and I think it’s still catching up/recapping each time I look at the photos that I took.

Those ten days were ten of the most stressful days of my life, but they were also ten of the most remarkable days I’ll probably ever have. So, in honor of the greatness that was spring break, here’s a list of the top highlights from my trip:

1. Eating one of the best meals of my life for only 6.50 euros in Lisbon. Seriously, we got a full three-course meal for the cost of a beer at our favorite bar in Reims, and I’ve been wondering why I chose to learn French over Portuguese everyday since. My delicious pork and potatoes dish aside, the meal was most notable because of the people I was with and how we ended up eating together. Casey and I decided to go on our hostel’s free walking tour the first Sunday morning of our trip, and our guide was this super hilarious Lisbon native who preferred to throw up the bird instead of waving a flag to get us to follow him. He was super fun, so when he told us at the end of the tour that he was going to lunch at one of his favorite places and that he would love to bring people along, we couldn’t pass it up. Casey and I found ourselves following a group of five other girls to this little hole-in-the-wall place whose tables where so close together that I had to swing my leg over the chair to sit down. Over two hours later, I knew my first few Portuguese words, which restaurant I needed to go to in Madrid the next day, and had gained six new friends and potentially a couple pounds. I tried pineapple pop, Portuguese rice pudding and even Portuguese coffee (which is a big deal for me because I’m typically pretty anti-coffee, but when in Lisbon, right?). I need to go back. Not want, need.

I think I know what love feels like now.

2. Watching the sunrise over the Mediterranean after staying up all night long. This one, like most of my favorite moments, was definitely not planned. Kenzie, Katie and I went to a club called City Hall in Barcelona-nobody goes to clubs before 3am in Spain, by the way-and we ended up staying until what I would imagine was probably very close to closing time. Despite the fact that I wasn’t feeling my best and Kenzie wasn’t my favorite person at that moment in time, somehow I let her convince me not to walk back to the hostel (which was only like three blocks from the beach, score) and I’m so happy she did. It was a little cloudy, so it wasn’t the clearest of sunrises, but the fact that I was sitting in the sand watching it along the Mediterranean with two good friends by my side made it a moment that’ll be engrained in my head for the rest of my life. Oh, and I can’t forget to mention that we came home so late that they were already serving breakfast at our hostel, so naturally, we sat in the lobby bean bag chairs and ate a bowl of Cocoa Puff rip-off cereal. Then we went to bed/took a nap/whatever you want to call that. It was epic.

It's hard to stay mad at Kenz when she takes me to see sunrises on the beach.

3. Seeing La Sagrada Familia. I can’t really place my finger on why, but for some reason this was always one of the top three places I wanted to visit abroad. Growing up, I was an awkward nerdy girl who watched Passport to Europe and other absurdly cheesy Travel Channel shows regularly, and ever since I first laid my eyes on Gaudi’s cathedral via my family’s old Panasonic, I was oddly enchanted by it. Gaudi’s style is simply something that you can’t find anywhere else in the world, and it’s hard to find any architect to compare him to. He was truly ahead of his time as far as both design and engineering go, and seeing his crowning glory was a seriously moving experience. I’ll never forget standing beneath the ---foot ceiling and just gaping up at it. I could have stood there all day. It’s no Sistine Chapel-Gaudi wasn’t about that fresco life-but it’s just so beautiful in its own remarkably unique way that I absolutely loved it. Although I adore the whole thing, I think my favorite part of the whole structure is the set of stained glass windows on the left when you’re facing the altar. This wall is covered almost entirely in warm-colored stained glass windows that reflect sunlight in the most breathtaking way I’ve ever seen. The colors range from deep, earthy reds and oranges to bright sunflower yellows in all sorts of different hues, and walking through the reflecting light cast on the floor and the columns that sit across from it is truly awe-inspiring. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt more at peace than I did in that moment, soaking in the warmth of the various shades of color and the literal heat let into the otherwise chilly structure. It’s hard to put into words what it is about the windows that make them so magical. They’re vast and intricate and radiate this warmness that fills your soul in an indescribably raw way, and I couldn’t be happier that I got to experience it for myself. 

I don't think anything can ever beat the beauty of these windows.

Purely breathtaking.

4. The feeling of satisfaction when we finally got on our train to Charles de Gaulle to catch our flight to Lisbon (which is the same feeling we felt when we got on the Pamplona bus and Barcelona train, seeing as we were late to all of them). Rule number one of traveling: when traveling to a brand new place on a schedule, know exactly where you’re going and how to get there on time. Oh, and don’t expect to be able to put more money on your pre-paid credit card an hour before you need to leave for the train station (you may think it’ll take five minutes since you can do it online, but with your luck, you’ll end up on the phone with customer service for at least 30 minutes). I’m glad that I’m now able to look back at the fact that it took us six modes of transportation to get to Lisbon-cab, TGV train, Parisian metro, Parisian RER train, plane and some good, old-fashioned sprinting on foot-but at the time, it was basically the worst experience ever. Casey and I thought that we had all the time in the world since our TGV for Charles de Gaulle didn’t leave until 5:15ish Saturday afternoon, but we were sorely mistaken since we ended up missing our train, then taking a cab to the other station in hopes of making the connecting train and proceeding to miss that one as well. Although thinking back to how I felt in that moment still gets my blood pumping, nothing compares to the pure bliss/relief that I felt as I melted into my seat on the TGV and let out the biggest sigh to ever escape my lips. Thankfully my limited French speaking ability and the look of pure distraught on my face were enough to make the guy at the second train station window feel bad for us, so he exchanged our tickets for free-we actually ended up getting 10 euros back, because he’s an angel and if Casey ever has a child, she’s naming it after him-and gave us a free RER ticket to take us from Paris to Charles de Gaulle. He was a saint, and I’m not sure if I would have gone on spring break without him, so I’m eternally indebted to him.

I'm glad our friendship survived this trip.

5. Meeting locals and internationals alike/making friends in Lisbon. Good Morning Hostel is the shiz. Seriously, I think where we stayed in Lisbon is one of the biggest reasons why it’s potentially my new favorite city. From the second we walked in the door at midnight, exhausted yet relieved to finally be there, they made us feel at home. After he gave us our keys, the first thing the guy at the desk did was pull out a map and immediately start pointing out places of interest. He helped us get acclimated with the area and proceeded to show us exactly how to get to our room and how to open the door. The whole staff was so incredibly sweet-they even served delicious waffles every morning-and they fostered a comfortable environment that made making friends super easy. Casey and I went out with what seemed like the whole hostel on Sunday night, and we enjoyed a three-course meal and endless sangria, beer and happiness. We all proceeded to go out to a bar and a pseudo club afterwards, and we ended the night chatting until 4am with our new British friends on the hostel couch. I don’t know what it is, but there’s some sort of special bond among travelers. It’s one of the few life situations in which you seem almost equal because you’re all traveling, most people for the first time, to this foreign country that’s oceans away from home. You feel like you’re in the same exact life situation as the people around you, and it’s comforting to know that you’re not all alone.

They made us do team building activities prior to this photo.

6. Having one of my best friends show me around her new stomping grounds in Pamplona. Katie and I joke that we’re the same exact person: we’re both magazine writing majors, both from the Chicago area, both raised by intense hockey lovers, both romantically challenged, the list goes on and on. We were roommates last semester and had nearly the same class schedule; so needless to say, we spent a lot of time together. That’s why I was so ridiculously pumped when we found out that we both had gotten in to our respected study abroad programs. We do differ in one big thing; she studies Spanish and I study French, so this meant that we were going to be in two different countries. However, I couldn’t be more thankful to have her 9 hours away instead of a whole ocean away like the rest of my friends and family from back home. So, when I was planning a spring break trip to Spain, I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to visit her in Pamplona. While the city is small and less recognizable-like Reims, so I can relate-it was still definitely worth the trip. We explored the colorful, windy streets of Old Town, ate garroticos, the delicious pastry that the city is known for, pretended to be running from a stuffed bull in the gift shop (I snapped an epic photo of Kenzie before the dude told us you have to pay for photos, score), discovered the pure bliss that is Wok to Wok (why don’t we have it in the U.S.? It’s basically the Asian version of Chipotle and it’s life changing), experienced “Crazy Wednesday” at Valentino’s and got to make some fun new friends, both Mizzou kids and non-tigers alike. There’s something about studying abroad that just makes it easier to open up to people and get to know them, so it’s not surprising that we only got a couple hours of sleep before our early morning train to Barcelona on Friday because we spent our last night playing drinking games and chatting away about anything and everything in Katie’s apartment.

My platonic soul mate and I in Pamplona.

7. Spending some quality time with some of my newest, closest friends (and managing to not kill each other). I love all the people I’ve gotten close with throughout this experience. Seriously, it never occurred to me that they would sort of define it for me, but they definitely have and I couldn’t be happier about that. Take the “Mizzou kids” for example. The 7 of us are completely different people and I’m not sure that all of us would have become friends back at school, but we’ve bonded in ways that I’ve never bonded with friends back home and never will. When you’ve run through multiple train stations, stayed up all night dancing and mastered the language of Franglish with someone, you get to know each other on a completely different level, and spring break was that defining moment when I realized that these are friends that I’m going to stay in touch with for the rest of my life. Of course we had our moments of stress and frustration with each other, but I’m proud of us for keeping our cool and being patient with each other throughout the trip.

Taco Tuesday in Madrid got wild.

The squad and I like to imitate Spanish statues of bears getting drunk. 

Gotta love bartenders who take pictures for us AND who give us shots of the Spanish version of Fireball. Much love, brah.

The Power of Being Disconnected

[Wrote this a couple of weeks ago and can’t help but laugh at the fact that I was sitting on a couch in Ikea to kill time while waiting for the bus, so I thought someone else might get a laugh out of it too, and enjoy the weird philosophical turn it took at the end when I added to it.]

GUYS I GOT MY COMPUTER BACK AH!!!!

I’m currently sitting on a fake leather couch in an Ikea cafeteria, watching Pokémon in French-which is hilarious-and waiting for my bus home because it only comes once every hour, and I have 40 minutes to spare. Since Pokémon is so 2004, I thought a better use of my time would be to tell you something very important:

It’s possible to live without your laptop for six days. I just did it. And I survived. And I learned the importance of human interaction in the meantime. Let’s all let that soak in.

If there’s one thing this experience has taught me, it’s the value of good, old-fashioned face time. Not the Apple version, the real thing. Actually LOOKING someone in the eye and having a real conversation.

Sure, I missed my Mac. I missed being able to do my homework at home instead of having to fit the library’s somewhat limited hours around my schedule, or walking 45 minutes to McDonald’s on a Sunday (because it’s the only place that’s open) to hog their wifi so I could write/submit my journalism assignment on my friend’s computer. I missed being able to type my notes during class, and having every password and important document right at my fingertips. Oh, and let’s not forget Spotify. The iPod that has the same 466 songs that have been in my iTunes library since I got my mini in 7^th grade was starting to get old.

But what I really missed the most was being able to communicate with people. When I’m alone in my little 9 square meter room at night, my computer is what keeps me from feeling disconnected. It’s what keeps me from getting homesick. The first thing I do when I get home everyday is pull up facebook and message someone from back home, or check the group message with all my friends here.

Sometimes I just look at my wall and pretend that the squad is in France with me.

So, when I didn’t have my laptop that first night, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. It was sad, really. I felt pretty pathetic, just staring at the pictures on my wall and thumbing through my cheesy guidebooks to pass the time before I was tired enough to fall asleep. Since I don’t have wifi in my building and nearly all my friends live at least 25 minutes away, it was a little lonely. So, I started staying away from my room even more that usual. I “made dinner” in TDC with Kenzie and Jo, watched Dear White People in the centre ville and then met the director afterwards (and then I was a nerd and asked him to join our #WriteOutLoud social media campaign), and I even attempted to look for a costume for a “casino night” themed party with a kiwi who told me he knew where the thrift shop was…we found it, but it wasn’t up to Macklemore standards. But I discovered that Italians love Camp Rock and Lizzie McGuire just as much as me, so it was okay.

I guess the long-winded point that I’m trying to make here is that loneliness is easily solved when you have adventurous, hilarious, ridiculous, spontaneous, fun-loving friends like I do here, and it’s funny that it took a broken computer for me to realize that.

To be honest, I didn’t go into this experience thinking that I would make such close friends. Sure, I was super excited to meet people from all over the world because I get sick of my dumb American bubble and love learning about other cultures, but it was the idea of traveling as much as possible that really attracted me to study abroad. I didn’t expect to love the meeting/spending time with such fun and interesting people just as much as I adore discovering new places.

Last night, Casey, Jo and I sat in a hostel lounge and talked about Buddhism, outer space and God knows what else over drinks and sour straws with a complete stranger. We got to know him for ten minutes-California native, got “robbed” (or lost his wallet when drunk? Still up for interpretation), graduated with a sociology degree, currently traveling for as long as he possibly can-and it took barely any time at all to dive into topics that went way beyond mere small talk.

“Trying to explain to other people what you experience while going abroad is an injustice to the experience, it just can’t be done,” he said.

The girls and I with our new bff/philosopher, Jonathan.

He told us that nobody at home would be able to truly understand our experience when we go back and I try to explain it to them, and I think he’s mostly right.

I think it’s hard to put into words how much this opportunity means to me. This is my time to not only see the world, but also begin to understand it. I know it’s really effing cheesy, but it’s impossible to fully appreciate foreign culture until you experience the beauty of it for yourself, first-hand.

I love the U.S., and being here has made me appreciate it even more-especially the convenience aspect of our culture-but there’s nothing that can compare to sitting in a French café in a quiet corner of Dijon, tucked between buildings with too much history for me to wrap my head around, and talking about nothing and everything at the same time over a three-course meal.

For some reason, it’s just easier to talk to people when you’re abroad. Language barriers aside, when you’re physically able to communicate with a fellow traveler, it’s a different kind of conversation than you have at home. You start to realize that traveling changes people, and I personally believe it’s in the best way possible.

When you travel, you’re exposed to the “other” that seems to be lost in the U.S.; it’s this idea that there is a lifestyle that could be equally, if not more, satisfying than the American one. Sure, the “American dream” might be a reality for some people, but how many Americans do you know that have discussed the pure awe that arises when you hike through the jungle and suddenly, a Buddhist temple that seems to be sprouting from the Earth emerges? How many Americans take the time to ask people why they’re passionate about the profession that they’re in or pursuing? How many Americans have the guts to quit their job and backpack Europe, surviving off of free hostel breakfasts and dried fruit for three months? I know there are some because I’ve met them, but I don’t think there are many.

Thank god I like these people b/c I spend all my time w/ them.

I’ve learned more about the world from interacting with new people than I have in any of my classes, or from going to any historical monument or museum while abroad. I now know how to say “thank you” in Portuguese, how to properly introduce yourself to a French person (a “kiss” on each cheek, which is really more like a cheek touch with a kissy sound), the main-yet arguably biased-differences between Aussies and Kiwis, how Zen Buddhism is essentially a reflection of the government in China, and scores of other random yet fascinating information and opinions that I never would have learned or heard otherwise.

For what it’s worth, I’ve always been self-aware enough to know that I’m actually a pretty shy person. I’m still awkward in my first encounters with new people and I still don’t know what the hell I'm doing when I attempt to flirt with guys (I wish I was kidding), but being here makes it easier for me to push out of my shell. I guess I’ve been holding myself back all these years because it only took about 30 seconds of convincing for my friends to get me to leave my number for a waiter at one of our favorite restaurants, and to text the random French guy I met on Valentine’s day.

Beyond my romantically challenged (yet improving) characteristics, I feel like I’ve noticed way more changes within myself since I moved here. I no longer panic before every test I take, put school before sleep or feel the need to be constantly up to date on my Instagram feed (those might not seem like they relate, but these three activities probably took up 75% of my time last semester). Now, I take my time when I eat meals, I ask people more questions about their lives and I put more of an honest effort forward when it comes to understanding other people’s differing points of view.

I’ve always seriously cared about others, hence why I’m not good at letting go of friends, but I think this is the first time in my life when I’ve truly realized how much we can learn from one another. It’s a different kind of caring. I care about other people’s experiences not only because I’m interested in getting to know them, but also because I’m interested in what I can learn from them.

[Wow. All that from one good night in a hostel and 6 days without a computer.]

Exchange student love is the best kind of love. <3 <3 <3