[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 7th 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.]
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| Exchange student love is the best kind of love. <3 <3 <3 |
