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