In front of my apartment at Via XX Settembre 49. Leaving Roma in 2007, returning in 2014, and our mini-reunion in 2017 (after a full day of biking the Appian Way!)
On December 22, 2007, I met my family at MSP in international arrivals, after requiring that they pay crazy amounts to park and come in to greet me. I had been gone for four months, after all.
I had spent those months visiting London, Salzburg, Munich, and Berlin, living in Athens and Rome, traveling around Greece and Italy, and finally, stopping in Paris and London again on my way home. I studied history, art history, theology, culture and language, and took my senior seminar on ethics and morals. I lived in a hotel with 27 other students, and shared an apartment with eight other women. I ate out for every meal in Athens, and cooked lots of pasta and ate lots of cheese in our tiny Italian kitchen in Rome. I learned the dangers of walking in Athenian traffic, and the stop-on-a-dime habits of Roman drivers. I wandered through political protests in the cradle of democracy and endured countless transportation strikes in the Eternal City.
I came home from that adventure on December 22nd, 2007. I distinctly remember sitting at Christmas celebrations feeling off. I was happy to be home, and even happier to be eating all of my favorite foods with some of my favorite people, but I just couldn’t put my finger on why I wasn’t entirely happy. That December 31st, instead of seeing friends I hadn’t seen in an entire semester, I sat at my parents’ house. Alone. On New Year’s Eve. It was then that I knew that reverse culture shock was real, and that something just wasn’t the same as it had been the previous three Christmases of my college career.
It was a slow burn, but over the next several months, it became clear that it was a permanent feeling of different-ness at home. I didn’t know what or why, but something had changed. I re-adapted to life in central Minnesota as I finished my senior year and prepared for student teaching. Adult life awaited, but I just wanted to get back on a plane. Turns out, that feeling doesn’t go away either.
“To my mind, the greatest reward and luxury of travel is to be able to experience everyday things as if for the first time, to be in a position in which almost nothing is so familiar it is taken for granted.”
Before I left, I wasn’t sure I’d survive the semester. When I got home, I knew I’d never be the same. Ten years later, the wanderlust that was implanted over that four months in 2007 has grown into more numerous and diverse interests than I could ever have anticipated. It has led to trips all over the world with dear friends to share experiences with, and adventures by myself, discovering the joys of solo travel. It has taken me to five continents, and provided me a lengthy list of future trips to be taken. It has shown me who I am and what I value as a human, and has made me a better teacher and person. It has cost me thousands of dollars and enriched my life in ways I can’t explain. And it all began with a semester I didn’t know I would survive.
My mom gave me a little business card-sized quote that I’ve carried in my wallet every day since. I certainly didn’t realize the power of that quote at the time, but I come back to it often.
“I am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.”
― Mary Anne Radmacher
There’s so much of the world to see. Get out there and do it.