Moving On

I started off collecting one postcard in each city to remember an unforgettable semester. At first, I thought this would be special, to look back and collect multiple postcards with the captured moments that typically define each city. The Old Town Square in Prague, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, and the tulips and bicycles in Amsterdam.

I made sure to buy a postcard in Prague, the first destination. I then bought a postcard in Paris, at the end of the second trip. Looking back, this checklist activity was already bothering me and it was only our second trip. I didn't even care what picture the postcard had on it, and I did not understand why my roommates were taking thirty minutes to decide which rectangular piece of paper to bring home. In Paris, deciding between a heavily photoshopped photo of the Eiffel Tower, or close up edited photos of silver locks engraved with random initials on the Love Lock Bridge, I realized this was not a past time I wanted to continue. Right now, I cannot even recall where those post cards are lying around. There was something about collecting postcards that meant nothing to me, but meant so much to my friends.

I stopped collecting postcards after Paris. While my friends spent time at the end of each trip sifting through piles at the tourist stands filled with keychains, brightly colored tourist t shirts, and baseball caps, I walked away, taking those thirty minutes alone to spend time in the small shop across the street or sip a tiny espresso and reflect.

I think that the post cards reminded me of the snow globes - the pretty meaningless snow globes that sit in a box collecting dust and turning into murky water. These snow globes and postcards represent the ideas of travel that can be captured as a memoir, but mean nothing compared to the experiences I learn from and teach myself.

The perfect representations, and the post cards and parties (p & p), drew me into studying abroad to fit the mold of everyone else who had traveled through Europe before I did. The p & p compelled me to travel freely and nonchalantly and checking cities off of my "Been" app, rather than truly living in the moment. It took many tries and failed experiences for me to leave the Americanized, college bubble of travel, and instead breathe in a new culture and meet people from all over the world.

I know I need to go back to Prague and Paris first. Next time I travel abroad, I want to do things differently. I do not want to be reckless, but I also do not want to be afraid.

I recognize that all of the problems I faced could have happened to me even if I wasn't in a foreign country. There are scary people everywhere. Men can and will make me feel uncomfortable and self conscious in tight clothing, will have me second guess an off-written turn on the Uber route, and can always sneak up behind me and steal possessions from me, or even my pride. But there is something that makes these actions feel magnified in a city where I do not speak the same language, do not know any of the people, and do not know the boundaries.

My purpose in writing these stories is not to make people afraid to travel and explore the world. The world is just complicated, especially when stepping foot and making memories in someone's else place. There is a shift in living differently and adapting to a native's way of living, while also accepting making mistakes and learning from them. I wish I wasn't so oblivious, but no one could have prepared me. The surprises, both the wondrous ones and the heartbreaking ones, made my 109 days a "once in a lifetime experience."

No two people travel the same. One perfect guide does not exist.

It is clear that travel is not over for me and my family. I have a bucket list. My parents are planning our next trip to Macchu Picchu in Lima, Peru, full of adventurous hikes and more Spanish speaking natives. Of course, I plan to go back to Madrid - to visit all of my favorite spots and brag about how I lived there.

I no longer collect snow globes, but my memories replace the ideal travel expectations bottled in these small glass spheres with reality.

Snow globes are meant to break.

This is how you learn.

This is how you make your own memories.

This is how you grow.