I have always made the claim that a person can learn more from traveling than they can in school or at university. I'll refine the statement slightly, but in general I still believe it to be true. A person doesn't learn 'more,' per se. It's hard to quantify something so abstract. And what one learns isn't 'better' by default, either. Just like one's experience at university, the quality of the material learned depends on how much personal energy and intentional thought one is willing to devote. Qualifications aside, here is what I know. Traveling is worth it. Traveling is important. Traveling is a necesity. During these past six months, more specifically throughout the last five weeks of pure traveling, I have learned so much about myself, about people in general, and about how the world works. I hope to continue processing this all for the rest of my life. But here's what I have to share with you so far....
What traveling has taught me about myself.
Traveling has given me a priceless opportunity to really get to know myself. I have learned that there are some essential characteristics about me that I just cannot change (or cannot change easily). So rather than fight to change myself, I have learned to accept myself, to utilize my strengths, and to love who I am.
On a simple level, I am refering to basic personal preferences. The enjoyment I receive from riding bikes is minimal to the happiness I feel when taking walks. Night life and general nighttime activities make me uncomfortable and suspicious. And whether I am in the United States or Chile, nothing bothers me more than when people talk on their cell phones in public. Basic.
But mostly, I am refering to the things that make up the very core of who I am. I view the world through a critical eye. Yes, at times this can be exhausting for me and for those around me. At times it fills me with doubt and stresses the people with whom I am conversing. But I would rather live by asking questions and seeking answers than live without any thought or consideration. Having a critical eye is a healthy quality for any good citizen--be it citizen of the world or citizen of a community. The key that I must learn, and have been learning througout these six months, is how to balance this skeptical eye upon a foundation of hope and optomism. Only then will I be able to note what needs to be changed, to give credit where credit is due, and to envision a better future. To envision a better future. Yes, the future is something I think about. Try as I might, I cannot always live here and now in this very moment. Yes, I do appreciate the beauty that is around me at each given moment. But at the base, I am a foreward thinking planner who needs to feel productive in the moment and likes to be somewhat ready for what is to come. Because of this, I have trouble taking a vacation and relaxing. All that I am seeing and doing must be part of a greater good, of a learning experience that will strengthen me and prepare me for my future tasks. I am flexible, but only to an extent. I have goals and I am determined to achieve them. So I combine the best of here and now with the best of then and there. For me, this is the only way I can live a life of adventure and happiness each day, because I know that my current experiences will help create a better tomorrow.
But how do I prefer to live each day of adventure and happiness? Well, when I am traveling, the answer is simple. By myself. Every Chilean asked me the same question with the same sense of shock...'You travel alone?' Yes, I do and yes, it is fantastic. I have had the privelege of waking up each day and asking myself 'What do I want to do today?' I have been able to spark conversations with every type of person because I am not dependent on another companion for constant reassurance and entertainment. I have been comfortable enough to spend hours and days entirely by myself, because I am accustomed to the joys of the solitary experience. True, I am not opposed to the idea of company. I have met some wonderful people who have inspired me and given me strength (more on that later). I can travel with someone else, but I can only do so for a day or two before I must move on. This explains why I don't like taking tours--in this situation, I find that I see, experience, and understand my surroundings better when I am alone. This also explains why I will cut a new relationship short the minute I find the other person becoming to attached. I cannot count the number of times I've performed the infamous Montana Exit throughuot my travels.What can I say. I am who I am.
But there have been some moments when I don't feel like myself, when I will experience emotions that are different from what I am used to. And although these moments may feel foreign, they too are a part of me. Rather than fight them, I should listen to my body and my mind and learn from these experiences. On a physical level, this happens whenever I get sick. Getting sick when traveling is an awful experience. You have no support, you are in an unfamiliar place, and you are living in the public eye. But pretending you are not sick will only make things worse. In stead, I have learned to listen to my body and give it the time it needs to recover. On a mental level, this happens during those inevitable times that I become numb to the scenery or homesick for the States. Months ago, I would have chastised myself for these feelings. I would have called myself weak and forced myself to cover up these emotions. But now I know that these feelings are part of me, and that I should acknowledge them and work with them rather than ignore them and hide them. I have learned to respond to these situations in a way that allows me to experience the emotion fully and change the feelings slowly. When I feel unable to grasp the beauty of what is around me, I stop focusing on the big picture landscape and start to notice smaller details. I look less at the grand mountains and more at the way the leaves sparkle. When I feel homesick and exhausted, I change locations or make a subtle physical change. I get on a bus or I get a hair cut. Something so simple allows me to mark a transition that reinvigorates me and allows me to continue.
What traveling has taught me about other people.
People judge that which they do not understand. This is natural. It's human instinct. We do it for survival so we can have a sense of what we should avoid and what we can approach. We do it to make sense of the world so we can deconstruct the unknown into something logical and understandable. An important key to traveling, however, is learning how to be safe and understand others without passing judgement. This has been relatively easy for me to do when it comes to local Argentines and Chileans. Thanks to my background in anthropology, I have approached most interactions with an understanding of cultural relativism. I have been able to understand why they live the way they do, why they prioritize their present relations, and why they distrust people from the United States (surprisingly this has less to do with our dark history and ugly international policies and more to do with our seemingly cold, self centered personalities). However, my greatest challenge came in the form of other travelers. At first, it was difficult for me to open up to the tourists and backpackers whom I met in hostels and on buses. It took an intentional effort to realize that not every young traveler is a party seeking, tour group hopping, unconsious money spender. Just like I have an interesting story for my quirky adventure, so too do they. Once I realized this seemingly obvious fact, I began to meet a range of fantastic, brilliant, inspiring people. The French motorcyclist who has driven his beloved bike around the world. The American Fullbright Fellow who, at 60, divorced her husband and moved to Chile. The rare jewel traders from Australia who have an entirely self-sustainable farm. The retired US Marine who now begrudgingly flies planes for Monsanto. The maried couple from New York who lives and participates in their forward thinking, progressive community outside of the city. The Spanish farmers. The Swedish biker. The English soul searcher. The wide-eyed dreamer from Santiago. Everyone has their story. Everyone has their reason for traveling. Everyone has their goals that they wish to accomplish. The quicker I realized that, the more I was able to get past the pleasentries and to begin the real conversations. Those were the conversations I cherished and those were the interactions that inspired me. But to get there, I had to suspend judgement for the time being and lower the wall ever so slightly.
This is an important lesson to take home to America with me. I know and have met many Americans that make me never want to return to the United States. They are self centered and close minded. They think any form of lifestyle other than their fastpaced, car culture, consumeristic world is boring and regressive. They refuse to see the impacts their actions have on the rest of the world or they feel so entitled to their position that they don't care. But for every one of these Americans, there are dozens more who give me hope, who make me proud of my country, and who drive me to return. Maybe they don't live a sustainable lifestyle and maybe they don't concern themselves with the current global state on a daily basis. But they are interested in what I am doing, they are conscious of their actions, and they work hard to improve their community. Then there are those who are making positive changes in the world and who are living active, concerned lifestyles. It is with them that I fight and with them that I will live and work upon my return. As one of my American muses told me throughout my travels, 'There are a lot of great people in the States. And there are a lot of great people who still don't yet knwo that they are great people.'
When all is said and done, everyone is the same. We are all people living our lives. On the surface, we all may appear different. But that is because we have adapted to our current locations and time period. Chile is a large country with many different climate zones. People live differently in the desert than they do on the island of Chiloe. That goes without saying. But when I pass them on the street or look at them from the bus, everyone is living. They are walking home from the supermarket. They are buying birthday presents. They are walking their children home from school. They are talking on street corners. They are embracing a lover. They are smoking a cigarette. On the surface these faces and actions may not appear noteworthy or interesting. Their not photogenic like San Pedro's salt flats of Patagonia's mountains. But they represent life, and life in and of itself is noteworthy and interesting. The key now, is to make everyone realize that although we are living our own lives, our lives are inseparable. We share a world and we share a mental connection.
But I cannot force people to change and I cannot force people to adapt this world view. I can only learn to understand where they are coming from. The only change I can actively cause, is the change within myself. Change myself. Unite my mind and heart and soul and body. That will inspire people. That will set an example. That spark will start a light that will spread accross the globe and illuminate us all. I have that light. You have that light. Those around you have that light. The more we open ourselves to others, the more we can inspire each other, invigorate each other, support each other, and brighten the world.
What traveling has taught me about how the world works.
People have the power to create the reality they experience. To a degree, they choose the world in which they live. They choose to prioritize certain things and to focus on certain truths. Everyone does that. You do it. I do it. When traveling in Chile, I chose to focus on the countryside, on the natural environment, on small towns, on the daily life of families, on the effects of institutions of religion and international corporations. Those are the questions I sought, so those are the answers I received. And I received these answers in different ways. In the countryside, I walked. I walked and I walked and I walked. Hills, fields, farms, mountains. I took in everything by moving. But in a city, where everything else is moving around me, I was the one that stood still. So I sat. I sat and I sat and I sat. Park benches, cafe windows, street corners. I took in it all by staying still. This is what I know of Chile, and this is how I came to know it. I won't claim to have an understanding of it all. I don't know what life is like at night. I don't understand the importance of restaurants or national cuisine. I made a choice and I prioritized. I chose my reality. If you understand the lens through which I see the world, you will understand me and my perspective better. It is important to talk to people, to understand what matters to them, to understand the lens through which they view the world. It will help you understand them, the country, and the world a lot better.
Of course, there are a set of confines within which we must live. We are only human, and we cannot control the world. We shouldn't even make the attempt. But what we can do is choose how to respond to the world that we are presented with. We can do this on a large scale. The world is flattening, and globalization has connected us in ways we are only beginning to understand. We must choose to be active members of our local community, as well as conscious global citizens. Buy local and recycle. Simple enough place to start. But we can also choose to respond to the world on a daily basis in our own personal lives. I make it a habit to find at least one thing each day that blows my mind, that makes me grateful to be alive. Sometimes it is as shocking as realizing that there is an active volcano in my back yard. Other times it is as simple as biting into a freshly picked apple. This seems like a minute task. This seems so easy that it couldn't possibly have any grand impacts. But the more I think about it, the more I realize how lucky I am to have at least one moment a day. And the truth is, I have multiple moments each day. Life is filled with ironies and coincidences. The more I notice them, the more enjoyable life becomes. The more I find something unique about each and every sunset, the more special this beautiful occasion becomes. I look at the people who pass me by on the streets, hurrying from one task to the next, and I wonder if they can say that they find a moment of peace and happiness in their busy, routine lives. But I can say that each day is spectacular. I choose to say that. And so it is. The world becomes beautiful, and I become inclined to dance, to sing, to laugh, to smile. I turn the switch, and what appeared dull and grey is now radiating with sunshine and color. Joy spreads within me and it expands. I pay it forward and the movement grows.
Learning to create my reality and choose my world has shown me that the world is not so black and white. Answers are neither simple nor obvious. Maybe the answers don't even exist. The only thing I can do is to keep asking questions, keep absorbing information, and keep learning. Confusing, I know. But exciting, too. So what's real? What are the answers? I don't know. It seems like cities are not the enemy, and the nostalgic countryside cannot offer us all salvation. Cities are sites of intense consumerism and superficial relations. The countryside can be a place of closeminded mentalities and inbred pessimism. So what am I fighting? I am fighting against a life of extremes. Against a life without hope, without thought, without passion, without love. Against a motonized world filled with self serving, bland, disconnected individuals. That can happen in the country and in the city. That's how the world works. And right now, more than anything, we need to bring out the best of everyone and every place. We need the progressive thoughts of the city and the natural connection of the country. We need the work ethic, reliable qualities of the conservatives and the free thinking, accepting mind of the liberals. We need the hope and optomism of each and every person. We need it all and more so that our world can be one of love, hope, connection, spark, culture, peace, and beauty. So that our world can be one we are proud to call home, we are honored to love, and we are grateful to share.
What I learned was not small. What I learned was not easy. The emotions I have experienced over the past six months were the strongest I have ever felt. I have never been happier, and I have never been more sad. I have never been more certain, and I have never been more filled with doubt. I have never been more present, and I have never been more lost. These answers are not final. These lessons are not over. My journey does not end here. This is simply another transition. Another movement. The adventure continues. The spark spreads. Today is beautiful, and tomorrow will be just as spectacular. This much I know for sure.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Una campesina por siempre--A farmer for always (Wednesday, April 27--Day 169)
There are few things I know for certain. In fact, the more I learn, the smaller that list becomes. But there is at least one things at this stage of my life that I can say with confidence and with gusto--I will always be a farmer. The obvious similarities need no explanation. Brilliant, hard working, nature loving. Obvious. What I am referencing is something found at the core of a great farmer. It is at the center of who he is and at the base of all he does.
Picture a farmer as the individual who can feed his family from his crops and from what his neighbors supplement, and he still has enough left over to sell to his community for a small profit. This farmer--a great farmer--always has the bigger picture in mind. He knows what his end product will look like. He knows what he will be able to improve upon years in the future. He knows what he is working towards. But in order to move towards that final picture, he must live in the present moment. He must pay attention to the most minute details. He must be attentive and attuned to his surroundings. He must know the ins and the outs of whatever crops he is working with. He must constantly keep in mind the impacts of the environment. Whatever changes happen--be it a slight change in the weather or a minor quirk in a particular plant--he can respond accordingly. He can make the necesary alterations to his routine or to the environment so that his product still continues on the path of his choosing. This does not make him manipulative--it makes him empathetic. He pays attention so that when a plant or an animal, at whatever stage of development, appears off track he knows how to fix it. This does not mean he is all-knowing. He is just wise. His wisdom comes from his ability to listen--to listen to himself, to listen to his surroundings, and to listen to others. A great farmer knows that his most treasured resource is the shared knowledge of others. As an individual, a farmer is just one man, with one mind and one history and limitted experiences. But as a community, a farmer becomes many, with many minds sharing their unique histories and unlimited experiences. As a community, there is nothing a farmer cannot do. Yes, he will make mistakes--he is human. Yes, there will be rough years when nature doesn't provide--he's human. But a great farmer will weather through and a really great farmer will remain optimistic. In this way, a great farmer--with the help of those around him--will carry himself and the world on his shoulders, providing the priceless gift of life throughthe healthy food he produces with care, love, and consiousness.
That is a great farmer, and that is who I want to be. I, too, have an end goal in mind--a bigger picture of a future world where we live in community with each other and in community with nature. It is idealitic, yes, but no to the point of being impossible. I have been detailing it for months, if not years, and hundreds of thousands of others share the same image. Of course, I have not yet reached the level of 'great farmer' so the image is still lacking in some of the finer details. But the end goal is there, and now I just have to reach it. You may wonder where exactly is the farmwork in that. It's there. If the goal is to live in community, then it is my job to develop the minds of those with whom I will be living. Remember though, a farmer is not manipulative. He is empathetic. This is not about brainwashing, scare tactics, guilt trips, or patronization. Tis is about planting ideas, supporting growth, giving strength, and providing resources. My toold are dialogues, the help of those around me, the surrounding environment, the history, and the power of hope. My actions are like those of a farmer. As a farmer knows the intricacies of each individual specias, I too must learn how each person differs from the next. Every crop is different. Some need more water and others more sun. Some grow best when planted beside another specieas and others need their space. Some grow best in the hot summer and others thrive in the frigid cold. Even two plants of the same species must be seen as unique individuals. Depending on what stage of growth they are in, one may need shade while the other may need to be trimmed. People are no different, and if I hope to converse with them, to inspire them, and to build community then I have to learn what makes each person click, what talent each person has to offer, what each person loves most, and where each person needs to be supported. Empathy. To do that, just as a farmer must consider the qualities of the plant's surrounding environment, I too must note the outside forces that have impacted and continue to impact each person. Where they came from. What pressures they feel. What responsabilities they have. Who has inspired them. What theyfear. The important thing to remember throughout all this is that I cannot do it alone. I must be humble enough to accept help from others, curious enough to ask questions, and wise enough to listen to the very people with whom I am speaking. We have the advantage of living at a time when information and support can be shared with virtually anyone around the world. At the same time, we live in a time when the actions we take impact everyone living on this planet. I am not looking to save the world. I am human. I am not looking to build a cult of drones. You're human. But I have hope and I have endurance. Combine that with the sense o urgency that we face, and I have adrenalyn.
Now I just have to practice and to observe. For some people, this may be the first time that they receive a seed like this. A new idea entirely, or perhaps no one has planted it quite this before. I don't know how they'll respond, so I wait it out. Note the subtle changes and be ready to react to any sign of life. Maybe the response will be positive, and the concepts I planted will sprout. Maybe I'll see no changes at all, but I will trust that years down the line that seed will still be there, waiting for just the right conditions or just the perfect farmer to come along and give that seed life. Maybe they have grown so accustomed to this seed that they have become numb to it all. They have subconsiously built up a resistence such that the things I say are hackneyed. So I learn to say it another way, to plant the seed differently, to support it with different nutrient, to team it up with other ideas. Maybe they are intentionally immune. They are so morally opposed to what I have to say that they will use all their possible strength to counteract my efforts. So I learn to study their surroundings, to see if something is currently blocking their sunshine or is something deep within their roots is sucking their energy. Or maybe I am not dealing with a seed at all. The seed was planted long ago by someone else, and now I have a fully living plantling on the verge of perfection. But it isn't their yet, and I must choose how to react. Do I give it physical personal support and prop it up as it grows? Do I occasionally douse it with other elements knowing that it is fully capable of extracting what it needs on its own? Do I uproot it and plant it in alongside other species that will provide nutritional support? Or do I let it go, trusting that it is strong enough and ready to continue on the right path on its own?
I am a farmer. I plant seeds. I give support. I learn. I am helped. I listen. I have hope. The sun is almsot up, and it is time to start working. Winter will be cold this year, but the weather optimist in me tells me that we are bound to have a beautiful spring.
Picture a farmer as the individual who can feed his family from his crops and from what his neighbors supplement, and he still has enough left over to sell to his community for a small profit. This farmer--a great farmer--always has the bigger picture in mind. He knows what his end product will look like. He knows what he will be able to improve upon years in the future. He knows what he is working towards. But in order to move towards that final picture, he must live in the present moment. He must pay attention to the most minute details. He must be attentive and attuned to his surroundings. He must know the ins and the outs of whatever crops he is working with. He must constantly keep in mind the impacts of the environment. Whatever changes happen--be it a slight change in the weather or a minor quirk in a particular plant--he can respond accordingly. He can make the necesary alterations to his routine or to the environment so that his product still continues on the path of his choosing. This does not make him manipulative--it makes him empathetic. He pays attention so that when a plant or an animal, at whatever stage of development, appears off track he knows how to fix it. This does not mean he is all-knowing. He is just wise. His wisdom comes from his ability to listen--to listen to himself, to listen to his surroundings, and to listen to others. A great farmer knows that his most treasured resource is the shared knowledge of others. As an individual, a farmer is just one man, with one mind and one history and limitted experiences. But as a community, a farmer becomes many, with many minds sharing their unique histories and unlimited experiences. As a community, there is nothing a farmer cannot do. Yes, he will make mistakes--he is human. Yes, there will be rough years when nature doesn't provide--he's human. But a great farmer will weather through and a really great farmer will remain optimistic. In this way, a great farmer--with the help of those around him--will carry himself and the world on his shoulders, providing the priceless gift of life throughthe healthy food he produces with care, love, and consiousness.
That is a great farmer, and that is who I want to be. I, too, have an end goal in mind--a bigger picture of a future world where we live in community with each other and in community with nature. It is idealitic, yes, but no to the point of being impossible. I have been detailing it for months, if not years, and hundreds of thousands of others share the same image. Of course, I have not yet reached the level of 'great farmer' so the image is still lacking in some of the finer details. But the end goal is there, and now I just have to reach it. You may wonder where exactly is the farmwork in that. It's there. If the goal is to live in community, then it is my job to develop the minds of those with whom I will be living. Remember though, a farmer is not manipulative. He is empathetic. This is not about brainwashing, scare tactics, guilt trips, or patronization. Tis is about planting ideas, supporting growth, giving strength, and providing resources. My toold are dialogues, the help of those around me, the surrounding environment, the history, and the power of hope. My actions are like those of a farmer. As a farmer knows the intricacies of each individual specias, I too must learn how each person differs from the next. Every crop is different. Some need more water and others more sun. Some grow best when planted beside another specieas and others need their space. Some grow best in the hot summer and others thrive in the frigid cold. Even two plants of the same species must be seen as unique individuals. Depending on what stage of growth they are in, one may need shade while the other may need to be trimmed. People are no different, and if I hope to converse with them, to inspire them, and to build community then I have to learn what makes each person click, what talent each person has to offer, what each person loves most, and where each person needs to be supported. Empathy. To do that, just as a farmer must consider the qualities of the plant's surrounding environment, I too must note the outside forces that have impacted and continue to impact each person. Where they came from. What pressures they feel. What responsabilities they have. Who has inspired them. What theyfear. The important thing to remember throughout all this is that I cannot do it alone. I must be humble enough to accept help from others, curious enough to ask questions, and wise enough to listen to the very people with whom I am speaking. We have the advantage of living at a time when information and support can be shared with virtually anyone around the world. At the same time, we live in a time when the actions we take impact everyone living on this planet. I am not looking to save the world. I am human. I am not looking to build a cult of drones. You're human. But I have hope and I have endurance. Combine that with the sense o urgency that we face, and I have adrenalyn.
Now I just have to practice and to observe. For some people, this may be the first time that they receive a seed like this. A new idea entirely, or perhaps no one has planted it quite this before. I don't know how they'll respond, so I wait it out. Note the subtle changes and be ready to react to any sign of life. Maybe the response will be positive, and the concepts I planted will sprout. Maybe I'll see no changes at all, but I will trust that years down the line that seed will still be there, waiting for just the right conditions or just the perfect farmer to come along and give that seed life. Maybe they have grown so accustomed to this seed that they have become numb to it all. They have subconsiously built up a resistence such that the things I say are hackneyed. So I learn to say it another way, to plant the seed differently, to support it with different nutrient, to team it up with other ideas. Maybe they are intentionally immune. They are so morally opposed to what I have to say that they will use all their possible strength to counteract my efforts. So I learn to study their surroundings, to see if something is currently blocking their sunshine or is something deep within their roots is sucking their energy. Or maybe I am not dealing with a seed at all. The seed was planted long ago by someone else, and now I have a fully living plantling on the verge of perfection. But it isn't their yet, and I must choose how to react. Do I give it physical personal support and prop it up as it grows? Do I occasionally douse it with other elements knowing that it is fully capable of extracting what it needs on its own? Do I uproot it and plant it in alongside other species that will provide nutritional support? Or do I let it go, trusting that it is strong enough and ready to continue on the right path on its own?
I am a farmer. I plant seeds. I give support. I learn. I am helped. I listen. I have hope. The sun is almsot up, and it is time to start working. Winter will be cold this year, but the weather optimist in me tells me that we are bound to have a beautiful spring.
El Regreso-The Return (Monday, April 24--Day 166)
I will be flying out of Santiago in a week. It has been 166 days since I began this chapter of the grand adventure that is my life. I have known for awhile that this journey was nearing its final days. In fact, since the moment I left on that sunny Wednesday afternoon from Chicago, I have been thinking about my return. Thinking. Not awaiting. Note the word choice. So much for 'Here and Now' I suppose. Writing a blog kept me constantly connected to home, and made it extremely hard to forget my life in the States. But I cannot place the blame entirely on blogwriting. Thinking about my return is part of my natural tendency to critique my surroundings and plan for the future. How does our current lifestyle impact our world and what can I do to make a positive impact? These questions are never far from my mind. Regardless of the causes, these feelings and thoughts about my return are becoming even more frequent, more powerful, and more divided.
Don't be offended when I say that there is a part of me that does not wish to return. I am nervous. I am anxious. Sometimes I can barely breath. I'll miss Argentina and Chile. That is for certain. I'll miss speaking spanish. I'll miss the color and vibrancy of the streets, the houses, and the markets. I'll miss the subtle cultural differences that made each day so fresh and exciting. I'll miss the long busrides through the beautiful countryside peppered with small, family farms. I'll miss living in a country that puts such a grand value and emphasis on agriculture. I'll miss old men in freshly pressed pants and warm sweaters. I'll miss public transportation that picks you up and drops you off in practically any location. I'll miss the family friendly central plazas. I'll miss the signs proudly displaying the public works projects that the government is providing. I'll miss the Chilean flag. I'll miss internet cafes. I'll miss feeling homesick.
Homesick. That alone makes me nervous and anxious. I know that nostalgia can be dangerous and that memories can be deceptive. I know that things change, and that the home I left and the person I was when I left are no longer the same. That's reverse culture shock. Culture shock can be rather daunting. But when you arrive in a new country and a new place, you know it is new so you expect it to be different. Reverse culture shock, the shock you receive upon return to your own country after a long trip, is often more powerful and more subtle. I've experienced it before, and its impacts can be practically debilitating. No two people express the same symptoms. When I came back from Brazil, South Africa, and Vietnam, I had no idea that I was having problems coping. I thought I was strong. I thought I was prepared. I thought I could handle it all. But I crashed and burned. Slowly but surely, I came to realize just how much my re-entrance into the United States was tearing me apart. But I moved on. Eventually I came to terms with what was happening and with how I was feeling, and I am stronger for the experience. For that reason, I doubt that I will undergo such a shock upon my return. I am older and wiser--I know how to use my critical eye to my advantage and I know the changes that I want to make in the States. But also I am more humble and more attuned to the world--I am looking for the support of others and I understand that my return home marks a mere continuation of my journey rather than an end.
More than anything, I am nervous on a more personal, perhaps more selfish, level. If you can believe it, I have grown even more independent, more self-sufficient, more opinionated, and more determined over the past six months. The realist in me knows that these qualities are bound to clash with the lifestyle and opinions of friends, families, and collegues at home. For so long I have had the privelege of freedom. I could spend each and every day walking with the sole purpose of seeing what I'll find. If I chose to do so, I could spend every waking second inside my own head, assessing the state of my surroundings and dreaming of what I could do to make positive changes. I could meet people and make aquaintances, but in every relationship I had the upper hand because I had the power to leave whenever I pleased. I don't like conflict and I don't want to offend people. So naturally, I am genuinely afraid of what life will be like when I must return to a time schedule, when I have to consider the demands and desires of those around me, when I have to explain my thoughts and my emotions to loved ones, when I have to accept the lifestyles of friends and family members even though I am opposed to so many of the actions and thoughts that they have.
I say these things to you now so that you can understand where I am coming from. I am asking a lot. I am asking for you to give me space but also to hold me close. I am asking for you to love me but also to understand why I may be slow to return such emotions. I am asking you to ask me questions but also to accept a wide range of responses. I am asking for you to be empathetic. More than anything, I am asking you to realize that, although I may be afraid and nervous, my anxiety cannot erase my joy and excitement. Every single day, I experience a moment of sheer bliss at the thought of my return. It can come at any moment. I could be staring out the window of a moving bus, pushing my way through a crowded street, or making my way over a sandy hill. But wherever I am, when that emotion hits, I am overwhelment. My smile stretches to the widest possible degree, and I am inclined to skip, to twirl, and to squeal. It's a beautiful feeling, and it is well justified. I have so much to look forward to. The warmest, most loving embrace from my diamond. Being held in the arms of my dad and giving Jeannine the biggest bear hug. Blasting music with my Stttelllaaa. MAN reunions. Late night walks around Boston. Sassy conversations. Deep discussions. Making that first turn into Paradise Valley and knowing that I've come home. Reuniting with my Mountain Sky family.
Thoughts of these moments give me strength. They make me happy in a way that few things can. They alone are strong enough to calm my anxiety and to fill me with excitement. But luckily for me, these thoughts are supported by something else. This something feeds off of my fears and anxieties and it embraces my loves and my joys. It gets my adrenalyn pumping and my passion surging. It is the thought--or rather the knowledge--that I am going to do something great in the United States. I come back a stronger person, a better person. I come back an inspired person, a driven person. I come back with the desire to experience, to build, and to strengthen communities in mi patria. Mi patria. My homeland. I am from the United States. I may be disappointed in what we have become, but I am not ashamed of where I come from. I will not abandon one of the few things I have that is truly mine. Maybe I am a romantic after all. Call it what you will. But I have hope, I have ideas, and I am ready. Change is already happening, and I look forward to being part of a movement that will be responsable for saving us all from ourselves. All beautiful things are worth fighting for. And I can think of nothing can be more beautiful than the people I love and the place I call home.
Don't be offended when I say that there is a part of me that does not wish to return. I am nervous. I am anxious. Sometimes I can barely breath. I'll miss Argentina and Chile. That is for certain. I'll miss speaking spanish. I'll miss the color and vibrancy of the streets, the houses, and the markets. I'll miss the subtle cultural differences that made each day so fresh and exciting. I'll miss the long busrides through the beautiful countryside peppered with small, family farms. I'll miss living in a country that puts such a grand value and emphasis on agriculture. I'll miss old men in freshly pressed pants and warm sweaters. I'll miss public transportation that picks you up and drops you off in practically any location. I'll miss the family friendly central plazas. I'll miss the signs proudly displaying the public works projects that the government is providing. I'll miss the Chilean flag. I'll miss internet cafes. I'll miss feeling homesick.
Homesick. That alone makes me nervous and anxious. I know that nostalgia can be dangerous and that memories can be deceptive. I know that things change, and that the home I left and the person I was when I left are no longer the same. That's reverse culture shock. Culture shock can be rather daunting. But when you arrive in a new country and a new place, you know it is new so you expect it to be different. Reverse culture shock, the shock you receive upon return to your own country after a long trip, is often more powerful and more subtle. I've experienced it before, and its impacts can be practically debilitating. No two people express the same symptoms. When I came back from Brazil, South Africa, and Vietnam, I had no idea that I was having problems coping. I thought I was strong. I thought I was prepared. I thought I could handle it all. But I crashed and burned. Slowly but surely, I came to realize just how much my re-entrance into the United States was tearing me apart. But I moved on. Eventually I came to terms with what was happening and with how I was feeling, and I am stronger for the experience. For that reason, I doubt that I will undergo such a shock upon my return. I am older and wiser--I know how to use my critical eye to my advantage and I know the changes that I want to make in the States. But also I am more humble and more attuned to the world--I am looking for the support of others and I understand that my return home marks a mere continuation of my journey rather than an end.
More than anything, I am nervous on a more personal, perhaps more selfish, level. If you can believe it, I have grown even more independent, more self-sufficient, more opinionated, and more determined over the past six months. The realist in me knows that these qualities are bound to clash with the lifestyle and opinions of friends, families, and collegues at home. For so long I have had the privelege of freedom. I could spend each and every day walking with the sole purpose of seeing what I'll find. If I chose to do so, I could spend every waking second inside my own head, assessing the state of my surroundings and dreaming of what I could do to make positive changes. I could meet people and make aquaintances, but in every relationship I had the upper hand because I had the power to leave whenever I pleased. I don't like conflict and I don't want to offend people. So naturally, I am genuinely afraid of what life will be like when I must return to a time schedule, when I have to consider the demands and desires of those around me, when I have to explain my thoughts and my emotions to loved ones, when I have to accept the lifestyles of friends and family members even though I am opposed to so many of the actions and thoughts that they have.
I say these things to you now so that you can understand where I am coming from. I am asking a lot. I am asking for you to give me space but also to hold me close. I am asking for you to love me but also to understand why I may be slow to return such emotions. I am asking you to ask me questions but also to accept a wide range of responses. I am asking for you to be empathetic. More than anything, I am asking you to realize that, although I may be afraid and nervous, my anxiety cannot erase my joy and excitement. Every single day, I experience a moment of sheer bliss at the thought of my return. It can come at any moment. I could be staring out the window of a moving bus, pushing my way through a crowded street, or making my way over a sandy hill. But wherever I am, when that emotion hits, I am overwhelment. My smile stretches to the widest possible degree, and I am inclined to skip, to twirl, and to squeal. It's a beautiful feeling, and it is well justified. I have so much to look forward to. The warmest, most loving embrace from my diamond. Being held in the arms of my dad and giving Jeannine the biggest bear hug. Blasting music with my Stttelllaaa. MAN reunions. Late night walks around Boston. Sassy conversations. Deep discussions. Making that first turn into Paradise Valley and knowing that I've come home. Reuniting with my Mountain Sky family.
Thoughts of these moments give me strength. They make me happy in a way that few things can. They alone are strong enough to calm my anxiety and to fill me with excitement. But luckily for me, these thoughts are supported by something else. This something feeds off of my fears and anxieties and it embraces my loves and my joys. It gets my adrenalyn pumping and my passion surging. It is the thought--or rather the knowledge--that I am going to do something great in the United States. I come back a stronger person, a better person. I come back an inspired person, a driven person. I come back with the desire to experience, to build, and to strengthen communities in mi patria. Mi patria. My homeland. I am from the United States. I may be disappointed in what we have become, but I am not ashamed of where I come from. I will not abandon one of the few things I have that is truly mine. Maybe I am a romantic after all. Call it what you will. But I have hope, I have ideas, and I am ready. Change is already happening, and I look forward to being part of a movement that will be responsable for saving us all from ourselves. All beautiful things are worth fighting for. And I can think of nothing can be more beautiful than the people I love and the place I call home.
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