Thirteen months ago, I came back and Cleveland was the same, but I was different.  People didn’t know how to approach me and I didn’t feel the way I did when I left.  I had missed out on the movies and music and TV of the last eight months. I didn’t know what Jersey Shore was and I hadn’t seen Avatar.  I thought Boom Boom Pow was new (it wasn’t).  And I had missed the closing of this bar and the opening of that one.  Everything was new to me and old to everyone else and the strangest thing about coming home was that I was the foreigner. 

Eventually that would become less evident, as I caught up on entertainment and sports and my friends lives that I hadn’t kept up with as well as I should have.  Over the last year (and one month) I have seamlessly blended myself back into life in the US and from the outside it all looks normal.  But every so often I think about where I was a year ago at this time and I miss the Christmas stalls in the plazas of Madrid.  And I swear I can still smell Morocco- that unforgettable mix of spices, hookah, motorbikes, and sweet orange juice.  And as the months progress, I will remember each place for everything it was: the smells, tastes, sounds, and ambiance.  The people.  How they looked and how they spoke. 

I was home for two months before moving out to Los Angeles to pursue a new career.  So what have I learned?  What information can I glean from the experience that physically ended a little over a year ago, but remains at the forefront of my mind?  A few things, actually.  (Come on, you didn’t think it would end and that would be it, did you?)  It took me some time and distance to get the appropriate perspective on the entire eight-month situation and, to be honest, I think I’m still discovering how the adventure changed me.

Perhaps a summary and some final thoughts are in order…

1. I am way better at bad/gross/tough living conditions than I thought.  I’m less appalled by dirt/grime/having to change my own sheets in a hostel when I don’t have a choice.  The most important thing is getting in off the street and into bed before having to wake up early to go see pyramids or get on a bus to the next place.  I’m ok with packing grimy laundry next to clean laundry.  And I know things aren’t always as dirty as I think they are.  Sometimes they are worse.
2. I am more tolerant of some people and less tolerant of many more.  The phrase “you don’t know a man until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes” comes to mind.  I’ve walked many miles and there are some views I still don’t agree with, namely those of intolerance.  And there are some I have come to see as wholly accurate.  As in, yes, Americans are the loudest tourists out there.  It’s embarrassing on the one hand.  On the other, you know where you can always find your own.  And how horrible their flight was/hotel conditions are/latest family drama caused by taking this “overly-expensive-during-a-recession” vacation. 
3. People will question anything you do that’s out of the ordinary.  They will tell you that you’re crazy and criticize you down to the last detail of your plan (or lack there of).  They’ll tell you it’s not the right time or that you should stay and work the job you despise because it provides security.  And sadly, som will disagree with you to the point where you have nothing in common anymore.  They won’t understand you and you won’t understand them and they’ll fade out of your life.  Sadly, they will question you until they see you have actually made it work.  Then they’ll just think it’s cool.  (And they’re right.  It is cool.)
4. Nothing seems as challenging after breaking out of the gripping thought that “I have to take this path because it is normal and the one that is expected of me”.
5. There’s still so much to see and I have only begun to explore this giant world.  And it’s not just the places that I have left to explore.  There are cultures to experience, different foods to try, holidays to celebrate, people to meet.  There are ideas (both good and bad) swirling out there in the world, floating in and out of different countries and the only way to truly understand them is to go and be involved in them.  Talk to the people, but more importantly just ask questions and listen.  Know that I’m not always right and I don’t always know, but I’m always willing to learn.  And sometimes that’s more valuable than all the information in the world.
6. Whether you stay at the Ritz or a hole in the wall with a tiny bathroom that barely holds the sink, toilet, and stall shower, the Eiffel Tower is the Eiffel Tower and that’s what’s important to me.  I have the rest of my life to search for the perfect, ergonomically correct bed and a marble bathtub.  It’s all part of the journey and as long as it’s decently clean and the hot water runs for at least 10 minutes, I can deal with that.
7. As for Eric and me… what did I learn there?  Say you’re sorry and let it go.  Even when you want to defenestrate someone, you don’t always have that choice (and sometimes you’re on the first floor, so what good would it do anyway?).  You need a good partner when you’re a world away and that’s all you have.  Lean on someone else.  Exploit your strengths and know you’re weaknesses (um, like don’t try to cook or find directions to anything.  But those are just examples…).  And even though we are no longer together, I will always look back on this experience with love and appreciation.  He was part of every memory and I don’t regret that.  Not even for a minute.
8. Finally: Dorothy said it best: there’s no place like home.  Because after everything I had experienced and every boat, train, bus, plane, and taxi that took me to a new destination and left me wide-eyed upon exiting, my heart still nearly exploded with excitement upon seeing my parents waiting for me at the airport in my hometown.  No matter where I go or what I do, that feeling will always remain.  And there’s nothing in the world that can change that.

And now I’m out in LA working on a new career in a new place.  I’m starting over again.  And though the language and currency are familiar, the culture is foreign to me.  I have had to make new friends and create something out of nothing.  It hasn’t been easy so far, but honestly, if I can go (almost) around the world, I must be able to do this. 

Maybe that’s the most important thing I learned from all this: all it takes is a little courage and the belief that no matter what, I will succeed.  So here we go again; today has become the new adventure.

Thank you for reading. 

Rachel