Thursday, February 3, 2011

Journal 1: Travel Writing

I am and have always been a people person. I think the small-town feel of where I grew up instilled that quality deep within me. It is one of those “everyone knows everyone towns”- Crofton, Maryland. You can’t possibly go to the grocery store, for a run, or to the post office without it being a long ordeal because you run into five or so people who want to chat.

For years I loathed people who grew up in the hustle and bustle of NYC or Washington, DC. I was convinced that is where I would go to college, a huge city that could fulfill the craving for sky scrappers and business people in suits with sneakers rushing to their big wig jobs. I went to NYC at least twice a year growing up, but mid-way through high school something changed. All of a sudden the glitz and glamour turned into loud, annoying taxi drivers beeping and this ungodly stench of cheap hot dogs. That night when we drove home and I stepped out of the car I smelt the fresh air of Crofton, said hello to my neighbors who were bringing out their trash bins, and waved to the ice cream man, Charlie, the same man who had delivered popsicles to my door since age four. I was never happier to be home. That was me; I was a small town girl.

Upon searching for where I would go abroad I didn’t want to go to Paris or London. Though they seemed amazing and lavish, I wanted that small town charm. That was where my heart truly was. Conversations with locals in pubs and being able to walk down the street or go to the grocery store and say hello to my classmates and neighbors was an important component of the study abroad experience for me. Five months into my eleven-month encounter I can say I have accomplished that image of small town charm in Leuven, Belgium.

Almost every other city I visit the conversation goes as follows:

“Oh you’re a yank, what brings you to Ireland? Scotland? Spain? Germany? France?”

“I am studying abroad in Belgium for the year!”

“Belgium” (laughter) “Why, Belgium, it’s so…. Small”

“Exactly, that’s what I love about it!!”

I spend a lot of time explaining to individuals why I am here and what I am doing with my time in dreary, Belgium for an entire year. Yes, I will admit it rains a hell of a lot more than anyone told me, and days with blue skies are far and few between. But, the way I see it, I am not just on some vacation for a semester; I live here. I call Leuven home. I go to the grocery store, post office, do my laundry, go to the gym, go to the movies and go to school. All the other places I have the opportunity of traveling to while conveniently located in the center of Europe, that’s my traveling. Belgium, Belgium is my home away from home. Leuven is my Crofton right now. I have a routine, my life is here.

Grace is the kind woman who cleans the building I live in. Grace and I always see each other at the grocery store on Mondays. She always shops on Mondays. Sharon is a lady at the market who sells the biggest grapes I have ever seen. Evelien is a kind Belgian student who is like the head elf; she always knows the best restaurants and places to go out each night. Harold is the man at station 6 that I always hope to get when I go to the post office because he has the funniest jokes and Stein is the lady at the bank who bless her heart helped me replace my ATM card that the machine ate the other day while simultaneously helping me practice my Dutch. Grace, Sharon, Evelien, Harold, and Stein are just a few examples of people that I personally know who live in the town of Leuven. People I say hello to when I walk down the street. People who know my name, who I am, not just that I am an American. It is small, everyday connections that I have made that make me feel at home. Crofton doesn’t seem so far away in moments like that.

I will admit, saying goodbye to Crofton at Christmas was a little harder than I thought. I loved Leuven, why was I sad to go back? The daunting thought of exams? Perhaps. Or was it the thought that this feeling of visiting home, Crofton, was more reality for the near future than I had realized? That plane ride back to Belgium was a sleepless night listening to my John Mayer play list over and over again. Eight hours on a plane in the dark gives you a lot of time to think.

This was a really good time for me to spend a year away from home, from my family, from my friends, from my boyfriend, and from my daily life for one main reason: it further proved to me that it doesn’t matter where I am in the world I can remain as close to them as ever. Thanks to technology and the strong bonds I have formed over the years my family, friends, and boyfriend have remained incredibly supportive of this year. Crofton is the place where I grew up yes, but it is the people there that have made me who I am. That will never change, no matter where life takes me.

Leuven will always remain a place I lived for a year, but the friends I met and people I encounter daily here is what will remain a part of me. Yes, the places you go do shape you to be who you are, but even more so are the people who you come across and touch your life. If there is anything I hope to further get out of this astounding experience it is to form closer bonds with my Belgian and international friends. To continue to travel and taste the foods, see the sights, and photograph them as to capture the moments I once felt. But, more importantly, never forget the meaningful conversations you have over a Bulmer’s apple cider with an old Irish grandpa in Galway, an immigrant from Nigeria living in Paris selling postcards, or a woman selling grapes the size of peaches in the Leuven market. The people to people connections will forever shape me into the person I am continuing to become.

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