In a way, I suppose studying abroad is sort of like college, just all compressed into one magical year. You're in a different place with more independence than you've ever known, with strange people who aren't all from your home (except home now means the United States instead of just a suburb in New Jersey).
You get there and are in awe at first, then get frustrated and maybe lonely for a day or two, but after a bit, you wonder how you ever lived without this place. And then, it has to end. And by this point, you've grown and changed so much that you can no longer even quantify the experience. And in a few years, you'll look back on it and part of you will wonder how it could ever have been real.
Now I'm going to babble.
I've read that 80 percent of Americans do not have passports. Please don't be one of them. As clichéd as this may sound, there is an entire world out there just waiting for you to explore. Why don't you go to Spain and see what it's actually like, so that next time you read a novel that takes place there, you don't immediately imagine the streets lined with flamenco dancers as mandolins and castanets play in the background? Why not go to a Third World country or an ex-Soviet country and see how the other half lives and how everywhere is not always as smiling and pleasant as "It's a Small World" makes it out to be? Why not pick one place that you've always dreamed of going, be it the Louvre or the pyramids, or one thing you've always dreamed of doing, be it seeing a play at the Globe or skiing the Alps, save up a little cash, and do it instead of dreaming about it?
And who knows, how about considering living outside the star-spangled States for a while? You're in your early 20s with barely any responsibilities, obligations or things tying you down - no longtime career, spouse, kids or mortgage. Take advantage of it. One of the things that surprised me the most about the second half of this year was when I realized how in love I am with London. I expected to miss it, but I always thought the return to the States would be a welcome one. As time passed, however, I began to seriously question what lay in store for me after the end of next year. And the more I think about it, the more I may try to make being an expatriate a reality.
Even in somewhere as "close" to America as England, you'll find that parts of life are just completely different once you live there. You may not face a language barrier, but for the first time, you realize you don't understand the subtle pop culture references (have any of you heard of "Time Trumpet?") or you need to deal with the fact that you immediately stick out like a sore thumb due to your accent. But after a while, instead of frustrating, these challenges become something you embrace, something that makes you distinct and maybe even forces you to try a little bit harder.
So what surprised me about this year? I expected to travel; I expected to grow. I didn't expect the more subtle things: that I feel like I'm more connected to London than I've ever been to Boston. I now know the city and have really explored all that it has to offer. I now truly feel like a Londoner and like I haven't squandered my opportunities here. As I write this column, I have seen only two movies and over 20 plays. I picked up some slang and even slight hints of a Manchester accent (don't ask why Manchester instead of London). I actually made British friends. In September, I was thinking that I already had enough friends and didn't expect to make strong bonds in less than a year. Boy, was I wrong. Not only did I make friends, but I really feel that, thanks to the wonder of the Internet, some of them will last. Now, I feel just as reluctant to leave them as I felt about leaving my Tufts friends back in September.
I admit, I was guessing I would have a hard time getting on that plane in June, but right now it's still May, and I'm blown away by how unfathomable that idea is to me.
Thanks to everyone who read this and "Bangers and Mash" over the past year, listened to me vent and rave, took some of my advice and maybe even silently cheered me, whether I was going to and from exotic locales or just trying to deal with the lack of Dunkin' Donuts in the good ol' United Kingdom. Your readership, comments and e-mails really meant a lot to me.
Also, I promise that if I return with a column next year, it won't be as mushy as this one. My mind has been opened, but some of that old cynicism will never go away.
Devin Toohey is a junior majoring in classics. He can be reached at Devin.Toohey@tufts.edu.
