Jet-lagged Thoughts

July 7^th or 8^th, 2019

Time is a Construct (and I have no idea)

With 4 ½ hours left on a 14-hour flight, my eyes are red and my butt is sore. I’ve still got another layover in Seoul, South Korea before I fly and land in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. It’s hard to believe that this is the path that I’ve chosen and also been so lucky to get. It’s hard to believe that I was once the small girl that would cry at sleepovers because I missed home so much. In fact, one of my major reasons for picking Nebraska Wesleyan for college was solely based on its proximity to home. But now I keep resorting to that cheesy quote from Divergent, in which the main character is trying to decide whether she wants to stay in her own faction or change, away from her family and friends; away from the life she’s always known: “I’m scared it will tell me I’m Abnegation, that I have to leave my family. But I’m even more scared that it will tell me to stay.”

I understand this. I’ve been fortunate enough to travel a lot throughout college, but after going to Puerto Rico on a spring break trip to help with hurricane relief, it was like finding a part of myself I was longing for, a part I didn’t even know I was missing but desperately needed. (Also, note that Puerto Rico is a territory of the United States!) Maybe it’s unfair of me to generalize, but in my experience, most people love to travel and explore foreign countries, but they always get homesick, and by the end of their trip, they are ready to come home. I’ve never felt this. I don’t view it as a negative feeling, just a feeling in itself. I’m more comfortable abroad, in places where often I don’t even know the language. (Although, I plan on becoming fluent in Spanish in Uruguay and want to learn another language after that.) 

I didn’t even realize this about myself until I was applying for this program and was very anxious about what I would do if I didn’t get in. I recall a particular conversation with Eduardo Bousson, the campus minister at Nebraska Wesleyan, and one of the most genuine human beings I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.

With definite panic in my voice I told him, “This is all I’ve thought about and want to do, but what if I don’t get in? I don’t know what I’ll do. I literally don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t stay here.”

Eduardo’s reply? “Madeline, I’ve seen you when you’re traveling. You’re a completely different person. Or rather, you’re more yourself. Being abroad is a part of who you are. Whether this works out or not, it’s going to happen for you because you’ll make it happen.”

I instantly felt my shoulders relax. He was right. I don’t just want to live a life like this. I need to live my life like this. (Thankfully, I didn’t have to come up with a plan B!)

Since announcing my plans to be in Cambodia for 3 weeks and then Uruguay for 2 years, I’ve had an immense amount of support from my friends, my parents, and the First United Methodist Church in Hastings.

People come up to me and say things like, “Wow, we are so proud of you. You’re so brave!”

I never know how to respond to this. Obviously I’m so appreciative, but that last line gets me every time: “You’re so brave.” To be completely honest, I don’t feel brave at all. I just feel like I’m doing what I’m meant to do, which to me, is no different than the rest of my fellow peers that have decided to continue to go on to graduate school or go into the workforce. They’ve all made commitments of two years or longer, but I’m still unsure about what will happen after my two years are up. Will I continue this path? A large portion of me definitely hopes so, but of course, I don’t want to make decisions for my future self.

It’s funny to think back to my younger self. (Heck, I’m still young.) But even looking back to my freshman year of college, I see so much change. If you had told my 18-year-old self that I would want to live and work abroad for my whole life, I would have laughed in your face while continuing to sip on my earl grey tea. Today, I’m still sipping on that tea, but I’m doing so with a passport in my hand.

In the words of the great philosopher Phoebe Buffay: “Plan? I don’t even have a pla-,” but for now, I think I’m okay with that.