Ain't It Fun

When I was younger, I never wanted to let go of anything; I would have to say goodbye to every single part of a hotel before I left, from the bed to the pool to the bathtub to those stupid plastic hanger bags nestled in the closets. I think being in a more innocent state of mind, the world is clearer (or perhaps it's more like one of those neato instagram filters...?) and you can appreciate life to a completely different extent. Awareness of evil really hinders one's ability to appreciate.

As I walk down the roads here in Istanbul, I've covered my body--wearing my uncomfortably hot winter clothes--, I made sure to put on my cold, hard New Yorker persona, and I have kept a firm awareness of my peripheries. When I came to Turkey as a child, I didn't have to pat my pockets every few minutes, I didn't have to squint my eyes at passing "strange" men, I didn't have the memory of 9/11 in my mind, and I had no awareness of what made me any different from these beautiful people. The wonder of my first trip outside America took hold and there was so much that made this land magical, wonderful, and absolutely enchanting.

I hate how jaded I've become and I really wonder when it started to take root. Although the abolition of innocence is by far very beneficial for avoiding trouble (for example: I have never felt the need to hug a homeless person or walk around Brooklyn barefoot), it also relinquishes feelings that are spontaneous and, dare I say, fun.

I remember entering Milan and thinking, "when can I go back to NYC?" My benevolence for change has definitely been in some ways acquired in the Big Apple. When you live in debatably the best city in the world, traveling just isn't the same. I remember a friend at Pratt saying she wouldn't consider studying abroad because "NYC is pretty much like studying abroad...it's like it's own country", and indeed it is. And I guess growing up really leaves you feeling like you need to find permanent shelter. Now that we have the choice to move on from the stability of our parents' homes, we need search out our own stability. Change is scary. New things are scary. New people are scary. And not looking like the people around you sure as hell is a lot scarier now then it was when the worst someone could do to you was steal your new box of crayons.

Ain't it fun living in the real world?

Saying Goodbye

I left June 16, 2013 at 6:00pm.

It's weird to think, but I've completely eradicated Italy of my presence. After a total of 104 days, I can safely say that I've lived in another country. Probably not for long enough, but I lived, and I survived. I'll be returning to life as usual on Thursday, which is the weirdest part of all. I can't say I loved every moment of my trip, but I think it has become an invaluable experience that I'll be able to reference for the rest of my life. It has become a part of me.

I haven't cried except for a close call two times when I was talking to a close friend on the phone the day before I left and again when he came to say goodbye in person. I've been very good about crying, I suppose.

I feel like I'm usually quite the sentimental person, but leaving didn't really feel like saying "goodbye." Years ago I'm sure it would have felt more permanent, but with the prevalence of facebook and free texting apps I feel like I will being seeing many of my friends again, Milan or elsewhere. We live in such a connected world and I'm lucky to live in one of the prime destinations for international and business travel so I'm sure I will be seeing plenty of these friendly faces very soon.