on being in two places at once

until now, i've dedicated this blog to the exciting/humourous/pleasurable bits of my experiences here. now i want to open up a window into a part of my smaller, daily reality; what goes on when i'm not distracted by amazing architecture or stunning vistas. i'm not playing down the "highs", so to speak, just injecting a dose of reality by letting you know a little about the "lows" as well. here goes...

there were a lot of things they didn't tell me during our compulsory (and thus far, useless--at least to me) study abroad orientation. they didn't tell me that i would be living on potatoes, or that i would become addicted to chocolate-covered digestives, that it would be cheapest to travel by train, or that it would cost more than a dollar to send a postcard home. they lectured me about not losing my passport or my tickets, about making sure i could pick up my own suitcase, and about being a "good representative of the linfield community", but what they really failed to mention was anything meaningful about the reality of living abroad. they tossed in the catch phrase "homesickness," and warned us not to fall prey to it, but they never told us what that might mean for our experience while abroad. for me, "homesickness" is a daily reality that i like to call "being in two places at once".
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i knew, before i left for this trip, that being away from home for such a length of time would be really difficult for me. last year was just so packed with amazing--so much growth and discovery and pure joy--that there was no way that the transition would be easy. i felt like i had finally found home again (an idea that had started to drift away sometime toward the end of my freshman year)--a place where i belonged, with people who knew me and understood me and genuinely cared about me. i experienced the greatest academic challenges of my life so far, and for the most part was able to rise to the occasion. i struggled through leadership challenges and stressful schedules, and learned a lot about myself through that.
and i found love, and embarked on a whole new journey there. pretty much just as i was starting to piece together a life that i was feeling and loving with my entire being, i decided to pack a few pictures, and plunk myself down in a situation that i had never seen before.

where i landed in was not entirely unfamiliar: i had, after all, started from scratch just a couple of years ago when i came to college--a new place, new people, new opportunities and ways of doing things. here i ended up in a dorm full of 18 year old freshmen, still high on the idea of freedom with a capital "F". they were itching to get out, par-tay, and "meet" people (as much as that is possible after consuming copious quantities of alcohol), and i found myself distancing myself from that. i'd done it once (minus the alcohol part), and didn't quite feel up to pushing myself that way again. that worked out okay, as i fell in with some other, older students who likewise felt no need to partake in 'freshman year madness, round two'. what i found myself longing for most, during the first weeks of being here, was some sort of normalcy. i absolutely craved the start of classes, where i would once again be in a realm that i knew i could navigate. so classes began, and i started to grasp a stronger footing. then i went out for the ultimate frisbee team here, and met some really cool people who could have fun without alcohol being involved (on the field at least). and then i started traveling. and you would think that all of that activity would have to be the solution to this issue of homesickness.

the reality of homesickness is that it isn't that simple. you can't distract yourself 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for almost 5 months... it's just not happening. i found that every moment i wasn't otherwise engaged, i would be (and still am) overwhelmed with a longing for home. more recently, i have been realizing just how much of myself i left at home. i left a lot of my heart there: it's tied up in erik, and in becca and sam and joy and all my other friends... in my favorite corners all over campus, in the SO-AN department where i spent half my life last year, in the familiar smell of the melrose hall classrooms, in the hugs and smiles i am so lucky to share and see every day at home. homesickness is far more than just being lonely, or missing silly things like peanut butter: it's coming to the realization that you've split yourself into two pieces, stretched across enormous distance, and that you have to learn to live with the constant ache that follows.

this doesn't mean that i'm not having fun here. not at all. i'm having an amazing time traveling, i've met cool people, i'm having a blast playing frisbee, and classes are interesting and stimulating. but, it does mean that when the distractions fade away, and i find myself alone at night in my room, that i am far less than happy. in those moments, i often dissolve into tears, as i (unfortunately) dwell on the fact that i'm missing out on things at home, as i count the weeks and then the days until i will be flying back and realize how far away it really is, as i wish that i could sit down and have a talk with friends over tea, or crawl into bed for a cuddle with my love. sometimes the harsh reality that none of that is happening for a long time yet is just too much to bear. sometimes i'm really sensitive to little things: like seeing a couple walk by holding hands, or a nearby group of friends burst out in laughter. other days i just feel so shut down, and i'll have trouble getting motivated to do things like homework or going for a run. i sometimes feel like i walk through the day like a zombie, not really here, because that part of me i left at home is tugging extra hard for some reason.
most days i can fight it off, thanks to the necessity of class, the fun planning my next adventure, and that life-saver called skype. others i don't, though, and i worry that this constant torn feeling will end up holding me back. i don't want it to prevent me from doing things (though i really don't think that it has yet), or enjoying them as much as i should. i want to be present to what is happening in my life, since that made such a difference for me last year, but i'm finding it difficult. i think that this is just a new reality that i need to learn how to deal with, and i'm learning to do that (my journal is my best friend). but, let me tell you this: being in two places at once isn't as romantic as it's made out to be.

but, never fear my friends--i still laugh as loud as ever, and say random things that don't make sense, and do awkward celebratory dances. the picture here is proof of that. :)

i also want to send a quick thank you to all of the people who have been so supportive of me:
erik--thank you for keeping me sane, love. i don't know if i could have gotten this far without you being there for me at every turn. :)
becca--thank you for still sending me notes "just because", even though i'm an ocean away.
sam--thanks for diligently reading and commenting on my blog. and for sending me letters in hello kitty envelopes.
joy--thank you so much for sending me your music so i can listen to your voice!
nadia--thanks for swapping frustrations with me. we'll get through this together. :)
ansley--i can't wait to see you and talk to you in person! until then, thanks for your wonderful, supportive emails.
brett--thanks for being ridiculous like you always are!
jesse--thanks for giving really good hugs and amazing travel suggestions.
katie (williams, that is: i know a lot of katies)--thanks for being an amazing travel buddy!
emily--thanks for making me laugh, and for laughing at me. i appreciate it a lot!
katie (ouzounian): thanks for being amazing, and for asking me the questions that inspired this post to begin with.
mom and dad--thanks for keeping me up to date on the homeplace, per usual. i'm glad to hear that life is still sort-of normal in some places! :)

cheers,
b