Three Month Reflection...sort of.

I just remembered I am a few weeks overdue for my “three month reflection.”

The lower frequency of posts lately is because of two reasons. Firstly, the longer I stay here the less remarkable and notable things seem and the less inclined I am to write about them. Secondly, as my time in Europe is waning I am getting myself out the door and trying to see as much of it as possible, and the more I am away the less I want to write. But I guess I should be writing anyway.

So what’s happened in the past month (and a half)? Wow. A lot. Almost exactly one month ago I took the first steps in making arrangements to come home. A little over one month ago I went to Berlin, which was the start of my travel period. And after that point, life got better.

I finally admitted to myself once and for all that this place, this university, this activity, this everything, is just not for me. Once I accepted that it was ok to feel that way I was able to eliminate a lot of negative emotions. I am not being cowardly by backing down, but instead I am courageous by speaking up and saying “this is not right, I have to change it.” It would have been the easy way out to just keep going because it’s what I was “supposed to do,” but if there’s one lesson I have learned from this mess, it’s that I am the only one who is really looking out for me and taking care of me – and this is what I need to do to take care of me.

I mentioned in a previous post that my trip to Prague was the first time I really felt like “me” since I’ve been in Europe. My trip to Prague was also my first time out of GERMANY since I’ve been over here – and to me that was the difference. When I set foot on German soil I adopted the mindset of “ok, I’m not a tourist here. I live here. I need to blend in, I need to learn the German way of life, I need to act like a German because I live here now.” I put a lot of pressure on myself to become “Germanified,” and as a result a huge dichotomy developed inside me between the person I knew I was and the person I felt like I had to be to fit in here. I like to talk to people, I like to interact with people, I like to smile and be smiled at, I like to occasionally eat lunch with people I don’t know in the cafeteria, I like to know that I can ask strangers questions if I need to without angering them, I like to acknowledge people and be acknowledged. I’m sure you remember from previous posts, but Germans don’t do any of that. It’s a very closed and isolated society here – it’s not a bad thing but very different than what I am used to. In the beginning I felt invisible every time I would smile at people, or got no reaction from people when I was nice and polite and said please and thank you. I tried to learn how to “act German,” but I hated it, because that’s not who I am.

When I went to Prague it was my first time out of the country that was supposed to be my home. I realized that even if I were “German” it wouldn’t matter, because in Prague I wasn’t in Germany anymore and I’d be a tourist either way. I was finally able to shake that ill-fitting temporary German identity and get back in touch with the more authentic Robin. I hadn’t realized how far I had slipped away. It made my return to Germany that much harder because I didn’t want to get swallowed up in that again, and now that I was aware of it all, it was that much more uncomfortable. But I could return with the comfort of knowing that it was only temporary.

Though all these experiences I have learned that I don’t really NEED people – but man, I really miss people. Traveling by yourself is lonely. Living (essentially) by yourself is lonely. Not having a group of people to interact with on a daily basis is lonely. Eating most meals by yourself is lonely. I can do it, I have done it, but I don’t like it. And I’ll be happy to get out of it.

So this month I’ve just been doing a lot of traveling, not only trying to stay out of the environment I dislike as much as possible but also making sure I take advantage of the short time I have left. I’ve been trying to see things instead of writing about things, and trying not to think so much and instead just DO. (Although I did feel the need to write a lot about Paris, because it was also an interesting learning experience.)

I changed trains in Frankfurt on the way back from Paris, and it was a weird experience like going back in time – even though it was only three months ago. Much of the city looked unfamiliar to me, much like how my experiences there now feel, and it made me think about what’s happened since then.

I was a bundle of nerves before I got on the plane to Germany, of course, and in a conversation with Chris I remember saying/asking/worrying “ok, so I get to Frankfurt…then what? Once I get off the plane, what do I do?” He just calmly told me “you’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. You’ll get a taxi, you’ll get to the hotel, then you’ll figure it out.” Of course he was right, and looking back on it all and seeing what I’ve done since then, I’m pretty proud of how far I’ve come.

Not only did I “figure it out” once I got to Frankfurt, but I have also traveled to several cities in several countries – oftentimes by myself – since then. I planned my own trips from start to finish. I mastered the Paris metro system, I navigated the streets of Berlin, I survived in countries where I did not speak the language – and used only my own knowledge, capabilities, and common sense. And a map. It’s not an experience like navigating the Yukon wilderness or the open ocean, but it builds character just the same. I have learned how to rely on myself and be successful.

Back to Frankfurt. After three months of Dresden, living in an internationally diverse city with a group of solid friends and a program that was interested in our wellbeing seems like a dream. Why was that month so hard? Why was I unhappy?

After looking back, I think Dresden and Frankfurt fall on two opposite ends of the spectrum, where the optimal situation is in the middle. To me, Frankfurt meant limits. I felt like someone was holding my reins and wasn’t letting me reach my full potential – yeah, I was speaking German, but not as much and not as well as I knew I was capable of in another situation. Yeah, I had friends, and luckily they were nice people, but because I was in an international language school with no interaction to the outside community I couldn’t look further. There was no life outside of language school and the explorations we created for ourselves – a bunch of Americans with varying knowledge of German attempting to learn this unfamiliar city. There were no other activities available. I looked forward to Dresden because it meant opportunities and growth and expanding boundaries.

How wrong I was. Dresden instead also meant zero opportunities – but for a different reason than Frankfurt. Dresden meant I couldn’t participate in potential activities, that I stood on the sidelines and watched, that I couldn’t get my foot in the door enough to be noticed and be allowed to be included. It meant seeing opportunities just beyond the horizon but never being given the tools needed to succeed.

Like I said, Frankfurt and Dresden are on two different ends of the spectrum – I have learned that in order for me to be happy I don’t want walls and a ceiling, but I do need a ladder. Or at least the tools to build my own ladder.