There is the quaintness and comfort of a small city, the bustling wonders of a capital city. Sometimes I found myself gazing upon feats of architecture – looming churches, gilded opera houses, or famous statues – while at other times I preferred to immerse myself in local spaces like coffee shops and secluded parks. While tourist attractions are great, they do not capture the essence of the city, its people, its history.
I remember roaming the streets of Florence at night talking, laughing with friends I had met a week ago but felt like I had known for lifetimes. I remember sitting on an old Italian fortress in Naples, watching musicians and puppeteers on the bridge while people began to dance. I had the most wonderful time visiting my long-distance friends in Leipzig, Germany where I was taken to all of their local spots: walking through vacant streets and a pier by the lake. It was astounding to see how small and common the city of Pisa was, considering it housed one of the seven wonders of the world, but while I reminisce about my visit there, the moments I shared with my friends while we explored the town are shrouded in warmth.
wNonetheless, there were various other struggles I hadn’t expected before going abroad: I was sent across the world to a city that bore no resemblance to what I was used to. It was the intentional act of throwing myself into unfamiliarity and forcing myself to keep an open mind even in situations of hostility and homesickness.
I found amenity in routine, and after living in Florence, Italy for nearly eight months, I shifted my mindset, schedule, and priorities to fit my surroundings. I fell in love with my beautiful campus located on the suburban hills of Tuscany, the walk down to my favorite study cafe in the city, and swinging my legs off of a bridge named Ponte Vecchio as I watched the sunset. Although I grew to enjoy my time there and acknowledged the limitations that came with Italy’s extreme preservation of their city and culture, it was a journey – something that did not come to me right away. However, by the end of my stay, I could recognize how this preservation allowed for little pockets of beauty to exist across the country. Italy also taught me to have respect for the arts.derstanding of human psychology and history.
I lost myself in statues, how they captured the beautiful curves and edges of the human form, paintings that expressed love, chaos, loss. I once found museums claustrophobic and boring, but I discovered that they deepened my understanding of human psychology and history.
I would also describe my study abroad experience as a constant state of movement, grasping onto moments of respite in between my travels. Eventually, I found familiarity in traveling, which turned into a source of freedom and happiness. I loved the sense of escape, the fascination of being in a new city, the nerves I experienced while gripping my armrests as the little European plane trembled its way through turbulence.
The unfamiliarity I felt in Italy was not as prominent in northern Europe where cities were more modernized, less touristy, and had recognizable chains from America. Bergen, Norway was one of my favorite travel destinations – a small, quiet city surrounded by mountains and fjords, also hovering right about 32 °F when I visited at the beginning of April. Amidst the random downpours of freezing rain, I found an unusual level of peace in this city as we toured the fish markets, its natural landmarks, and parts of their old city. I felt a similar way during my visits to Germany where, even though it was my first time there, there was something homely to it. They welcomed change, the people were patient with me as I stumbled through German words, I loved their (almost humorously) strict adherence to the rules, their music scene, and their crazy nightlife. I was intrigued by how the Germans fused modernity and history to rebuild their cities after the wars. For example, in Hamburg, the signature red brick structures from the 1920’s neighbored strikingly modern buildings made of glass and steel. It has always been my dream to visit this country, and over the year I was abroad, I went back three times chasing the innate connection I had with Germany.
I feel so lucky to have had the opportunity to travel and educate myself about the world. It was not just about frolicking around Europe as most people described to me, but a truly eye-opening experience into other cultures and their ways of life – the act of sitting in discomfort and change. I think it is necessary for all people to lead with curiosity before cultural superiority or animosity, and to learn adaptation before resistance to lessen the polarization of our thoughts and values.
By Serin Lee
