Thursday, July 11, 2013

See You Later, Edinburgh

I can account for my lateness in this post through the fact that a week after I returned to the good old U.S. of A. I started my summer job and my summer class at almost the same time.  I have had little time to breath, let alone write anything beyond what my German summer class requires.  I wanted to write one more piece - a reflection on my experiences in Edinburgh, a way to let myself say goodbye to Scotland, and a way to even out my post count to 10.

Five months is a long time to spend away from home, especially one such as myself who has never gone beyond the east coast of the States by herself.  The vacations I've spent elsewhere have always been with family, so I was never alone, and I never had to completely rely on myself the way I did traveling to and from Scotland.  On that same note, I never had to worry about anyone other than myself.  My flight back home was as peaceful as it was saddening.  I arrived at the airport two hours before my flight's departure via a lovely cab ride through the city at 6:00 A.M.  The city was quiet, the only people awake on their way to work or school.  I've never considered myself a morning person by any means, but that morning was as content and peaceful for me as sitting with a good book and a warm cat to snuggle with is.  I was on my way home, to see all the people I'd been missing for five months - how could I not be happy?  But at the same time, I was upset that I had to leave the city I'd fallen in love with.  I suppose my subconscious reaction was to just accept it, and be content - otherwise, I probably would have been crying the whole trip back home, and even beyond into the next few days.

The flight was easy - I had a window seat and the middle seat was empty, so I had plenty of room to stretch out and obnoxiously take up more room than I'd paid for.  I watched three movies and dozed occasionally, making the seven hour flight much more bearable.  Getting through the airport in Newark was definitely the most stressful part of the journey - I had to go through immigration, then pick up both my huge check-in suitcases, take those through customs, get in line to put them back on my next flight, get through security, and find out my gate had been changed last minute.  But I made it to my gate, where I sat, breathed in a deep lungful of that noxious American air, and turned on my beautiful, beautiful cell phone for the first time in months.  I called my parents to check in and let them know I wasn't huddled in a corner somewhere having a panic attack, then send out a message to my friends and boyfriend - 'Back in the States!'  The fact that I could now message them with no problem made me giddy.

Soon enough, I was on my short, hour long flight to D.C.  where my father awaited me to bring me home.  My luggage was successfully obtained, my father found, and off I was back to my parents house.  My mother attacked me with hugs as soon as I walked in the door, the cats fled from me because they'd forgotten who I was, and I relished in the smell of home.  As strongly as I'd wanted to stay in Scotland while I was still there, I was so happy to be home that I could barely spare a thought to Edinburgh.

Now that I've been home for a while and have adjusted back to America, I've been thinking more about Edinburgh and the time I spent there.  I believe that the best quality I picked up during my semester abroad was true independence.  As an American college student going to school only an hour from my parents, I thought I was independent.  But once that safety blanket was taken away, I realized how unprepared I was.  I had to rely on my own money to feed myself, buy myself warmer clothes or new shoes, go out with my friends.  There were no more weekends spent visiting home, taking leftovers back to school to last me a few more days without groceries, no more weekly calls to mom and dad to check in and see what the family is up to.  I learned how to make my groceries last the longest, how to budget myself so that I could afford food for the week and a trip to the bar, how to spend my money wisely while traveling.  I traveled without family for the first time - I went to Rome for my spring break, and I didn't need to discuss the decision with my parents at all.  I conferred with my friends, we agreed on a day, time, and place to stay, and we went.  It was freedom, and I loved it.  Being back home, having to let my parents know where I'd be and why was difficult.  I made plans with friends, and then told my parents later.  I didn't ask them - I told them.

I was also struck with how easy it had been for me to get around in Edinburgh.  I walked everywhere.  The farthest I ever had to go was an hour away, but walking that was no problem - the city is beautiful, and I didn't mind walking.  If I really had to, I could take the bus system that ran everywhere throughout the city.  Back home, I have to drive everywhere - to visit my boyfriend, to hang out with my friends, to go see a movie, to go out to dinner.  I have to plan ahead of time now.  I can't just message a friend online and meet up with them twenty minutes later.

I enjoyed living in a city, but I missed the calm of my suburban home.  Fredericksburg is a city, but it is a quiet city, especially around campus.  I missed my job, and the people I work with.  I missed my friends, I missed my boyfriend.  Being home and seeing them all again is wonderful.  Of course, now I miss the friends I made while abroad, and I miss Edinburgh's campus, and I miss the castle and the Royal Mile.  It's kind of a lose-win situation.

If I've learned anything from my experiences abroad, it's that I really, really can't take stereotypes seriously anymore.  Of course when you think of Scotland you think of the bagpipes, the whiskey, the kilts.  You know that the country is more than that, but you don't really know.  You have this picture in your head that you can't really get rid of, no matter how much you tell yourself that a country is not what its stereotypes paint it to be.  I know that China is not all paper lamps and dragons and tea, but I won't really understand that until I visit the country.  I know that Germany is not all beer and liederhosen and schnitzel, but I couldn't really understand that until I spent two weeks there.  Rome is lovely in pictures, and has beautiful historical monuments, but it is also dirty, and busy, and insane like any other tourist-filled city.  I think that anyone who has never traveled outside their home country is truly missing out on an important part of living.  We like to think that we can relate to other countries just by being human, but a central part of how we act and feel is based around the culture we grew up in.  How can you really understand a culture unless you live in it?  I'm certainly not claiming to be a master of all things Scottish, because five months isn't enough to truly know what it is to be Scottish; but I like to think that I have a decent grasp of what it might mean to be Scottish.

I spent five months studying about the Scottish identity, and how literature and art have sought to express an identity separate from Great Britain, one that is purely Scottish.  I never thought before now to compare it to the way America is a nation of immigrants.  How can we be true "Americans" when our country is less than 300 years old?  What is a true "American" anyway?

Beyond the differences I noticed between home and Edinburgh, the similarities stood out to me.  People are people, no matter where you go; the culture may be different, but at the end of the day we're all just doing our best to live in a world that can be really hard to live in sometimes.

I like to think that my semester abroad changed me for the better in some way.  I asked my mother if I was different, and she said, "No, not really.  Just a little wiser, I think."  If that's the change I experience while I was abroad, then I'll take it.  I like the person I am, and I like the person Edinburgh made me into.  Maybe one day, after I'm finished with school, I can go back and visit Edinburgh.  I can walk the Royal Mile again, wander through the mesmerizing castle again, and take a trip out to the Highlands so I can be in awe all over again.  So, to Edinburgh, and the other countries I hope to one day visit, I say: This isn't really a goodbye; it's more of a 'see you later, alligator.'