In less than a week, I will be returning to the States. In less than two weeks after that, I will be traveling to India to spend a year living in Bangalore. People gasp when I say I have about 10 days until I leave again but the closer I’ve come to “home,” the more 10 days seems like too much. I can’t imagine going back to America to live the life that most of these students onboard will return to. Before this summer, my body ached to explore new sensations and my mind yearned for fresh stimulation. There was not a day that passed on this journey that those yearnings were not fulfilled. But they are more powerful than ever, taking control over my body, like a disease of urge…propelling me forth to experience what I have not felt or seen before. This summer was a collection of contrasts…of immaculate beauty in the landscape of Norway, the dilapidated apartments on the outskirts of St. Petersburg-remnants of a Communist past, the enveloping veil next to my own bare skin…and even in the city of Dubrovnik, a scenery of mixed realities…of enchanting streets that hide evidence of the Yugoslav wars.
Growing up within the bubble that is America, there is a certain detachment that has been bred within our identities…so that while I diligently read the international sections of the Times and Post each morning, I would often forget about the sufferings of others as I basked in the comfort and ease that steers our American lives. We become so preoccupied with our own trivial problems which in return, prevents us from appreciating everything we are blessed with. To be honest, this truth always floated around my conscious and there were times when I felt overpoweringly guilty…about what I have, about what other people lack…but now, I can’t return to the States…to the isolation…the seclusion. Not yet, at least.