After flying back to Denmark and spending a couple of weeks off with my family, I have now moved back to Copenhagen and taken up residence in a 3 room apartment with a fellow GLOBEr. Now returns the comfort and security of the familiar, through lectures, job-searches, football practice, social arrangements, and old friends. It therefore seems strange to continue this blog, given that my temple-hopping and roadtripping will subside in the coming months, and I contemplated that perhaps this blog had seen its final page. This blog was centered around GLOBE and it has been written for communication, for reflection, and for information, but like a good book, there is no reason to ruin it by making a sequel. An epilogue, however, is in its place:
After bidding my sister farewell at Copenhagen Airport on her travels to India, I was waiting for the Metro when I saw an Asian boy repetitively stare at his ticket and the information screen. He was around my age, with 2 suitcases and a worrying frown, and after making eye contact he gestured hesitantly towards the screen, simultaneously begging for help and terrified of my response. Recalling some of my experiences asking for help in Asia, answered with nothing but an outstretched, waiving hand, I walked over to see if I could help.
He was going to DTU, the technical University northwest of Copenhagen. It was a simple trip - get off at Nørrebro and then hop onto a bus right outside which would take him straight to the door. The Metro ride was 20 minutes, and to break the silence which clearly made him uncomfortable, I actively tried to engage in conversation: He was from South West China, an electrical engineer here for 6 months. He liked spicy food, huajiao-style, was a big badminton fan, and thought I was amazing at Mandarin because I said "ni hao". His English was rusty and stuttering, but he seemed eager to communicate. Come Nørrebro, he thanked me for my help and wished me good luck on my travels. Then he hopped off and disappeared into the confusion of central Copenhagen.
It wasn't till then I realized another traveler was sitting two rows further down, suitcases piled up with her back towards me. A middle-aged Dane politely asked in English where she was going, and after she muttered "Frederiksberg", he nodded and raised two fingers, indicated a further two stops. Apart from the words "now", when the Metro was about to arrive, he didn't utter a single word.
GLOBE has given me a myriad of experiences, but mainly the ability to empathize and relate to people who are foreign to me and to Copenhagen. But all this counts for nothing if I don't use it. The middle-aged man on the Metro wanted to be friendly and welcoming, and his actions spoke clearer than his words, but he still felt limited by a cultural distance he couldn't quite cover. My foreign travels might be over, for now, but my adventures as a more globalized citizen will continue if I choose so. For everyone's benefit, including my own, I hope they do.
torsdag den 31. januar 2013
tirsdag den 8. januar 2013
Roadtrip
After exams, graduation, and goodbyes, I left Chapel Hill on the 15th of December with 4 other GLOBErs. 13 days later, after 2245 miles and almost 46 hours of driving, our rented Ford Explorer rolled back into town. Passing through Philadelphia, Booton Township, NYC, Greenwich, Boston, Rochester and Niagara Falls, there have been too many experiences and events to describe in a single blog post. But some stand out, and they deserve mentioning.
While most of my accomplices preferred the smaller, European-style Boston to New York City, I preferred the latter. Granted, I would only want to live there if I had a considerable amount of disposable income and only while I was young (hence I don't think I will ever live there), but the city does offer something other cities cannot match. Whether it is strolling down Fifth Avenue with the Christmas decorations, visiting the Museum of Modern Art, or finding a make-to-order burger joint hidden behind a curtain in the lobby of a Le Meridien hotel, New York offers the traveller a chance to dig beneath an exterior which reminds him of a world he knows, only to find he is totally lost. A place where alleyways between Gucci shops and High-rises hide 5 dollar exquisite Chinese food or where an extra block or two will change the signs on shops from English to Mandarin.
To the European, initially, differences between areas of America are hard to find. But travelling through the country on a continuous basis, I never really found time to get accustomed with the new norms and expectations of the place we just left. The style of clothing, the cuisine, the frankness of the conversation, the politeness of social interaction, and the atmosphere of the city all changed continuously, leaving me with a feeling of being totally confused, somewhere between the familiar and the uncertain. My newest literary companion, Pico Iyer, describes it as "being obliged to see everything in two ways, in two languages, at once. On the one hand he is a newcomer who's walking down the streets... on the other, he has travelled to look at himself (and his world) through the eyes of the local."
And in many ways, what I learned about myself on this trip echoes much of what I feel I have learnt from my stay at Chapel Hill. Although there have been spells of joy, wonder, awe and amazement on an experiential level, travelling for me has been more about personal development and testing ones morals and ideals. It has been about surrendering to the unfamiliar, experiencing and learning new things about others as well as one's self. After 12 months abroad, I now want my routine life back and be able to allow myself to implement a plethora of thoughts, feelings, and actions from my travels into the life of who I want to be. The friendships I made are stronger and more valued, forged in aimless discussions and constant compromises, either in the back of a Ford Explorer, in a crammed study room, or over a group dinner, and I'll take them back with me with pride. But at the end of the day, I am tiring of being rootless, beginning to appreciate the familiar from which I drastically wanted to escape 18 months ago, and ready to hand in the car keys and return to reality.
While most of my accomplices preferred the smaller, European-style Boston to New York City, I preferred the latter. Granted, I would only want to live there if I had a considerable amount of disposable income and only while I was young (hence I don't think I will ever live there), but the city does offer something other cities cannot match. Whether it is strolling down Fifth Avenue with the Christmas decorations, visiting the Museum of Modern Art, or finding a make-to-order burger joint hidden behind a curtain in the lobby of a Le Meridien hotel, New York offers the traveller a chance to dig beneath an exterior which reminds him of a world he knows, only to find he is totally lost. A place where alleyways between Gucci shops and High-rises hide 5 dollar exquisite Chinese food or where an extra block or two will change the signs on shops from English to Mandarin.
To the European, initially, differences between areas of America are hard to find. But travelling through the country on a continuous basis, I never really found time to get accustomed with the new norms and expectations of the place we just left. The style of clothing, the cuisine, the frankness of the conversation, the politeness of social interaction, and the atmosphere of the city all changed continuously, leaving me with a feeling of being totally confused, somewhere between the familiar and the uncertain. My newest literary companion, Pico Iyer, describes it as "being obliged to see everything in two ways, in two languages, at once. On the one hand he is a newcomer who's walking down the streets... on the other, he has travelled to look at himself (and his world) through the eyes of the local."
And in many ways, what I learned about myself on this trip echoes much of what I feel I have learnt from my stay at Chapel Hill. Although there have been spells of joy, wonder, awe and amazement on an experiential level, travelling for me has been more about personal development and testing ones morals and ideals. It has been about surrendering to the unfamiliar, experiencing and learning new things about others as well as one's self. After 12 months abroad, I now want my routine life back and be able to allow myself to implement a plethora of thoughts, feelings, and actions from my travels into the life of who I want to be. The friendships I made are stronger and more valued, forged in aimless discussions and constant compromises, either in the back of a Ford Explorer, in a crammed study room, or over a group dinner, and I'll take them back with me with pride. But at the end of the day, I am tiring of being rootless, beginning to appreciate the familiar from which I drastically wanted to escape 18 months ago, and ready to hand in the car keys and return to reality.
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