Growing up, I always felt connected yet distant from my identity. The neighborhood I grew up in is home to my parents' tongue, but the cultures are far from my own. My friends in school taught me a little bit about their cultures, and I shared mine. It is a part of being a New Yorker in the public school system. The downside was that someone else was always a step closer to their home and their culture than you could ever be. That has never been truer abroad. Just like the elementary school cafeteria sharing the differences and similarities of our identities, I find myself exchanging and sharing bits of myself while others do the same.  

A Room Missing a Wall 

A room typically consists of four walls, one floor, and a roof. The walls become adorned with what you see fit: memories, reminders, decor, function; the walls become what you want them to be. They amplify the message you want to amplify; they validate what you want to be validated, and most importantly, they hold parts of your identity. This could not be further from the truth abroad. During my time abroad, I quickly came to the realization that Latino America may be a little more distant and remote than I previously assumed; this became evident with the food available in supermarkets. The lack of Latino foods, spices, sauces, and ingredients quickly made me realize how far from home my identity is and how radically I needed to adapt to new methods of cooking and eating. The lack of Latino foods was the first sign of my new room lacking a wall. The next signs came in the form of language; while riding the trams across town or walking around the city, it became increasingly apparent that Spanish was the minority, as people's second most spoken language was English over Spanish (a stark contrast to the United States, where Spanish becomes the most learnt second language by people). The lack of spoken Spanish became apparent in everyday life, compounded by the small minority of Latinos in Freiburg. I can only count a handful of times I saw or heard another Latino in public, reducing the chances of speaking Spanish and the opportunities to connect with home. The room without a wall became increasingly apparent in everyday interactions as I went deeper into my study abroad experience. Without people to speak with, food to make or consume, it became difficult to find myself feeling at home when that home lacked the roof, my new room lacking a wall. The next signs came in the form of language; while riding the trams across town or walking around the city, it became increasingly apparent that Spanish was the minority, as people's second most spoken language was English over Spanish (a stark contrast to the United States, where Spanish becomes the most learnt second language by people). The lack of spoken Spanish became apparent in everyday life, compounded by the small minority of Latinos in Freiburg. I can only count a handful of times I saw or heard another Latino in public, reducing the chances of speaking Spanish and the opportunities to connect with home. The room without a wall became increasingly apparent in everyday interactions as I went deeper into my study abroad experience. Without people to speak with, food to make or consume, it became difficult to find myself feeling at home when that home lacked a roof, and its rooms were missing a wall.  

Making a Wall for Home Without Walls 

The cohort I share my IES Abroad Freiburg experience with became that second home; they became that house once more. Throughout the program, our one shared identity of experiencing America has led us to bond over the things we share from home. Not all of us experienced America in the same way, and some more distant than others, but those little shared experiences became much larger than life. In those small ways, a home began to have walls; adding to this experience were the few but important Spanish speakers in the program, where we speak in Spanish and share Spanish memes on Instagram. These small moments are ways of taking a part of home; being able to find those small moments of relatability acted as gateways to home without having it completely at home. These moments, like the trips our program hosted, would push us to bigger cities where Latino food was present. These little pockets of cultural connection acted as gateways toward identity, and those little moments would form that wall in rooms with missing walls. Sharing at the table parts of my identity in the U.S. helped me communicate what home is and made me realize I am that connection between home and the world I live in abroad. These aspects became critically important and showed that even far from home, you can make your own magic. I would eventually find stores that would sell the ingredients or comparable items where I would be able to make breakfast burritos and quesadillas. Parts of the home can always be found even when abroad; you just need to make it happen. 

Making Your Home 

In summary, finding your own footing will take a while. It is never easy to establish your own ground when you first arrive, but finding that footing takes time. You should not rush your experience, but experience being abroad and watch your footing come in. You will find yourself making your own home abroad, and that home will become a new part of your identity, still incorporating parts of you but also incorporating parts of your new experiences as well. Do not hold yourself back from seeking to find your own identity, because you will find those parts casually while abroad. With time and patience, you will find your own music.