You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. I’ve been thinking about that saying a lot. We are so prone to taking things for granted. Really, I think it’s impossible not to take things for granted. We subconsciously grow accustomed to different aspects of our lives. Often, it’s only when those things are gone that we even realize they were there in the first place.

For a lot of students, knowing that you want to study abroad is the easy part. There’s a fire in your heart fueled by a pressing need to see as much of the world as you can. It’s choosing the right program for you that can get confusing. I kind of stumbled upon Nice by accident. Most of my friends were studying in Barcelona, and at first, I wanted to go there too. However, something was off; I just couldn’t get myself to commit.

My time in Morocco is winding down (too, too fast!) and I’m trying to find ways to appreciate all of the moments I have left here. Sometimes appreciating the present moment can be really hard, especially when you’re stressed about writing papers, figuring out your summer plans, or physically not feeling well. Then you feel even more stressed because all those moments that you weren’t appreciating have passed and you have even fewer left! I don’t know about you but sometimes it makes me want to just hole up in my room, watch Netflix, and sleep.

I’d like to begin with a short but important disclaimer: I have no idea what it is like to be a member of a minority group in the U.S. or what it’s like to live my entire life as a minority in any country. I have gotten a tiny taste of it and that may be all I will ever get. I recognize the amount of privilege this comes with and while I am grateful for the life I have been able to live, I am sad and frustrated that it exists at all, because “privilege” inherently means that some have rights or receive benefits that others do not.

Before choosing to study abroad in Berlin, I was heavily discouraged from going to Europe because it is significantly more expensive than the Caribbean or Latin America.

Something that I have been reflecting on has been my identity here while abroad. While I carry a U.S. passport, I identify more as Chicana than I do as American.

I’d like to tell you all a story with a sad start, but a happy ending - all about running. 

When I was eighteen years old, I was a hard-working high school student as well as an aspiring actress, singer, and dancer. I was stressed out over college applications and upcoming auditions. I was always on the move, but I could barely run farther than the one mile required for our school’s annual fitness test. 

About a month ago I finally turned 21 years old and am now considered full adult in the eyes of the law in both Europe and the United States. Even with this being true, three weeks following my birthday my parents showed up in Amsterdam to quickly remind me that age is but a number and that I will always be their youngest child.

I’m sitting in the Charles de Gaulle airport after a 5am car share out of Nantes because all of the trains were shut down due to the strikes (again). My flight doesn’t leave until 8:10pm tonight, which you think would give me some time to reflect and review the semester. At the same time, though, I’m not ready to review, or to refer to the three months I spent in Nantes in the past tense.