One of the hardest things to do is to find the balance between the different parts of our lives. I found this to be particularly true during the three months I spent in Rabat, especially when it came to crafting a school/life balance. 

I have struggled considerably to write this last post. I have tried to take an angle on reverse culture shock, describing my experiences with it in my first week home and whether the expectations meet the reality. I have tried to explore the differences between English and American culture, which aspects I’ll miss, and which ones I’d rather go without. None of these angles have worked out for me because, in these past few days unpacking and grappling with my return home, the place I went to has nothing to do with why I am struggling.

I've finally reached the end of the fall semester, and now I can properly reflect on the experience of attending a Dutch university. I had my last final on Tuesday, a three hour in-person hand written exam about major concepts of migration. Having finals during the last two weeks was a bit disheartening. I was tired from the semester winding down, pre-stressed about packing and flying out, and of course the thought of saying goodbye to everyone brought an onset of bittersweet sadness and sentiment.

What would I say if you asked me what it was like to study abroad in Germany? I’d give you the answer that I give everyone. I’d say it was amazing, life-changing, one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. If I were being especially honest that day, I’d also throw in that it was challenging and at times uncomfortable, and that “the best decision I’ve ever made” is a designation only given in the idealistic glow of retrospection. Yet, idealistic or not, it’s the truth.

I really love food. I enjoy trying foods for the first time and finding comfort in old favorites; I like learning about people through their favorite meals and catching up with old friends over a bowl of noodles on a Friday night; I love finding the best restaurants in every new city I go to and checking off at least one local food from among the museums and sites on my bucket list. After three and a half months of eating abroad, I have a lot to talk about, so here it is: an ode to food.

Travel is experiencing a revolution. In the decade or so between our youth and the present day, resort hotels have given way to Airbnb rentals and road trips exchanged for staycations. One of my earliest memories is of playing in the pool at a Jamaican resort, the kind where carefully curated landscapes mask the poverty and infrastructural decay outside of closed gates. Since then, my family and I have traded escapism for travel that takes advantage of opportunities to enrich our understanding of the world, even if that world is only a town or a state away.

“A night missed in Berlin is a night missed in Berlin.” This quote from a friend in my program stuck with me throughout the semester. I felt like I needed to do everything every single day, otherwise I would miss out on something.

This last weekend, I took an overnight trip to the town of Deventer with two of my close friends; a kind of last hurrah before we all finish off our finals, pack up, and fly to our separate states and resume our American college lives. It is so strange to picture all my friends back on their college campuses, or in their respective hometowns, because I’ve only known them for as long as we’ve been here. Amsterdam is all that we have in common and the whole reason we became friends in the first place; by the end of these four months, it feels like a lot more, formative in a way.

I’m two weeks from getting on a plane to Sydney and it feels like the whole process has been chaos. I’ve submitted everything at the last minute, which is dumb and frankly entirely my fault, and it’s been copious amounts of unnecessary stress. Just today, I realized I didn’t accept my admittance in the Endeavour portal for UNSW and started freaking out that I wasn’t going to be able to go abroad. As it turns out, the portal was glitching anyway so I got lucky, but I was preparing myself mentally to come to terms with the fact that I might have to stay in Boulder in the spring.