There are a lot of things that are scary about living abroad. Being surrounded by a new culture, having to start from square 1 in terms of making new friends, relearning everyday routines (like going to the doctor or arranging appointments), and the eventual but continual change that is really only recognized once you "move back" are all things that bring out insecurities, at least for me. But at the end of the day, these aspects of moving abroad are more inconvenient than scary. I fear them because they push me out of my comfort zone, but I can work past them, either by learning or by asking others for help. By the end of my time in Germany I will feel comfortable enough with it all.
But there is another fear that always lurks in the back of my mind. It's usually an unwarranted fear (statistically speaking) and always very faded. For me, and probably for many others abroad, it's the sort of thing that you can't really deal with except for when it is too late. It's the fear of not being there, of the physical separation that makes you useless in times of a crisis, when you are needed most immediately.
The best way I can think of it is through Donne's Meditation 17, with that "no man is an island" line. When we leave a place, we don't just remove ourselves- we also leave others behind. We implicitly assume that everyone else will be able to take care of themselves and live their lives without us. And that's a good and necessary assumption to make; we hope that our time spent with others has been a good influence and has helped everyone become more successful. But the assumption is always false. There is always going to be some hypothetical scenario where a family member or a friend needs you, and if that happens, there's this undeniable guilt that you chose not to help. "Choose" might be a strong word, since you've only chosen to pursue an opportunity somewhere else and have probably not made that decision under the thinking that you can avoid all the people from back home, but the guilt will make it feel like the latter was an active choice.
I was lucky enough to avoid one of these scenarios over the winter break. After Christmas, my family had to put our dog down after a totally unexpected change in his health. I know everyone has their own way with animals, and so this might seem overly sentimental to some, but Tycho had helped the family through some very tumultuous years- we had gotten him when we first moved to North Carolina, when things were fresh and scary and we weren't sure how everything was going to hold up, and he quickly became a member of our family. Those last few days of my break were terrible and filled with a lot of sadness, but I knew even that as it was happening that I was glad I could be there for my family. We were all able to come together and (hopefully) lighten the load a little bit, and for that I was (and am) truly grateful.
This week did not work out so well. On Friday I learned that one of my best friends in NC had passed away. It was one of those experiences that you seen on TV but never fully believe- I was so shocked that for a few moments I couldn't cry. I could barely even breath. But that passed and soon I became a bawling, morphine-addled mess, curled up in the hallway of the hospital to give my "roommate" some peace, frantically trying to skype anyone else from back home. It felt like my worst nightmare. I wanted nothing to do but to go home, but there was absolutely no way for that to happen. Even if money and airplane tickets wouldn't have been issues, my hospital stay would have still kept me here. So here I am, in my hospital bed, doing nothing, helping no one, separated and useless.
This is the first, but it most surely won't be the last.
I have made so many new connections while living abroad, but how many of those will I fail in exactly the same way? It makes this whole undertaking seem selfish. I am travelling and seeing the world because I want to, and if I keep doing this I am a more useless friend than anyone who stays put. There is no loyalty in this lifestyle; in it, everything is transient, half-baked, friendships are coincidences of location rather than life-long connections. It ignores the importance of the life of every single person around me, or makes it so that this importance only applies to the time period we're together. And for what? Stamps on a passport? Photos of exotic locations to show off over social media? Those don't matter. Being worldly means absolutely nothing in times like this.
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