My study abroad experience this summer was, in a word, humbling. Traveling to another country–regardless of any unfortunate mishaps–is inherently humbling: to be exposed to different ways of doing life and viewing the world makes one realize how parochial their own existence is. My trip was touched by what some might call bad luck, but what I have chosen to see as an intensive lesson in perspective and trust. Over the course of the three weeks we were in Germany; I found myself struggling and stumbling to the loss of nearly every material possession of value that I brought with me.
The very first week, my backpack was stolen from Castle Church in Wittenberg (where Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door); luckily, my laptop, passport, and phone were not in it. I cut off my debit card and learned how to navigate wire transfers, and all was well. The second week, I neglected to transfer my tram ticket into my newly purchased backpack and earned myself a tram fine of 60 euros. There are few feelings worse to me than utter incompetence, and I was bathed in it at this point. Finally, at the end of the third week, I left my cell phone on a train while returning from a weekend trip.
Throughout the trip, I was convicted by my own linguistic limitations and the narrowness of my cultural perspective. There was one particular experience that really brought this lesson home for me: shortly after I lost my backpack (and wallet), I was at ReiseBank to pick up a wire transfer via Western Union. When it was my turn to approach the window, I tentatively asked the teller, “Sprechen zie Englisch?”. She smiled wryly and replied, in perfect English, “Do you speak Deutsche?” No, I thought to myself, I don’t. And the fact that I would travel to another country and ask someone if they speak my language is problematic, to say the least. Americans are below the global standard when it comes to the number of languages we know fluently. As a result of my experiences on this trip, I am more determined than ever to become fluent in Spanish.
More than anything, my study abroad experience taught me how few material items I really need to get by. While on the trip, I lost almost everything of value (monetary & sentimental) that I brought, aside from my laptop and passport. Now, I don’t believe it was God-ordained for me to lose all these things. However, in the midst of my own mess, I was able to learn a bit about what it means to trust God for my daily bread and to live day by day truly. As cheesy as it might sound, I think losing those items made me cherish the experiences I had: a complete stranger translated a German church service for me, and we took communion together; our tour guide at Buchenwald gave me her perspective on teaching children about the Holocaust; I traveled for a week after the program in the gorgeous countryside of Italy with no way to take a picture. It was a difficult and beautiful four weeks. As I told my dad on the phone the second week I was in Germany, perhaps the process of becoming a truly “seasoned” traveler has to involve just a bit of tenderizing.
