Already Gone

{wanderlust: a strong innate desire to rove or travel about}

Don’t travel. Don’t explore. Don’t yearn to be somewhere you’re not. Because the moment you do, the moment you make the world your stomping grounds, you will never be able to settle again. Your heart will long for foreign lands and your browser history with overflow with travel sites and destination searches. You will start speaking in cliched travel quotes and compulsively checking to make sure your passport is on you at all times. And you will love every minute of it.

{the aesthetic of lostness}

This past semester in the Czech Republic is inexpressable in material terms: the people I met, the cuisine I overindulged in, the places I got lost and the memories that will never fade came together in a glorious hectic amalgamation to create one of the very best experiences of my life. Looking back, there is no shortage of lows throughout the course of my adventures: illness, exhaustion, frustration, miscommunication. However, though these lows were often even lower than back home, the highs were so incomparably higher that they veritably ruled out the perpetual setbacks that accompany any adventurer. This is, of course, the ballad of anyone who has travelled before.

{don’t forsake this life of yours}

To look at my bucket list as a 21 year old student and realize that I’ve crossed off more than many people twice my age is an emotion more uplifting than words can capture or money can afford. Travelling is a dangerous cycle because each new place your spirit captures fosters the impetus to continue meandering forever.

{where I’d rather be}

Since I returned to the states, most of my free time is spent planning my next adventure. Granted, as a student of International Studies, my life focus is more travel-centric than most, so there is a high likelihood that I’m biased in this matter. Nonetheless, I can’t help but encourage everyone I meet to abandon their comfort zone and let me drag them headfirst into a world of cultures and possibilities. That, I think, is what I will retain the most from my semester abroad: the urge to introduce others to the majesty of living as a citizen of the world.

{the adventure of a lifetime}

This I’ve learned: don’t let one experience be the adventure of a lifetime; let your lifetime itself be the ultimate adventure. I feel as though often travel gets misinterpreted as a luxury of the wealthy, a posh pastime of those with too much time on their hands, and is overlooked as the life-altering experience it is. When people ask me what I want to be doing in 10 years, I tell them I want to be a professor abroad or an international aid worker helping resettle refugees or something along those lines. And while that is all quite true, who I want to be, how I want to be known, is as a traveller, and I have the Czech Republic to thank for getting me set on that path.

{flirting with the world}

I’ve never been a domestic soul; I’ve never been comfortable settling or accepting the status quo. It worries my family that I’m going to disappear overseas and excites my friends that they can live vicariously through me. I can’t honestly say which of those reactions is more warranted, and as this post comes to an end, I acknowledge that it has been more about myself than about my semester in Olomouc, but isn’t that ultimately the point? To find in life that passion which commits you to waking up each morning with the drive to set the world on fire?

Life is fleeting. Make it spectacular.

Sick and Tired

This past week has been a bowl full of unorthodox. I say that as a euphemism because what I really mean by ‘unorthodox’ is misery. While I’m a bit disappointed that I had to get sick over the last week of the trip, it definitely made for a memorable close to the semester.

This past Tuesday our little group left for our last field trip as a class to Bohemia to finish out our time together before we all went our separate ways. My perceptions of the trip may be a bit different from everyone else’s though, due to the fact that I was horrifically ill. Our first day in Litomysl was a good introduction to the southern Czech Rep, as we got a delightful cityscape, a tour of a beautiful church, and some top-notch native cuisine. After calling it an early night, we were off to Kutna Hora to visit a truly fascinating church adorned with the bones of over 7000 human skeletons, a sadistically intriguing experience.

From there though, it all went downhill for me. Thanks to the US healthcare system, I now know that what I have is mono, and I had been treating it in the Czech with hot tea and ibuprofen, so in hindsight, it really comes as no surprise that I broke down in tears after the church because the pain was too much to handle.

Essentially the rest of Bohemia for yours truly was spent motionless in bed and that really needs no elaboration, so let’s instead take a moment to talk about my encounter with the Czech healthcare system. On Thursday morning while my peers were off touring the silver mines, I mustered the strength to drag myself out of bed and head to the hospital in Cesky Krumlov with our professors Jan and Martin who were kind enough to set up an appointment for me.

I’m not entirely sure that an appointment was necessary though because I think I could have just ordered drugs online considering the thoroughness (or rather lack thereof) of the visit. Considering my symptoms, I was relatively certain I had either strep throat or an ear infection, both common maladies in my past, so I knew what to expect going in. Thus, when all I received was a blood pressure check, heart monitor, and a request to stick out my tongue before the nurse (not even the doctor) decided she was ready with a diagnosis, I was a bit dubious. Is two minutes really enough time to determine what’s ailing me? I inquired out loud whether or not there were any more tests that needed to be run and was assured that they had all the information they needed. I was handed a box of penicillin and told I was free to leave.

Well, unsurprisingly that didn’t really do much for me, so I had to make some changes to my end of semester plans, namely changing my flight to fly home to the states May 25th instead of June 6th in search of adequate healthcare because I was advised against travelling anywhere without English-speaking hospitals. And of course, I was phenomenally miserable so the prospect of home comforts was an appealing notion. Which brings us to now: having been home for a few days now is a bittersweet experience, as one might expect. While physically I am in immeasurably greater condition having received an appropriate diagnosis and the medication to follow, I remain emotionally salty about the fact that I had to miss two weeks of traversing Greece and the UK to lay bedridden in parent’s house until I recover.

Nonetheless, all this free time has given me a lot of time to reflect on these past few months, and not even a little bout of mono can’t taint all the amazing memories I’ve made throughout my time in dear sweet Cesky Republica.

Paris, Mi Amor

Parlez-vous francais? Oui, je parle!

This past weekend a group of us ventured westward to Paris, the city of love, for our last free travel slot, and it was a unique cultural experience for me in particular. In countries like Ireland and Great Britain, the language barrier is delightfully nonexistent, whereas in home sweet Czech and countries like Poland and Hungary, the language puts my brain in a haze. In France, however, I had a new interaction with the linguistics of the land, as I am somewhat conversational in French. Granted, no one would mistake me for a native by any means, but I can carry on small talk for a few minutes and order in a restaurant, so it was fun for me to see how much of my French I actually retained in any sort of a coherent fashion.

Beyond just experimenting with my linguistic capacities, there were a plethora of other adventures that went down in grand ol’ Paris. For starters, I was sick prior to takeoff, so that combined with the changing air pressure of flying resulted in the super exciting conclusion of me passing out in the street outside the Paris airport shortly after we flew in. So that was an… interesting start to the weekend. I don’t think people who travel adequately understand just how exhausting it truly is. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the gratification of worldview is worth of the pain of physical and mental fatigue but I wish my domestic friends could understand the work that goes into all my artsy travel pics because it is a copious, copious amount.

Fear not though- things went up from the “hey mom I passed out in Parisian traffic last night” incident. Our dreary Saturday morning was somewhat brightened by getting to stroll through the stunning Palace and Gardens of Versailles and after a group nap to recover lost sleep from travelling through the night, we took a jaunt to a scenic overlook of the city. Even as I grow more and more accustomed to travel, it continues to strike me as absurd that we can simply fly out to Paris for the weekend simply because we have nothing better to do. That was something new about this weekend- I’m pretty sure that everyone who came to Paris was there for the exclusive reason that the tickets were relatively cheap, not specifically because it was their heart’s desire to venture there.

That didn’t stop us from having a stellar time though- I crossed seeing the Eiffel Tower at night off my bucket list! At this rate, I’m going to have to start a new bucket list because I’ll be done with the one I’ve got by the time I’m thirty. I suppose there are worse problems to have than living too adventurous of a life though. Though we didn’t actually go inside, we did get an outside view of the Louvre, as well as Notre Dame cathedral, Napoleon’s Arc de Triomphe, and some other traditional Parisian sights on our walking tour Sunday morning. It was a truly French moment for me as we sat lounging in the grassy shadows of the Eiffel Tower popping champagne and munching on macaroons. I particularly enjoy snapshots such as that one because some European cities are exactly what you expect them to be while others are a complete shock.

Though most everyone we encountered spoke relatively fluent English, it was still a fun game for me to see how much French I learned was actually applicable in real life. It’s a gratifying sensation to see the relevance of your studies exploited in real life because if we’re being honest, they often feel quite pointless. I am deeply intrigued by neurolinguistic studies so every time I get the chance to see the effects of language on culture, it’s a fascinating experience.

Despite some mishaps and maladies along the way, I fell in love (with crepes and champagne) in the city of love. Until next time- au revoir, Paris!

Poland: It's Pretty Neat

Krakow? More like Kra-WOW!

I apologize for making you read that. The cheesiness hurts me too. But in all earnesty, Krakow, Poland is a pretty neat place. This past weekend we spent three days learning and exploring, and it was nothing like I envisioned but everything I wanted. Most typically, the only recounts of Poland we hear in America are regarding its involvement in WWII, and as those are all fairly gloomy scenarios, I went into the trip expecting an equally gloomy countenance from the nation itself. However, I was pleasantly surprised.

Grass. That was the first aspect of Polish life that made an impression on me after a long morning of driving out to the Wieliczka Salt Mine in Krakow. We were granted some leisurely free time upon arriving earlier than expected, and thank goodness we did because Krakow has some truly beautiful foliage. Green life is one of the most prominent aspects of Nebraska life that I miss as Olomouc is rather barren in terms of flora, and many of the other cities we've visited seem to follow suit. Laying in the grass and basking in the sun in a random park outside of the salt mines for twenty minutes was an ambient experience after the harshness of stone and steel environments we've grown accustomed to. So that was pleasant surprise number one.

Pleasant surprise number two was the mine itself. Especially after a gratifying sunbathing session, the prospect of heading deep underground into a place of coldness, darkness, and saltiness was not particularly enthralling. Again, though, Krakow went above and beyond. The Wieliczka Salt Mine was more beautifully breaktaking than I ever could have imagined. Not only did we have fun licking the walls and making wishes on coin tosses in underground pools, but admiring the architecture of the caves themselves was enough to keep one occupied for days on end. Between underground chapels, theatres, and so much more, it was like strolling through somewhere out of a book. It is nothing short of phenomenal to consider the endless days and nights of toil that went into digging such a magnificent subterranean wonderland, especially without the advantages of modern technology.

Following our escapades in the mine, we made our way to easily the best restaurant I’ve been to in Europe so far. Not only was the food and wine top-notch, but the service was better than anything I’ve experienced. Our waiter was actually kind to us, talking to us and keeping our wine glasses full, as opposed to literally every other dining experience we’ve had where the waiters literally scoff at us for being American. Plus, even considering we ordered a three course meal with two bottles of wine, it cost just over $20 a person. Krakow is my kind of place. If you’ve never had pierogies, you are sincerely missing out. Did I mention our waiter brought us free shots of a local plum vodka in tiny goblets? He did. He was great. I would come back to Poland just to repeat the joy of that meal.

That’s only the beginning though- our group also embarked on a crazy night of misadventures as we all took part in the Krawl Across Krakow, the largest pub crawl in the city. Between the power hour of free drinks and the crazy foreigners we got to know as we ventured across town, it was a night to remember. Granted, it did make our visit to Wawel Castle the next morning drag a little bit, but it was still a pretty neat medieval relic. As we were admiring the fine skill and dedication committed to each and every piece of weaponry in the museum, our guide made an interesting point about our generation being the one to bring back such artisanship, as much of it was lost with industrialization. It was such a fascinating reflection because we often get so caught up in the end product that we overlook the artsmanship (or modernday lack thereof) that goes into the creation process.

Afterward, a few of us girls had a grand time sitting in the main square and judging what we deemed to be terrible fashion donned by foreign passerbys- it never ceases to amaze me how unorthodox we perceive European fashion to be. I still can’t tell whether they’re trying way too hard or not hard enough… Either way, the end product of clothing combinations is completely inexplicable from an American standpoint.

Considering the lingering fatigue from Friday’s late night escapades, it seemed like a good idea to take it easy for a night, so some of us headed to Krakow’s most popular chocolate bar and it was AMAZING. For anyone who is even moderately acquainted with me, they know that my sweet tooth is out of control, so a thirty page chocolate menu is literally heaven on earth. That, combined with three hours of academic debate on neurolinguistics, psychobiology, cultural relativity, and the nature of the universe in general, made for a hell of a good night in a fashion very different (and vastly superior to) our usually drink and club type fiestas.

Between cheap food, cool people, and some hella cool sights, Krakow was unexpectedly one of my favorite cities so far. Poland: I’ll be back.

Sleep Is For The Weak

Is it weird that I really haven’t been homesick for America yet? They say home is where the heart is, but my heart is freer even than my soul, so considering one place home is a bit of an impossibility for me.

Since we’ve arrived in Europe, I’ve been more homesick for Olomouc when we leave for our weekend trips than for America itself. That is, until our last few weeks of travel. As was elaborated in my last blog, I had quite the time in Italy over spring break, and this past weekend was spent exploring London. These two places out of everywhere I’ve been so far felt the most like home in America, so it was a turbulent situation trying to decide whether I missed Olomouc more while I was travelling elsewhere, or Italy and the UK more when I returned.

Now that I’ve been here long enough to consider Olomouc (and Europe as a whole) my home, it seems like a good opportunity to delve into what my daily life looks like here and on personal excursions. The “study” in my study abroad may be lacking a bit, but that doesn’t mean I’m not learning experientially. Let’s take a glimpse at a day in the life of Marrissa abroad! Honestly, my days often begin moderately late because I’ve been out dancing at the clubs until the wee hours of the morning, so breakfast and lunch usually get merged into one delightful meal of crepes, croissants, and whatever other glucose loaded café delights I choose to poison myself with. I’ve gotten good enough with crowns (25 to 1 USD) that I almost feel confident ordering immediately without having to calculate whether or not I’m flushing my savings down the drain. Thank goodness everything in the Czech Republic is so phenomenally cheap, even when I splurge it’s still pretty reasonable, which is good because most of my afternoons are spent either eating again at a café to mooch off their internet or buying things at the mall.

Huge point of adjustment from life in the states: other than the occasion movie in class, I have not watched television since crossing into Europe, an activity that usually occupies several hours of my day, even if it’s just playing in the background while I do something else. It’s odd having so many new experiences every day that I don’t even miss it. Really, really odd, in fact. I often feel like the typical media addicted American, but pulling back has been much easier than I thought it would be, which gives me hope for my generation.

Anyway, daily life can’t be all fun and games, as proven by the trainwreck that is Czech language class. All I will say on that topic to avoid a vindictive rant is this: do not under any circumstances learn Czech. NO. While our regular and guest professors provide us with new and interesting topics of thought each lesson, our Czech professor makes me want to never learn another language again. Enough on that though- it’s time for the fun stuff! After classes is when the real party starts (and I mean that literally, not metaphorically).

Whether it’s heading to the bars for drinks with friends or a barbeque with the university students or an opera at the local theatre, evenings are the best part of my day. The peak of the week though, is Wednesday night, because that means Erasmus party at Belmundo, our favorite club! The scene doesn’t start popping until midnight or so, but the larger majority of our Nebraska group tries to make it out for a night of drinking and dancing, and it’s a new adventure every time. Even when the temps are subarctic out, we still make the jaunt home on foot, stopping for kebobs at the best street food joint in town. With that, we’ve come full circle back to sleeping in to recover from a night of memories made.

That’s weekday life though. Weekend travel life is a bit different. Oblivion. That is the word I would use to most adequately describe what our side adventures have been like so. Our days our characterized by blinding meandering from place to place, hoping to find where we’re looking for or at least something unexpected worth stopping for. Between the language barriers, our limited knowledge of the landscapes, and our general incapacity to seek assistance due to spotty wifi, our escapades are not well suited to those who don’t enjoy surprises. Our weekend adventures are by far my favorite parts of the trip, but those outside of our group don’t get an authentic view of how truly exhausting they are.

As posed travel pics with artsy captions are posted, our friends and families miss out on the fact that in order to get to those amazing destinations, we’re usually up before the sun and travelling until late into the night, switching back and forth between trains, planes, and automobiles. 

More often than not, I attempt to pay in the wrong currency out of the six different types I carry in my wallet, or thank our waiter in the wrong language of several we’ve picked up along the way. I’ve gotten pretty good at mixing and matching, but the fact remains that we’re two months in and my entire life still fits into a backpack. Fashion in not the word of the day. My shoes and sunglasses are being held together with superglue, and almost half of my minimalistic wardrobe has some sort of stain or tear at this point. Nonetheless, I have no complaints. I will gladly sacrifice my clothing for the chance to seek new experiences! The people I’ve met abroad are some of the most magnificent individuals I’ll ever have the privilege of associating with: from the Canadians we convinced to go cliff diving with us to the Brits we biked the Tuscan countryside with, I am nothing short of amazed by the quality of people Europe is churning out. 

Ciao, Italia

“Veni vidi vici.”
I came, I saw, I conquered. This seems like an appropriate phrase for my most recent weekend of adventures. Our little Czech family has been travelling since last Tuesday when we departed for a class trip to Vienna and Venice then were graciously released for a week of leisure over spring break!
Italy indubitably and indisputably is the most magical destination I’ve visited thus far. My heart lingers in Venice, in Cinque Terre, in Rome. Though I’ve thoroughly enjoyed everywhere our group has explored up until this point, Venice for me was the start of a week of bliss: it held a certain quaint European charm that I hadn’t quite felt anywhere else. The lack of paved streets and some subsequent modern conveniences created an ambient rustic appeal and the sound of waves followed you wherever you wandered off too. Perpetual amazement and appreciation for the ingenuity of mankind were the themes of the day in the city of a thousand canals.

There goes an urban tale that its bad luck if you don’t eat gelato everyday you’re in Italy, and I took that piece of advice very seriously, sometimes indulging multiple times a day. It surely must be true because my spring break went off without a hitch. Following our last day in Venice, Clark and I ventured out for Florence as the first stop on our grand Italian tour. Panic was definitely present in my mind as we had plans to take trains all week, and I possess a passionate dislike of trains, mostly because I never really feel like I know what I’m doing or where I’m going in the stations, but all week our transport was effortlessly flawless.
Florence was a solid introduction to the Italian lifestyle for us: we ate an exorbitant amount of pasta, learned the ins and outs of wine and olive oil making, and biked the Tuscan countryside for some incomparable views. Tuscany may very well be one of the most beautiful places on this planet- it was a nice change of pace to appreciate the nature beauty of Europe as opposed to all the cityscapes we’ve been admiring. I also discovered that apparently two bros can’t casually traverse the Tuscan countryside without people thinking they’re a couple, so Clark and I had to get used to looks of confusion when we explained to people that we’re just friends who share a mutual appreciation of Italian wine.
As for Pisa, it really only needs one sentence. It was neat: we took pictures, we got sunburnt, we napped, we ventured on.
Cinque Terre, on the other hand, was majestic beyond words can portray. The juxtaposition of man and nature posed by the small coastal villages perched precariously on the Italian coastline was nothing short of phenomenal. Between hiking the rugged trains between the villages, wading in the crystal blue waters, cliff diving from some terrifying heights, and indulging in some top-notch seafood, Cinque Terre surely took our breath away. Though hiking eight or more hours a day in sub-par footwear was exhausting, the region itself is like something out of a fairytale and that made it all worth it. I’m a bit of a nature child back in the states so the forests and beaches of the Italian coast were a nice refresher. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually live somewhere so tranquil and pristine.

Rome, of course, was stunning as well, but in a very different kind of way. It never ceases to amaze me how ancient historical monuments are just niched away in the center of bustling urban centers. I get this picture in my mind of sites such as the Colosseum in their own little world out in the middle of nowhere, which makes it somewhat disorienting when you just turn a corner and there lays one of the most prominent reminders of ancient Roman culture, surrounded by street food and gay bars. I also find it amusing how scooters and Vespas are such a prominent method of transportation in Italy. In Nebraska where trucks run wild, it would be an embarrassment to drive something so fuel efficient, whereas in Europe people care more about pragmaticism than status symbolicism when it comes to transport.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed everywhere we’ve travelled thus far, but Italy was the first to truly call to my soul. The food, the people, the sea called to my soul in a way that nowhere else has, and I will surely return. Ciao, Italia. You have my heart. 

Heavy Hearts

“Arbeit Macht Frei.” Work will set you free.

There are moments in your life that you instantly and profoundly recognize will affect your worldview until the day you die, and this past Saturday was one of those days. Our class had the opportunity to pay a visit the Auschwitz and Birkenau Nazi concentration camps in Poland, and never in my life have I been so haunted.

Anyone who has ever been to Auschwitz or any similar camp can attest to the fact that no words, no pictures, no video testimony can adequately prepare you for the true horror of what lies inside those barbed wire fences. Walking away from a single day in those camps, I am irrevocably scarred in the best kind of way. My appreciation for the luxuries of my life as well as my terror at the atrocities of past and present human rights violations have never been so clear. Never again will I plead apathy to the injustice of the world.

The shoes. The shoes were what broke me. Touring the blocks, I held it together reasonably well as our guide outlined the ways in which prisoners were mercilessly beaten, humiliated, tortured, experimented on, and ultimately murdered, but when we got to the part of the tour where the belongings of the victims were held, the tears came. Gazing upon mountains of looted shoes, luggage, and two tons of shaved human hair from the corpses of the victims of Auschwitz, I cried. I cried, and I watched as one by one my peers were broken by this place.

To set foot in a gas chamber where innumerable lives were mercilessly and horrifically stolen, to walk through the crematorium where their bodies were systematically turned to ash, to gaze through the doors of the torture cells where prisoners were starved, suffocated, and condemned to slow agonizing death evoked emotion more intense than I have ever experienced before.

I laughed a bit when I discovered that one of our classes for this trip was exclusively a field study consisting of weekend field trips, wondering how much we could really “learn” from touring a bunch of miscellaneous European cities. Now though, I revoke that laughter because I learned more about history and humanity and morality and civic responsibility in one day at Auschwitz than I might in a year of traditional class. Experiences like this one remind us why we must learn and remember the tragedies of the past lest they be repeated.

My soul aches as I write this because I know that so many of the people I hold dear will never truly understand the pain of injustice, that they will continue in their privileged everyday lives, oblivious to and apathetically detached from the misery of the world. This is why I travel. Ignorant is never a term I want to be associated with, and I hope that through my adventures, I can bring some enlightenment into my own life, as well as those around me who do not understand the importance of living as a world citizen.

“Those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it.” –George Santayana

Never forget.