Back from Munich

Flew back on Monday after an amazing week in a beautiful city. When I got home I ordered a copy of Carnet De Voyage by Craig Thompson. I spent a little time reading it this AM. After being treated pretty nicely by French hosts (on a tour promoting his work as a cartoonist) he takes a trip to Morocco by himself. I could completely relate to his experience of loneliness, defensiveness and self loathing. Going somewhere where there is so much poverty and need and being for once "the alien" and never feeling good or comfortable or that there was any good reason to be in that place.



My first travel abroad included a desire to cross the Strait of Gibraltar and visit Morocco. One of my girlfriends in college was the daughter of a diplomat and recommended the destination. After four years of being told I was great by friends and teachers it was a shock to my system to go to Europe and feel so alone. I didn't speak any languages besides Spanish. I felt vulnerable all the time--vulnerable as a woman, vulnerable as a stranger, vulnerable as a person with no linguistic defenses. I felt awful the entire time--mostly disappointed that instead of being transported by beauty and culture, I was perpetually on my guard against grabby French men and beggars. I never made it to Morocco. In Barcelona I ran out of steam and had a minor breakdown in front of my Australian room mate. She had already let me know how completely green and insignificant I was as an American traveler (she had just biked across the Pyrenees on a 3 speed all the way from Amsterdam). Clearly I was out classed by everyone. She kindly took me to the train station and we decided to go back to Paris together--forget Morocco. 

When I came home after 8 weeks I re entered a relationship that probably should have ended when I left. I just wanted connection. That connection lasted another 5 years.

The question for me today, 20 years later, is how to feel at home when all home is is me. At 45 I can use my middle age as a shield. Today I have a some perspective. Its simply uncomfortable to be in strange circumstances alone. Going away with no skills and no friends and nothing to ground me was bound to be uncomfortable. I just didn't know it would be at the time so I never was able to relax and just accept the experience--my discomfort hung on me like a big sign that said "stupid American girl". I didn't know then that you get better at being uncomfortable if you let it be ok--not a flaw.