Chasing Your Dreams

Hi everyone, 

I’d like to take you on a little trip a few years back. It’s the fall of 2016. Having returned in the spring that year from Bhubaneswar, India – where I spent my last semester as an undergraduate student at GVSU – I put off moving back in with the ‘rents as long as possible by working first as a camp counselor at a German language immersion camp in Minnesota, and then as a hiking guide for German tourists in the Canadian Rockies. As summer came to a close and I finally faced the inevitable, I returned to Howell and took on a couple odd jobs while preparing for the next major step in my life. 

During this time I felt a certain mix of emotions: excited that I had finished undergrad and could do whatever I wanted; overwhelmed that I had finished undergrad and could do whatever I wanted; and, of course, antsy to ‘get my life started’. It was a regular old quarter-life-crisis. 

It was at this point that I distinctly remember having a conversation with my mother in the kitchen during which I said something to the effect of, I think I’d like to spend the next five years living abroad (probably much to her horror – sorry ma!). You see, there weren’t many things I was sure of regarding my life back then, yet one thing I did know: that I wanted to spend my 20s living overseas. Life just seemed too short and the world too big not to. So I began the long process of applying for the English Program in Korea with my sights set on shipping out in the spring of 2017. 

And well, over five years, four ultimate frisbee teams, three cities, two countries, a pandemic, master’s degree, and a long-ass bike ride later, here I am! It truly goes by quicker than you think. There were of course many unplanned adventures along the way, like taking a trip to a contested island in the East Sea (독도 우리 땅! ;) or having a stay at a nudist campsite in the middle of France (it’s more fun than you think!). Indeed, I’ve got about 5 journals full of tales such as these. 

Now, did I know I was going to do all that (and then some) when I had that conversation with my mother back then? Of course not! But it all happened simply because I chased a goal and I took the opportunities I was afforded along the way. I tried to approach each new situation and encounter with a why not? Instead of a why? And it was totally worth it. Not because I want to collect stories for my grandchildren, but because achieving something, doing something, learning something, just feels fantastic. 

So to you, dear reader, having managed to put up with my ramblings for this long, my parting piece of advice is this: chase your dreams and say yes to anything and everything you can. It’s your life after all, and you only get one of them. Let it be an adventure to be experienced. Have a roadmap, but don’t let that deter you from taking the scenic route. 

It certainly won’t be all sunshine and rainbows. Indeed, there were moments of intense loneliness when I was abroad, moments where I doubted myself and what I was doing living so far away from home. There were (too many) tearful goodbyes and an immense amount of frustration when the world went into lockdown and plans needed to be readjusted. There were times when I felt I was missing out on everything happening back home. 

But dammit, I chased my dreams. I said yes to things, and I came out the end a better person for it. I hope you do too. 

So what’s next for me? 

Funnily enough, I find myself currently in a strangely similar situation to the one I was in a few years ago. Having returned home and worked several odd jobs (family landscaper and babysitter) I now await my next Lebensabschnitt: this time as a Global Mobility Coordinator and Immigration Specialist with Lufthansa in New York. I suppose this will be a bit of a different (domestic) undertaking, but I look forward to it all the same. 

For those who have followed along and supported my journey these past few years, thank you! I hope I’ve inspired you to go on an adventure of your own, no matter how big or small. Just go do. Learn to find the joy in all things, good or otherwise. 

“With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.” – Desiderata 

Much love, 

Ryry

On Saying Goodbye

It’s spring again, which means for me time to move once more – my fourth time in five years. I’d like to think I’ve gotten the hang of saying goodbyes at this point, but I feel like the more I do the harder they become. They’re exhausting and emotionally draining to the point that this time I almost felt like skipping the process altogether. In a way I feel like a masochist, repeatedly subjecting myself to the same painful process year after year. 

And yet, goodbyes are necessary. 

Goodbyes allow you to reflect on the time you’ve had with people. They are a part of everyone’s narrative and learning how to deal with them is an important life lesson. They teach you to confront the finality of our existence and to be aware of the people you have in your life – wherever and whenever that is. They’re a chance to tell friends and family how much they mean to you and you to them. And, if nothing else, they’re a chance for you to purge some of your belongings before hitting the road again. Still, that doesn’t necessarily make them any easier. 

I’ve often told people here that the reason I want to move back home is to be closer to family – and I do – but what of my family I’ve made over the past several years living an ocean or two away from home? How do I say goodbye to them? To people who have taught me so much and with whom I’ve been able to share so many wonderful experiences? How do you look someone in the eyes who’s become such an integral part of your life and say, Tschüss, schön war’s! 

Indeed, if there’s a schmerzfreie method of saying goodbye, I’m all ears. Yet I suppose in the end all you really can do is be gracious for the time you’ve been able to share with people. Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened, right? I also like to think of these encounters more as a see you later rather than a goodbye. Indeed, as a good friend of mine recently told me, the world is smaller and our hearts are bigger than we think. In this life or the next, we’ll all see each other again someday. 

To those who have been a part of my life in Ulsan, Fulda, and Regensburg over these past five years, thank you. You’ve enriched my life in countless ways. Don’t ever hesitate to reach out!

On Friendship

Hey all, it's been a minute. Not a whole lot has changed in my life since my last post. Still living in Regensburg while working and finishing up my degree (graduation spring 2022, here I come!). Where I end up at the end of this year is still a mystery, but I digress.

An old friend of mine from my days in Munich came and visited this past week and it was really quite grand. We drank beer and reminisced, got some work done for our respective universities, visited old haunts and made a couple new memories, and all-in-all just had a good-ass time. After all, that's what friends are for; are they not?

Yes, this past week served as a gentle reminder of something quite important in life - friendship. I'm quite lucky to have had the experiences in life that I have, but I'm even more grateful to have met the people that I have. 

During my time with the ski team at GVSU we used to have a little saying we'd joke about: If you're getting rad but nobody sees it, are you really getting rad? I mean are you?! I only remember this phrase because it was often uttered during the ridiculous games of G.N.A.R. we used to play on our ski weekends (and if one of you ski team alums is reading this, I'M THE BEST SNOWBOARDER ON THE MOUNTAIN!) Yet there still lies an interesting little kernel of truth in that saying. My time with the GVSU ski team was so special precisely because of all the goofy shit we did together as a team. I suppose a more appropriate version of this saying would be: If you're getting rad but have no one to share it with, are you really getting rad?

Human connection is indeed a wonderful thing that deserves to be cherished. The people I've met are the reason why my experiences in life were and continue to be as great as they have been. I suppose that's a large part of why this pandemic has been so difficult for so many of us.

In any event, if you happen to be reading this, take a moment and reach out to an old friend or acquaintance and tell them why you're glad to have had them in your life. No matter how strange you think it may be or how short your time together was, I'm sure they'd love to hear from you.

Life is a journey. Be grateful for the companions you've had and look forward to those that are to come. But above all cherish the presence of those in whose company you currently find yourself. That's living.

Thanks for the great time and thanks for being you, Elsa Smelsa.

The Thief of Joy

I began practicing a dangerous habit sometime last winter. Like all habits, it’s very addicting and hard to break once you start. It consumes you and doesn’t let you live life the way you want to. Thankfully, however, I do indeed feel myself coming out of it as of late – maybe it’s the spring weather. At any rate, here’s my experience with comparing myself to others over the last few months. 

I suppose it began when I really started to notice that I am no longer in lock-step with my peers. I saw that some friends and acquaintances have been progressing in their careers, while others are earning impressive academic titles. Some have gotten married and started families, while still others have purchased homes. A select few have done all that and then some! All of those things are truly great things and I am, on an intellectual level, very proud and happy for those people. Yet on an emotional level I often found myself wondering, what the hell are you doing with YOUR life, Ryan? 

And to that I would answer (most recently): I’m living in a student dormitory yet again with a shower that zaps me from time to time, a ‘kitchen’ the size of shoebox, and having tortellini pesto for the umpteenth time for dinner in a locked down city where I know all of five people. 

But I’m finally – and thankfully – realizing that life really is NOT a race. There is no right or wrong way to live it, and, well, when shit happens you gotta deal with it. All you can do is be the best version of yourself that you can be, when you can be, and nothing more. When friends and family back home reach milestones they are doing just that, and they certainly don’t deserve any ill-will for it just because I feel that I am “falling behind”. 

As a note to my future self (and to anyone else who cares): life’s a journey, not a race. Make the best of where you are and when you are – even if that’s a run-down student dorm during a pandemic. If nothing else it’ll make for a great story someday, like that time the Hausmeister ensured you that your shower is okay to use because – despite the electric current that sometimes runs through the water – you “won’t die in the shower.” 

Much love y’all and get vaccinated!

Ryry

Die Reise geht Weiter

Well, here we are, another two years gone by. In keeping with my biennial tradition this of course means it’s time to pack up shop and move somewhere else – this time to Regensburg as I begin my internship in international mobility and business travel. (Ahh yes, Bavaria, the Land of Lederhosen, giant pretzels, and the Weißwurstfrühstück.) As I’m done with all my seminars in Fulda at this point, I won’t be returning after my internship concludes either. It may well be the last move of my life lived abroad. Who knows?

It’s hard to describe how I feel at the moment. On the one hand, I’m always happy to try out something new and experience a new city. But on the other hand, I feel like I never got to know Fulda the way that I did Ulsan. While my first year here was exactly how I had imagined it, the second one just sort of had the wind taken out of its sails. Officially I’ve been a student in Germany, but it’s hard to feel like a student when you never step foot in a classroom for a year. It’s just like that second year just went by without me even realizing it. 

Yet, I still do have plenty of fond memories from my time here during the pandemic – whether through ultimate frisbee, bike rides, sending memes during online seminars, or deep conversations with some great new friends. We certainly made the best with the cards that we were dealt. In the end it’s all you really can do, I suppose. 

Pandemic or not, I’m learning that life does indeed go on. So, here’s to new relationships and experiences in Regensburg – and hopefully some sense of normalcy this year! 

Side note: If you happen to be reading this, I’d like to ask you to consider donating to my aunt’s gofundme page, if you can. She was recently diagnosed with a very serious illness and will be facing lots of extra expenses due her treatment. Any donation helps! Link: https://gofund.me/1fe59213

An American Abroad

Und wie heißt du? 

Ryan.

Ah, und wo kommst du her? 

Aus den USA. 

Oh, should we just talk in English then? 

What does it mean to be an American? Is it loving hamburgers, guns and freedom? Or is it being a radical left-wing socialist? I’m not sure I have an answer to this question. Whatever it means, it’s something I’m often confronted with abroad, as I’m sure many groups of people are when not part of the majority in a given context. 

Due to its sheer political and cultural weight, I get the impression sometimes that simply coming from the U.S. is a statement in itself loaded with connotations, presumptions and questions. Whether in the media, economically, or politically, the presence of the United States is indeed almost unavoidable. As an American abroad I thus become a de facto representative of this presence, and I often wonder if it’s possible to be perceived independent of my nationality at all. This seemingly inescapable identity is, after all, something I’m often ambivalent towards and something I’ll try to keep hidden if possible. Because, once my nationality comes to the fore, I feel myself become Ryan-the-American instead of just Ryan. 

Yet, I don’t necessarily harbor resentment for often being seen as an American first and an individual second. After all, humans constantly use categories to make sense of this world, myself included, and my nationality is just another, rather stark, category. We use these categories when encountering a new situation or a new person, reaching back into our preexisting knowledge of a given subject to help us interpret it. Thus, when my actions or personality are interpreted through the lens of my American-ness, it’s simply an attempt to understand me with the preexisting information available – even if that information is sometimes flawed: did I just eat that hamburger because I’m hungry and it was on the menu? Or did I eat it because I’m an American? 

Importantly, though, the categories I fall into (white, American, male, straight) are very privileged. While my actions being reduced to my nationality is noteworthy to the extent that I’ll write a blog entry about it, other categories reduce people to the point of systemic exclusion, or worse. Sure, I might get a little peeved if Germans immediately switch to English upon learning my nationality, or when it’s assumed that my childhood pastimes included chowing down on Big Macs and shooting rifles. But I’ve never been perceived as a danger or detriment to society due to the categories I was put in. 

It’s critical therefore to always be reflective in your interactions with others, especially with those that don’t share your identity – national or otherwise. Categories help us understand the world, but in reducing others to preconceived notions of who they are or should be, categories also prevent us from understanding the individual. 

Much love, 

Ryan (the American)

At Least We Can Still Go Hiking

I recently went for a little stroll up to a hilltop overlooking Fulda on a Sunday morning. The air was crisp and the clouds were few, and despite posted signs stating that there were newly-found ‘war materials’ in the adjacent forest, I did indeed find some peace and quiet up there. Coming off a week of anxiety induced stress, it turned out to be exactly what I needed. 

As I wandered around on that hilltop and took in the scenery, I couldn’t help but get a big stupid grin on my face. Then I started laughing because I was stupidly smiling with no one around, which only made my stupid grin bigger. (But really, how can you not smile when out in the neature?) It was truly a beautiful thing. 

That grin was beautiful because, to me, it was a small but strong gesture of defiance. It was a simple reminder that despite everything happening both in my life and around the world, going for a hike is still free and serenity a short stroll (or bike ride) away. It’s in those moments of re-centering that I remember how much I have to be thankful for. 

This has been quite the year of adjustment for all of us, to say the least. Dealing with frustration and disappointment, not being able to plan almost anything, and prolonged social isolation have certainly taken their toll on me. There are many things that I wish I could have experienced and some things (*cough* online conferences *cough*) that I don’t wish on anybody. And yet, I can still go hiking. 

And there ya have it, my thoughts as we wrap up this außergewöhnliches year. It’s simple, cliché, and quite true – all the makings for a perfect blog post, right? Here’s to something a little more gewöhnlich in 2021!

Long Time, No Post

Well, it’s been awhile. 

I’d like to say I haven’t posted since March because I was too busy, but I know that’s a lie. I’ve avoided posting on this blog because – perhaps like some of the rest of us – I didn’t want to accept the shitshow that is 2020. A pandemic, watching the US seemingly tear itself apart because of unresolved systemic racism, a president who behaves like an autocratic baby, and losing my grandfather have all put quite the damper on this year. I really wish I could say that I’m doing great now, but I know that’s a lie, too. 

Yet, if experience has taught me anything, it’s to make the best with what you’re dealt. And despite all that’s happened this year I have to acknowledge that I’ve still been dealt a pretty good hand. Of course I didn’t intend to move to Germany only to study my degree online, but I’m realizing my life in Germany consists of much more than just studying. It’s political discussions on Tuesdays and ultimate frisbee on Fridays. It’s interesting talks during the Mensatreff at lunch and long bike rides through the surrounding region on the weekends. It’s my job where I get to learn about the field of student mobility. And even in those online classes, it’s also making up games with classmates to keep yourself awake while staring at the computer, such as taking a drink of water every time the professor mentions his hometown. Besides all this, I also have a supportive family, supportive friends, financial security, good health and a purpose to be thankful for. 

Yes, I have been dealt a good hand indeed. (and it’s gotten better in the last couple of weeks: we’ve got some vaccines on the way and Donny Small-Hands is on the way out!) So, I suppose this post is more of a reminder to myself to continue making the best out of a shitty situation. 

In closing, I’d also like to mention that black lives do and always will matter. Systemic racism is real, and systems are made up of individuals. That means we all, myself included, have a part to play in fixing them. Reading a book is a good way to start 

much love, Ryan

One Year Gone, One Year On

It’s now been about one year since I arrived in Fulda, Germany to pursue a master’s degree in intercultural communication.  This also means it’s been about one year since I left Ulsan, South Korea, where I taught English for two years.  Accordingly, it has been quite the year of transition.

After every experience abroad I find that I always need some time to take a step back and process all that I’ve been through.  This sort of reflection is really quite critical after any sort of life transition, as it allows one to distill my experiences and draw lessons from them.  What made that time great? What made it not so great?  What could I have done better?  What shouldn’t I have done?

Moving directly from South Korea to Germany threw a bit of a wrench in this process.  Instead of this time for rumination, I found myself in that all-too-familiar arrival scramble; the one where you have to constantly put yourself out there to build a new social circle and develop a healthy routine at the same time.  Because of this, I don’t think I was really able to start adequately reflecting on my experience in Korea until sometime late last summer.

Resultingly, I often find myself now caught between two thoughts: Have I been living in Germany for one year?  Or has it been one year since I left Korea?  Yes, and yes.  If I focus too much on one, I end up neglecting the other.  I don’t want to be captive to my life in Korea forever, like that dude at a party who wants everyone to know HOW AMAZING some experience was, even though it has little relevance to anyone else.  At the same time, though, I don’t want to seal off those two years of my life and pack them away on some shelf in the back of my mind, never to be looked at again.  There was a lot of growth and lessons learned in those years (and some truly great memories) that will always be of use to me, and probably other people, too.  But I live in Germany right now, and previous time abroad has taught that to get the most out of this current experience, I have to invest my whole body and mind in my current location.

I don’t regret moving directly from one foreign country to another – that’s been a life lesson in itself – but, it has left me feeling pulled between these two places for the past 12 months.  Maybe if I’d had some buffer time at home between them, I’d have arrived here last year 100 percent ready to focus on where I’m at.  Instead, I feel that this past year has been characterized by trying to integrate into a new society whilst struggling to process what made those two years in Korea so great.  Easier said than done.

Well, at least now I have the time to do both.

Hope y’all are stayin’ healthy.

Much love,

ryry

Learning How to Lose

I recently traveled with my ultimate frisbee team for a tournament nearby in Würzburg.  Like most ultimate tournaments, there was lots of running around, flatball catching, spirit circles, beer-racing, dancing into the wee hours of the morning, and of course, a severe lack of sleep.  Unfortunately, there was also quite a bit of losing.

While I won’t say exactly how many games and by how much, suffice it to say that we weren’t exactly in the running for any of the top spots that weekend – except for the winning the party and spirit awards for the weekend (more on that later).

As much as I’d like to deny it, losing game after game of ultimate frisbee does wear one down a bit.  Indeed, some games end up being flat-out unenjoyable, like when there’s already a 10-point differential 10 minutes into the game and you can’t seem to get one successful pass off.  I’d absolutely be lying if I said I was having fun at times like those.

But I’ve come to realize that even in those demotivating experiences there is something to be learned; namely how to lose.  It’s one of those rather difficult lessons in life, which of course makes it all the more important.  Furthermore, it’s something everyone is familiar with, sports or no sports.  To pick your head up and grind it out with a level head all while getting whomped on is truly a challenge – one that my teammates here rise to every time.

At the end of every ultimate tournament one team usually receives the spirt award.  It’s one of cooler parts of ultimate frisbee, and it goes to the team which most embodied the spirit of the game (SOTG) at the tournament.  Having SOTG means, among other things, maintaining a positive attitude and playing with an appropriate game-intensity.  Each team rates their opponent’s SOTG after every game and the totals are tallied up at the end of the weekend.  Despite our W/L record, our team is consistently in the running for the spirit award and we even won it outright in Würzburg! 

And the more I reflect on it, the more I realize how special that spirit award is.  In Würzburg, it reflected a group of people that, despite some monstrous score differentials, continued to play their hearts out with an overwhelmingly positive attitude.  That is not an easy task, but it is absolutely something we all need to able to do in our lives.

We’re bound to lose at many things in this life, but how we lose is up to us.  We can lose with SOTG or without it, and I’m quite thankful for the Fuldimates for demonstrating which is the better choice (and also for showing me what a Partysieg looks like).

Reisen ist Arbeit

Reisen ist Arbeit - Travel is work.  This phrase was introduced to me during the first couple months of my year in Munich – my first real international experience.  If I remember correctly, it was in the context of explaining culture shock and the U-curve of study abroad.  Of course, at that time the exact meaning of this was rather hazy for me, a 20-year-old preoccupied with collecting as many travel stories as I could.   Nevertheless, it’s something that stuck with me back then, and it’s become much more salient in my life the longer I stay overseas and come to terms with the fact that travel isn’t always the most instagrammable thing out there.  In fact, it’s often not.

Apart from the good things we all like to share, travel can be lonely when you’re on day three of a solo trip and haven’t had meaningful conversation with anyone yet.  It’s overwhelming when you’re trying to get basic necessities sorted after you first move to a foreign country.  It’s uncomfortable when you’re on a 14+ hour bus ride with no leg room and a dude the size of a truck in the seat next to you.  It’s exhausting when departure times force you to sleep in places you were never meant to sleep in.  It’s frustrating when so much of what you’ve experienced can’t be shared with other people you care about.

It’s emotional when you have to say goodbye more often than you’d like.

It’s heartbreaking when you have to say goodbye sooner than you’d like.

Travel can be downright brutal on you sometimes.  Indeed, I’ve lain awake quite a few nights wondering to myself what the hell I’m doing halfway around the world, away from all things familiar.

So, why do it?

Purpose.  For each person it’s probably slightly different, but to really succeed in long-term international travel, I’ve come to believe you need to find a purpose in it beyond “seeing the world” or “experiencing a new culture”.  Notions like that are good for a while, but what keeps you abroad after you’re not absolutely enamored with everything you see?  What keeps you abroad after you’ve said goodbye to most of your friends and sign on for another year or move somewhere else?  What keeps you abroad after you feel yourself becoming part of so many lives and places, but never fully belonging to one? (Or in the words of the one and only Bilbo Baggins, “like butter spread over too much bread”)

A purpose does all that.  A purpose is what keeps you steady in all those valleys of travel.  It’s that mental piece of luggage you can take with you everywhere you go, and it stays with you no matter the duration of your trip.  It’s also something you can share with everyone you meet as you form and reform your social circle in a world of constant change.  And should you lie awake on those nights of doubt, it’s what’ll allow you to fall back asleep.

So, if indeed Reisen ist Arbeit, then your purpose is exactly the thing you should be working on as you travel.  After all, it’s the one thing that makes it worth it.

Much love,

ryry

Doin' it

Well here we are, a little over a month into my program over here, and it’s one of those times where I just like to pause and take it all in.  I mean, here I am doing the two things I love most: traveling and learning.  Indeed, life is good.

Anyway, here’s what a look at what grad school has been like for me so far:

I enjoy the classes for the most part, although trying to discuss things in the German taught seminars still remains a bit of a struggle.  Then again, due to the abstractedness of some of these seminars, I wonder if I’d even be able to contribute much to the discussion in these classes even if they were taught in English.

In addition to our subject classes, we’re required to take a foreign language, which for me is French.  To be honest, I can’t help but laugh at myself every time I speak because I just sound so ridiculous, but I have fun all the same.  Also, learning French in a German-speaking environment is sometimes just beyond confusing.  My goal in this is to reach a B2 level by the end of my program, without sounding like a doofus every time I speak.

I’ve also managed to snag a job in our department’s research center, which has been a nice little introduction into the world of academia.  So far, my boss has me mostly proofreading articles in English for a book we’re planning on publishing in the coming year, but… ya know, if she ever needs a fancy PowerPoint template with pictures of BTS and TWICE, I’ve got a google drive folder full of them.  Sadly, I don’t think I’ll be able to dedicate as much time to reading the ranting thread at waygook.org at this job however…

Outside of these things, ultimate keeps me active during the weeknights, although I probably won’t be able to dedicate eight consecutive weekends to tournaments any more #weekendsR4studying.  Still, the tournaments I do go to are always a blast and filled with lots good times…and “landsharks”.

Anyway, I guess the point is, I’m doin’ it; living and studying in Germany, which is something I’ve wanted to do since my first experience abroad in Munich six years ago.  It feels great, and I feel very, very, very lucky to be doing what I am.

Keep on keepin’ on,

Mom’s spaghetti