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