The Longest Day of My Life

While a "long day" typically implies something negative, I actually mean it in the best way possible. Thursday, December 17th, was both the longest day I've ever had and one of the coolest days I've ever had.

My first flight (to Sydney) was met with good news: I got a free $10 snack voucher! Wine, cheese, and crackers it is. I was nicely relaxed about my short Sydney layover after that. Not that I needed to be -- we landed 30 mins early! To top it off, the middle seat between me and a nice Australian woman was left empty. In long journeys, these little details can make your day. 

On the 9.5-hour flight from Sydney to Honolulu, I had a fright: I was expecting a complimentary meal, as always used to be a given with long flights, but I soon realized that only people who had pre-ordered meals would be getting them. My heart sunk as I stared at my potential dinner: gummies and granola bars. But then a steaming dinner was plopped in front of me, along with a "comfort pack" (with lotion, an eye mask, socks, etc) and cozy blanket. Somehow the ticket package I'd bought pulled through for me. I guiltily looked at the food-less people around me and scarfed down my dinner.

So here's why it's my longest day ever: I started flying at 3:15pm in Christchurch, and eventually landed at 6:45am in Honolulu the same day! That's the cool thing about coming from Oceana -- you magically go back in time en route, due to the fact that we cross over the international date line. My December 17th was going to continue -- and was also going to keep getting better, because now I had 12 hours to spend in Honolulu. 

Better yet, Brooke (my roommate in Göttingen, Germany during my month off study there) was coincidentally in Honolulu already. Thanks to an Instagram comment by my uncle Don that mentioned my layover, Brooke made the connection and got in touch. I owe you one, Don. So Brooke were going to have an unexpected reunion, and I couldn't be more excited about it. I hadn't seen Brooke since she visited me in Düsseldorf just over a year ago.

We met up at Pearl Harbor and did the tour there. Because of my time limit, we didn't do everything there, but the USS Arizona memorial tour was the perfect glimpse into the tragedy and politics behind what happened at Pearl Harbor. 

The Arizona Memorial, which is floating over the actual Arizona wreck.

Part of the topmost bit of the USS Arizona. There are around 900 men still entombed in the wreck.

The list of those who died in the attacks.

The water above the wreck.

Onboard the memorial.

After that we had lunch with Brooke's boyfriend and friend (they're all there for a chemistry conference), then she and I went to Waikiki to enjoy some time on the beach. I got to swim in the warm waters of the Pacific and get some vitamin D before spending a month in the desolate, sunless cold of Minnesota. 

A bit different from a Minnesota December.

"Smile, Brooke!"

So grateful for the reunion!

The day was all too short, of course, but considering the circumstances it was absolutely perfect. Better than perfect, since I was able to hang out with Brooke.  Life is crazy and fabulous sometimes! Oh, and an added bonus was that Brooke letting me shower at her place; if you've ever flown long distances with multiple layovers, you know how big a difference an extra shower can make.

Happy, exhausted, and squeaky clean, I finally ended my day by sleeping through the 7-hour flight to Dallas (where I am now). Despite the journey being days long, I really can't complain too much about it.

Next stop: home!

License to Chill

One thing I've noticed about traveling that is completely different from when I'm at home is a sort of guilt complex. If I'm relaxing in my cozy Düsseldorf apartment instead of going out and exploring, I feel bad about it. Even if I've been working 40+ hours during the week, plus various extra freelance jobs, I still feel like I need to go out and travel and have adventures on the weekend.

It's like being in a foreign country jumpstarts my brain into action mode. But does this mean I actually go exploring every weekend? Nope. It only means that I'll feel guilty whenever I stay in and just watch a movie, eating a healthy dinner comprised of exlusively Haribo Gummibärchen.

At home this would be a different story. I turn into a laziness addict as soon as I cross the threshold of my parents' house. Free (American-sized) snacks, a much bigger TV, comfy couches, no obligations... And I feel no guilt about it, because I'm home. And somehow being home gives me the license to chill--guilt-free.

I've often wondered if this trend is a bad thing. Am I missing out on some refreshing relaxation time by guilt-tripping myself in foreign countries? Or maybe the opposite: am I missing out on exploring my awesome city at home simply because I don't feel a specific obligation to do anything?

I think people (myself included) imagine a person living abroad to be having constant adventure. People often give me comments like, ''Wow, living abroad must be such an adventure!'' or ''I could never do what you're doing.'' A specific idea comes to mind: the image of a fearless explorer who fully immersing themselves in the vibrant culture around them, becoming fluent in the language and making exotic new friends. They're constantly having new adventures, be it climbing mountains, celebrating some local holiday, or destroying the One Ring.

Okay, I can understand why people think so. If you only look at my Facebook status updates, you'll see things like:

''Going to the Munich Oktoberfest!''
or
''Spontaneous trip to Amsterdam...Why not?''

So of course people think I'm having adventures. I'm actively leading them to believe it. Otherwise my status updates would look like:

''Today my back hurts a little bit more from sitting at a desk all day!''
or
''This weekend has been so epic: I watched TV and ate Haribo the whole time.''

But what if these people learned that they're being misled? That I'm only working a full-time office job, (while speaking English), and then just relaxing at home when I have free time? Would they finally realize then that it's all a facade?! That really we're living the exact same life, but in different time zones? Sometimes this thought brings me down. I go abroad looking for adventure, only to do more or less the same things I would do at home. I always end up thinking that I must be the laziest person alive.

So then why do I bother traveling at all?!

But maybe my inherent laziness is exactly the reason I love to travel so much. Traveling forces you to have daily ''mini-adventures.'' Usually these are simply difficultues that occur automatically when moving to a new country and culture, but they can turn out feeling adventuresome anyway.

Take yesterday. I had to rush to the post office to attempt to pick up a package. When standing in the shockingly long line, reading my book and ignoring the strange woman in front of me who kept turning around, I started formulating what I would say to the worker at the desk. The more time went by, the more nervous I got. It was reminiscent of how one feels when they have to give a presentation in German class...

But once I got up to the counter, I calmly and clearly (despite inevitable grammar mistakes) explained my complicated reason for not having the paper notification for this package. She understood and responded, etc. etc...

It was a seemingly simple interaction, but the fact that I never once panicked, understood what she said, AND was able to respond accordingly made me feel pretty proud of myself. I successfully completed another German conversation.

I walked out package-less, and yet still felt victorious.

Maybe this is the difference between living at home and living abroad. Maybe it's the fact that everyday things are always more difficult abroad, and when I have to deal with them I gain a little more knowledge or a little more confidence each time. Maybe this is why I'm so addicted to moving to new places, despite the money and lack of friends and daily difficulties. Maybe it actually is okay to be lazy and antisocial on the weekend.

Or maybe this whole post just one long written justification for me to be totally lazy this weekend.

Either way, I feel like I now have the License to Chill.