Hi everyone,

It’s been just over a month since I returned home. And in that month, boy, a lot has changed. The current situation has given me ample time to revel in travel nostalgia and pine for days when things were, well, normal. But it’s also allowed me to reflect on my trip and all that I’m grateful for. So: as I’m processing all of this, I wanted to send out one final sign-off from suburban New Jersey to say thanks.

FYI: I did write one last update about New Zealand, as well. If you’re interested in reading about that part of my trip, you can do that here.

Privilege

First and foremost, travel is a privilege. There are millions of people in the world who will never get to even scratch the surface of what I did. During my last few weeks in New Zealand, I stayed at a place called Kohutapu Lodge on Lake Aniwhenua. The lodge was run by a Maori family—New Zealand’s indigenous people—and their goal was to not only to immerse us in their culture and customs, but also to effect positive change through tourism. As such, they donate a significant portion of their earnings back to the community. And each day that local schools are in session, they pack lunches for kids who don’t have one—and allow tourists to distribute them while talking with the children about their own home countries. As she explained this mission to us, the manager of Kohutapu said something that stuck with me:

“You see, whanau (whanau means “family” in Maori and is pronounced “Fah-no” in English)—a lot of these kids won’t ever get the chance to travel like you all are doing right now. A lot of them won’t even be able to leave this town. So we like having you come in, so we can bring a little bit of the world to them.” 

I’m so fortunate to have even had this experience at all. I’m thankful for the jobs I had before this trip that ultimately provided me with the funds to make it possible. I’m thankful for my family, who offered me a rent-free safety net when I returned. I’m thankful to live in a country where travel is encouraged, where I can make money, and save money—and where the dollar goes far.

Choice

So yes, travel is one of the greatest privileges a person could have. That being said, it’s also a choice. One that was really challenging for me to make … and sometimes just as difficult to justify when I was on the road. This journey was a true highlight—and probably the best decision—of my life, but I hit some lows along the way, too. There were moments when I was anxious. Lonely. Overwhelmed. Exhausted. Discouraged. Scared. And it was harder to endure those times knowing I had consciously, deliberately, and intentionally put myself in that position.

Luckily, I had—and have—an amazing support system. I have parents who loved me enough to worry about my every move, every waking minute, but still stand by my decision to leave. I have friends who followed along, checked in, and showed up when I needed them most. And I have a cousin and mentor who inspired and encouraged me from day one. (Shout out to Patrick Chapin, whose personal appetite for travel and 2003 round-the-world trip was a catalyst for my own—and whose relentlessly upbeat attitude helped me bring the same to my time abroad). So, to everyone who said that they were proud of me … thank you from the bottom of my heart. That approval allowed me to keep on keepin’ on. You’re the real MVPs.

Lessons learned 

In the past few weeks, I’ve felt like I’ve been in an intense game of tug of war with my own emotions. In the midst of this coronavirus craziness, everyone’s lives changed overnight. But for me, it seems even more extreme. In a little over a month, I went from making new friends on the daily and staying in hostels teeming with people to living in complete social isolation. From moving around freely every couple of days to incessantly wondering when the next time I’ll be able to scratch that travel itch will be. From being utterly relieved about the literal perfect timing of my trip (so many of the buddies I met abroad had to come home early as countries closed borders and banned flights) to feeling completely disheartened that this crisis hit right as I’m trying to reenter the job market (seriously, if any of you know what I can write instead of this blog, let a girl know!). But I take solace in the fact that, right now, I’m not the only one on this up and down seesaw that is reality.

If my travels taught me anything, it’s that life is a balancing act. In the seven and half months I was away, this lesson came to light in everything that I saw and did. It was evident in the small, day-to-day decisions I made: Should I travel quickly and cover lots of ground or slowly and enjoy myself more? How much time should I spend in the cities versus the country? When do I want to hang out with people and when should I tap out to take some time for myself? But it was also evident in the big-picture takeaways, too: Would challenging myself socially make up for not pushing myself intellectually? Which was better: the simple, stop-and-smell-the-roses mentality in so many of the places I visited or the Western rise-and-grind mindset I was used to back home? 

The answers were always firmly planted in the middle—in the gray area, in the in-between. And this, I think, is something that also applies to the circumstances we find ourselves in now. Optimism and frustration aren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, they’re two sides of the same coin and often coexist. You can see all the silver linings of a situation, but still feel down and out some days. Ups and downs are human nature—and that’s alright. But … if you can strike a balance that favors positivity at least 51 percent of the time, that’s a good first step. 😀

Ya’ll. One final thank you. THANK ALL OF YOU SO MUCH for reading these damn updates. I probably would have tried to write them anyway … but it was a lot easier knowing I had an audience.

Stay safe. Stay sane. And let’s Skype (or FaceTime or Zoom or whatever)?

Much love,
Caroline