As I begin to grasp the thought of walking these streets one last time, of punching in the code once more to my front door and of eating a final pogasca bread roll, I have become expectedly nostalgic. It's not so much nostalgia for the particular place or certain things or people. Rather, it's this idea that such a significant chapter in my college, and life, experience is coming to a close.
I arrived in Budapest on a cold and rainy August day, and I will leave it on a cold and rainy December day. That will not change. But so much else has changed since I first came here. Budapest has become a part of me. It has become routine, comfortable, inviting and warm. It has welcomed me, finally, after nearly four months here.
An abroad experience is often marked by the chance to drink legally or the chance to see a whole bunch of sights and e-mail pictures to parents. So, often the "success" of our time in another country is measured by the number of times we got wasted or how many stamps we get in our passports. At least that's how some of the people I know seem to be.
But there is another reason we do this. Our exposure to different cultures changes our worldview. We come to understand that the whole world does not revolve around the United States, as some people scarily seem to think. In general, we, as students in the United States, favor insularity to openness. Testing our ability to stay in some foreign place and adapt to a different culture is a chance to open our eyes.
And, with a few exceptions, it does. Going through such a seemingly insurmountable change in such a short amount of time makes the thought of leaving a place that altered your very being that much more difficult.
I did it all here, and I did it because I took a leap. I didn't know a soul in Budapest, had no familiarity with the language and had only visited once before on a family vacation. I came to Budapest with no preconceptions, no real direction-just the idea of escaping from my hectic life in the United States for a little bit.
It was the unknown that made everything seem that much more rich and significant. Sometimes, life has to be allowed some breathing room- letting it happen instead of waiting for it to happen. Budapest allowed me to take a backseat to life for once.
Believe it or not, I didn't know what it was like to stay in bed much past noon on a rainy day. In Budapest, I savored it.
Getting run over by a car and subsequently having one of your neighbors steal the rug you had so painstakingly selected in Istanbul. Yes, it happened while abroad in Budapest.
Going for a walk with no real direction or mission and then, finding yourself standing in front of one of the most glorious Art Nouveau mansions you have ever seen. In Budapest, I did it.
Eating at McDonald's despite my consistent protests and after seven years without it. In Budapest, I almost puked.
Learning Hungarian, one of the least useful languages ever to come into existence. Yeah, in Budapest I spent five hours a week learning it.
I did everything I didn't expect to do, along with some expected turns as well, when I was in Budapest. And I can't get enough of it. I want more. I want it all. I want this escape from reality to last a lifetime.
Yet, I've discovered the trick of the whole abroad experience: It lets you in just long enough to adjust comfortably, and all of a sudden, it casts you out again.
But perhaps that's the best way to go about life- better not overstay your welcome lest you tire of the place altogether. I will leave here always wanting more, instead of being thankful to leave. And frankly, if I can leave here waxing nostalgic after a shredded iceberg lettuce chicken patty salad at McDonald's, then, the place must have done something right.
