Solo traveling was a fever dream. I'm back to being my insufferable, headstrong, and cat-motivated Midwest server self.
Sure, I've collected stories that improve my general popularity and self-esteem, and eaten some of the best food in the world. I was blessed with Greek generosity and Dutch lesbian bartenders. Avant-garde museums and freezing train stations. I visited architecture I wrote about in college essays, read Mrs. Dalloway from the highest tower in London, and straddled the border of Germany and France, marveling at my privilege.
In Athens, I was awed by Exarcheia and the sheer number of artists committed to dismantling the oligarchy. Every German I met was vegetarian or vegan, and my new friends from Spain could not fathom the number of U.S. mass shootings each year.
But this trip left a bad taste in my mouth. I can't sustain the connections I made, and I won't regain the $7500 anytime soon. I tote myself as a positive person, but solo travel did a number on my mental health. I felt completely, utterly American. I didn't want to learn local languages or watch local news. I was in Athens when a train crash killed 50+ students, and I felt numb.
I keep thinking about Tom's line in Succession: "What you need to know from a U.S. news perspective is that we really don't give a fuck. We don't know because we don't really want to know."
Thinking about the trip hurts because it reminds me about how disconnected (and medically dissociated) I felt at the time. I can't tell if I cared so much that I got overwhelmed and avoided the hurt, or if I really don't give a fuck. And I feel like a child.
I don't know when we stop being children.
Europe has a long, shitty history, and it was worth visiting. The Anne Frank House was the most meaningful experience of my life. I loved facing the Naxos wind with a Turkish coffee in one hand and a raki & sanguine screwdriver in the other. But I thought this trip would help with my apathy, and it didn't. I discovered how much work needs to be done at local & systemic levels, and I checked out. Truth is, I'm a writer who hates to be alone. I prefer fiction to blog posts; my characters are my company, and I depend on a village of people who love me unconditionally and inspire me to grow.
I'm writing this to suggest, if you're motivated, to go vegan or volunteer or run for local office or pick up trash or watch the news or read a book or write a blog post or try a new medication. Protest, meal prep, take a nap. These all sound generic and whitewashed, but what else can I say to make this trip worth it? Cliche as it sounds, I want my writing to make the world a better place. Maybe I've changed after all. Love, S