Every part of my life changed when I moved: friendships, family relationships, my city, country, school, hobbies, who I was surrounded by, the culture, the language, the rhythm of daily life, me, and even my relationship with God. Everything I was familiar with disappeared. A lot of people don’t realize that you still have a daily life within all the excitement of moving abroad. You have to learn to function as a representative of God in an entirely new way in an entirely different world. It takes time, it takes mourning of old ways, it takes honesty and grit, and it takes some really tough, confusing days.
Living in Budapest is beautiful because it’s an intersection of culture – people from all over the world, from all different backgrounds, with all different native languages and unique ways of life in one city. Witnessing connections across cultures and being a part of something that is so much bigger than myself is equally exhilarating and humbling. Sometimes the pressure of your own expectation is a burden too heavy for anyone to bear. But in the end, it’s worth it to dig deep and settle in, investing time and pieces of yourself in the people you meet and the places you frequent.
While it can be tempting to drag yourself from scene to scene, marking your place at every tourist attraction and checking off the list, there is something valuable in planting roots – letting yourself sink into new places, revisiting favorite coffeehouses and museums and shops and libraries and parks and even villages. Amongst all the great new experiences and famous landmarks, the most potent memories I will walk away with are the ones where I let my guard down in a quiet corner of the city and built a home right where I was.
Studying abroad is not usually comfortable. It’s demanding and overwhelming and chock-full of opportunities to learn and to grow. Over these last few months, I have learned how to take a running, reckless jump off the cliffs of familiarity into the unknown. I have learned how to communicate despite language barriers and foster empathy in cold city crowds. I have learned to find my voice and use it boldly and softly, no matter how starkly different or ineloquent I feel it to be compared to the voices of everyone around me.