Something I’ve been working on since being out here is taking my headphones off while using public transit, wandering around the city, or sitting for a few minutes to catch my breath at the skatepark. I have a bad habit of drowning out my surroundings with music—making playlists on the bus and generally trying to keep to myself in public. Yesterday, I was at the skatepark and had been skating one of the ledges back and forth with someone for a while. I had my headphones on, working on a specific trick, and once I landed it, I decided to sit for a second. He skated past and seemed to gesture at me but kept going.
The skatepark is the easiest place for me to make friends, and I reminded myself of this because I often skate with the sole intention of learning a new trick. This focus is great for critical thinking, problem-solving, and working on patience and persistence. Unfortunately, it can overshadow one of the greatest parts of skateboarding: meeting and getting to know other skaters. Many conversations at the skatepark revolve around skateboarding, and for the past year or so, I’ve been trying to emphasize asking other skaters questions that have nothing to do with skating.
When I took my headphones off, the gentleman skated past again. He congratulated me on landing my trick and mentioned how that particular direction of motion has always been difficult for him. I struggled with the exact opposite direction of rotation, which happened to be his specialty, so we began offering each other tips and skated the ledge again. Eventually, we both had to leave and we took a long walk to the tram stop together. We gradually shifted the conversation away from skating and I found out he was a high school graduate on a gap year (something I did a few years ago) from Belgium. He studied economics and science in a specialized program with a plan to attend law school in Denmark where there’s a program that invites international students to not only study for free but to receive a stipend for groceries and other living costs. He discussed how he had been traveling to different cities around the world during his gap year but didn’t get to plan where he would go. His dad would book a flight, not tell him the destination or return date until dropping him off at the airport, and at that moment, he would have to book a hostel, figure out places to visit in that city, and generally just wing it. We talked further about university plans, the uncertainty of our futures, the excitement that brings, and the emotional ups and downs of trying to be a rolling stone while keeping the moss away. We both agreed that a little bit of moss is comfortable and cozy, and one day will be necessary and welcomed. But in the meantime, we both feel the urge to keep on rolling.
A few weeks ago in Dresden, I stayed in a hostel. I was placed in a bunk room alone. Around midnight on my first night, I had my headphones on, listening to music with the lights off, and slowly falling asleep. There was a knock at the door, which I didn’t hear, and suddenly, the hostel owner walked in with a woman who would be staying there. My first instinct was to say a quick hello and return to sleep, but I reminded myself that I had the rest of my life to listen to the same recordings over and over again, while I might never see this strange traveler again. As she unpacked, we talked about her travels. She was twenty-seven, had been backpacking for several months, and was slowly making her way to London for a housesitting gig. She told me about all the amazing places she’d been, and the challenges she’d navigated, and also discussed feelings of missing home. We ended up talking for about an hour. The next night, while I was reading, an Italian man struck up a long conversation with me. When I said goodnight and was headed to bed, the two Russian women I had noted in one of my earlier posts called me over, and we had a delightful time asking each other questions through Google Translate.
I love music, and I enjoy being in my own little world, but nothing has filled my heart out here like spontaneously getting to know a stranger. I’m hoping to bring these skills back to the US and not be discouraged by our innate individualism. Taking my headphones off here in Prague, as well as in other cities, has led me to make friends who now invite me to their apartments, take me to cool events, and share advice on how to make the most of my time here. I can’t imagine anything more special than sharing food and shelter with someone who not long ago was a foreign stranger and is slowly becoming a close and dear friend.
It’s easy to keep my head down, but the more I put myself out there the more I want to continue to. I’ve met so many people living such different lifestyles that I’m considering new possibilities for what could come after I graduate from DU. The world can feel small and close-knit amongst people who have the privilege to travel so freely, but speaking to as many of those people as possible also reminds you how intriguingly irregular humans are and of the many colorful paths people choose to/end up going down, and that at this point in life, I’m incredibly lucky to have so many doors open.
DU Abroad 