Hooray! A semester in Australia, here I come! Warm days full of sun and plenty of adventure to fill that time! Then I stepped out of Sydney airport on July 19, greeted first by a man in a parka, then by a cold gust of southern Australia winter wind. Thankfully, Sydney was not my destination that day. Townsville's tropical weather yielded a warmer welcome to my shorts and T-shirt a few hours later.
That was five months ago. Tomorrow, my academic career at James Cook University will end with three hours of examtastickness. An hour after I'm done with those shenanigans, I will be on a plane for Melbourne and Chicago will be my final destination home after a brief tour of New Zealand. Do I really want tomorrow to arrive though?
I will never aptly describe the magnificent times this semester delivered. There simply are too many memories. I do not even know if I will recall them all when I return home to Chicago and eventually Durham.
I recall the shock of seeing a barefoot student enter my first lecture. What kind of people are these Australians, so confidently casual that they don't wear shoes to class or, I later learned, anywhere else they choose not to wear them?
An entire semester did not give me a complete answer.
Only now do I realize that the Office of Study Abroad was not merely conspiring to keep more juniors off West Campus when they recommended that students spend a whole year abroad.
This semester was admittedly not the most rigorous academic endeavor ever undertaken. Studying abroad cannot be such an effort; it's a time to explore, not only a new culture, but also a period to find new aspects of yourself. Jumping into a pool full of strangers who on the surface are similar to Americans--as Australia often acts as our little brother--yet when trying to touch the bottom I realized it was the deep end. Things are different down here; lifestyle, language and food to name a few. It took me a month to realize I really liked the place and erase any regrets over leaving Duke.
Now with so little time remaining, I am torn. While anxious to return to Duke, my good friends there and more challenging work, I cannot help but feel anguish over the all-too-soon departure from these shores.
Here I found greater independence. I no longer hesitate to travel across the country by myself, whereas this time last year I wanted a wingman to traverse a quad on Friday nights to visit a party.
I met extremely relaxed and kind people who had no problem skipping class to take three newly arrived Americans to a rainforest waterfall or play a game of soccer.
In Townsville, high fashion equates to "pluggers" (flip-flops), board shorts and a tank top.
Just when I finally found my groove Down Under, it is time to re-establish my ways at home. As part of my re-acclimation to life stateside over the next couple of weeks, I will eat McDonald's three times a day, avoid Aussie slang and wash my shirts before wearing them a third time.
But before I let go, I need to remember. Initially, I planned on bringing back souvenirs not only for family and friends, but also myself. These keepsakes, of which I have many from previous journeys, are supposed to serve as tangible reminders of the places I've been and in turn the memories. Tacky knick-knacks from Africa, France and all across the United States currently clutter my room-I, like most people am a materialistic collector, and that's what we do; we collect worthless junk that at the time we feel will remind us of our past. These "precious" keepsakes somehow hold a special place in our hearts, and we carefully guard them to preserve our thoughts.
This time will be different. I will leave Australia and New Zealand without taking more than what I've gotten along the way. Items that I bought more out of necessity than as souvenirs include: two shirts, a beer stein from Oktoberfest and a wine tasting glass. I did not acquire the Australian beer gut (though not for lack of effort), but the Queensland sun did give me a pink nose and a decent tan. Even they will fade with time.
What then am I left with from these six fantastic months abroad? Pictures, of course, the massive amounts of photos will entertain and occupy my parents while I sleep off jet lag. Yet even these will not do justice to the experiences I've had. I now realize however that no possession in the world can take away my adventures and friendships. Nothing can ever seize those from anyone; they are truly the only indestructible entities existing.
Friendships led to escapades I never imagined. Not merely physical adventures, like hiking across an island, sailing through the Whitsundays, rock-climbing, etc., but, more importantly personal exploration, begging questions not often pondered, with answers not to be shared publicly and for one other awakening feelings never before roused.
I will leave here having met some of the quirkiest people imaginable, the type that do not inhabit the Gothic Wonderland. These are not merely Australians, but also Americans that I will stay in touch with and hopefully see someday, though our future meeting is not set in stone. For now though, I return to Duke University for another second semester. Knowing that friends, save a select few, enter life for but a very short time, but these relationships are nevertheless life's only real souvenirs.
It's funny how life, like a dismal Chicago Cubs season, repeats itself almost as a pure circle. The uncertainty I faced months ago returns, though with the same anticipation. I leave extraordinary friends and a comfortable place returning to a place that while it is familiar will seem different, along with those whom I look forward to reuniting with. I have changed, but I am excited to see how much and how life repeats itself. It's winter in Durham.
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