This was originally a culturally insensitive title as an attempt at a joke, but I thought better of it, so you’re welcome.

Around four hours before I left Japan for what is now the indefinite future, I left a backpack filled with about $3,ooo worth of electronics on a train headed towards the north of Tokyo.

That grammatically incorrect (can’t be bothered to check) sentence accurately describes my entire experience of studying abroad. The highest highs and the lowest lows. That’s right, there was lows, because I’m a human being and not a Center for Global Education travel brochure. But first I should explain, I’ve been putting off writing this for reasons I can’t entirely put my finger on. Partially because I think I needed the time to process my experience and partially because I think I wanted to hear from other people who had come back as well (so I could make myself feel bad when my experiences didn’t compare). Regardless the reason, I’m forcing myself now to put everything to digital paper, because maybe it’ll help me, maybe it could help someone else and maybe I just want to squeeze every last drop of attention out of this experience that I can. Here we go.

I was in a bit of a hurry. I didn’t realize I had forgotten my backpack until I was on a high-speed train to the airport. The next two hours were a combination of freaking out on the train, calming down, freaking out in the airport, calming down on a high-speed train back to Tokyo, riding the subway to some suburb and then having a hurried phone conversation in broken Japanese. Mind you, that phone conversation in broken Japanese was one of my proudest moments as a student of the language. I somehow communicated who I was, where I was and what I was missing to a random train attendant and on top of that I understood most, if not all of his questions. So what if our conversation’s first few minutes where me shouting “I lost my bag” into the phone? I think I did remarkably well.

I was not able to get the bag in time, but I did find it. It took the combined efforts of a kind friend and an extremely helpful Japanese R.A. to break the bag out from it’s final destination, The Tokyo Metropolitan Police (one could write pages about Japanese law enforcement and their treatment of lost items). But, about a week and a half after getting back from Japan, at a rundown karaoke bar in Orange County , I got my backpack back. If that is not a testament to the kindness of the Japanese people, the power of friendship, the value of electronic communication and the importance of a culture built on respect, then I don’t know what is.

Losing my bag filled me with the same fear that I had when I initally arrived in Japan. Not that I wouldn’t survive or that I would get injured, lost or killed (two of those are pretty much impossible, I’ll let you guess which) but that I wouldn’t be able to survive in a way that would be enjoyable. I came to Japan after all, to have fun. Looking back now I would say that I achieved that. But if Current Me were to tell Past Me that (Past Me would of course view Current Me as a Future Me or really a Possible Future Me because of string theory or whatever) I’m not sure he would believe it. The first month was rough. A very subtle rough, but rough nonetheless. I fumbled through pretty much every interaction, even the one’s in English and I felt like I would never feel completely comfortable where I was. But those things faded with time (the feeling comfortable thing not as much, but that is probably symptomatic of a larger psychological problem I’ll face down the road. Look forward to it!) and I started to view Japan and my small dorm room as a proto-home.

The opportunity to feel that crushing uncertainty (other than all the time, am I right?) and then the growth that comes when you solve your own problems is not something I had really felt after Freshman year of college. The ability to find one’s self, build new relationships and feel the warmth of those early milestones was great. If anything study abroad is worth the price of admission just for that. I purposely chose Japan because I wanted to be away from what I knew and the people I knew (the people bit was harder, but that can’t be helped at this point). I wanted to make new friends and I did. With people close to home and with people on the other side of the country. All are invaluable and even though the pessimist in me knows the friendships we made will literally mean nothing to those people in a weeks time, the optimist in me wants them to last a lifetime. Without those friends I probably would have died of shame on an airport-bound train and I most definitely would not have gotten back my backpack. So I owe a big thanks to them and hopefully many future thanks.

That notion of growth is important too; forever engraved in my memory is that triumphant phone call to a confused train attendant. That kind of change most closely speaks to my least favorite part of the Study Abroad PR spin. The notion that this will “change your life”. That living in another country, eating their convenience store sandwiches and drinking their cheap watermelon-flavored canned sake will make you a new being. I came to Japan with the intention of disproving this idea and I’m not entirely sure that I succeeded.

I am not one to be spontaneous, out-going or extremely friendly. I don’t go out of my way to get my needs met and I do not put up a fuss when things go horribly wrong. But in Japan and throughout this lost bag ordeal, I did. Somehow in the time I left the airport, heading to the dorms for the first time, I made friends with people. And then I did it again. And multiple times after that. When I lost my bag, I didn’t spend the entire time wallowing in my shame ( to be fair, I did some), I worked up the courage and asked a nice Japanese man for help. I don’t think I’m suddenly a different person now, but rather that studying abroad allowed me the opportunity to do things that Normal Me wouldn’t do. I don’t see the world in a new light or suddenly understand life, but I do recognize that being in a new place, with new people, can bring out the best and worst in you. And it did for me and it could for you, reader, who may or may not have travelled outside of whatever place you believe to be home. Not to say that you can’t find opportunities like these close to home, but rather, while abroad they are unavoidable. Also not to say that “home” is any kind of physical place. For me, I would say it’s a state of mind. A comfortable pattern of thoughts that I can settle into once enough things have stayed the same for a long enough time.

To put a button on it, the unavoidable opportunities for growth and the comfortable and uncomfortable differences of places that are not home make you realize things. I learned that I loved the United States and California especially and I found that I can be something a bit more than who I really am when I’m forced to.

So being home is weird. I feel out of place. Like nothing has changed, but also everything has changed. Caught somewhere in the middle, maybe in the metaphorical Pacific Ocean, hopefully over a metaphorical Hawaii. For however weird I feel, I know that it is going to go away and I know that it has been worth it.

I speak from a place of tremendous privilege, but if you can afford it economically, horologically and psychologically, then I highly recommend participating in education abroad. You’ll not stop learning and afterwards you’ll have the opportunity to write dumb posts like this one. It’s important to know that studying abroad will not change your life, because your life changes in beautiful seen and unseen ways every minute of everyday. You should go to have fun (because the learning is a given) and you shouldn’t be afraid to be afraid (I am a monster built from clichés). You should go to somewhere drastically different from home (I could cast a lot of dispersions about going to someplace familiar, but just please try to go someplace where your native language is not the dominant language if you can, I promise you won’t regret it) and you should expect and try to participate in the unexpected.

There’s not much more I can say and while this wasn’t where I expected to arrive, it is where we are. Or maybe, we are where it is.

Around four hours before I left Japan for what is now the indefinite future, I left a backpack filled with about $3,ooo worth of electronics on a train headed towards the north of Tokyo. I know I am better for it.