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Author: Maggie Reid

Begin Again

Begin Again

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Rebuilding something after a shatter is quite the undertaking of a project. It can be a mess when trying to fit all the pieces back together as they once were before. After the shatter, some parts may be too small, like tiny, annoying crumbs within the fibers of a carpet, and other pieces just too big to match with any of the small ones. So what I have learned from my past and my recent spring break trip, is that rebuilding is not trying to put all the pieces back together exactly, in the same shape and same form as before, but it is simply more like starting over, starting again, and starting new with different pieces, different materials, and different approaches. It is never forgetting what once was, but realizing the magnificence of what is beginning again, and that is starting over.

Over my spring break, I traveled to Serbia, and Bosnia-Herzegovina and then I ended my trip in Hungary. Each of these three places taught me something new, but Sarajevo in Bosnia-Herzegovina specifically broke my heart, but would put it back together again and again with its people, faith, and culture. Sarajevo taught me what it means to have strength in love, and never fear. It taught me about what it means to rebuild a city, a community, a home, a faith, a heart, even while everything around you has been horrendously taken away. Before arriving to Bosnia-Herzegovina, I had little to no prior knowledge about the Yugoslav wars of the 1990’s. After learning through various museums, tours and personal stories from people who actually went through the war at the time that they were happening, I became increasingly aware of the extreme magnitude of trauma, pain, heartbreak, and violence these people have endured, and unfortunately still have to carry with them as a part of them everyday. The horrendous violence and genocide of the ‘90’s wars proves the extremely dangerous and inhumane rhetoric and acts around ‘ethnic cleansing’ and territorial revenge. The extremely difficult and traumatic stories of those who have survived are a testament to the need of educational awareness surrounding this war, and others so it never happens again.

Although the people of Sarajevo remember, honor, and commemorate their past frequently, they have show me what it looks like to remain strong and kind, even after the unimaginable. Their architecture is a beautiful mix of old and new with historical remnants of their tragically violent past. The food is their breadth of family and community, while their present faiths are a reminder of peace between peoples themselves, not simply their beliefs. The people, and culture, of Sarajevo are indicators of how the past will always be a part of you, but rebuilding the heart requires a will to move forward. It does not mean you move on, it simply means you start over with the knowledge that the broken old pieces will never be whole once more, but that the different new pieces can create something fully, completely, wondrously, beautiful.

Thank you Sarajevo for sharing your broken, and new, pieces with me…
Look Up Child

Look Up Child

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These past two weeks have been filled with the giggly, smiley, laughing, overwhelming kind of love drizzled with a few tears and a whole lot of Pastéis de Nata. The weeks, and even the days themselves, I often feel have their own “W” with curvy lows, and reviving highs. In the grand scheme of the study abroad experience, spring break tends to be the middle high which is quickly approaching. Thankfully, my sister and brother in law visited Rome a couple of weekends ago that refreshed my heart and my attitude on the first big dip of the semester. With a blend of gratitude  and overwhelming uncertainty, I was feeling most unlike myself during that low, but seeing my sister was exactly what I needed. It pushed me to come back to why I am here in the first place. To grow. To get out of my comfort zone. My everyday realization is when you do not feel like yourself that is often when you are just discovering something in yourself you did know you had before. It is simply uncomfortable because you are growing. So just sit in it, feel it, and do the best you can. My sister, as well as my brother in law, and I roamed around the city, eating pizza, pasta, and gelato at every turn. We did a couple of walking tours with one hilarious tour guide who never minded to photobomb anyone’s picture, went to a market in the Testaccio neighborhood of Rome, and visited my school campus. It was filled with memories I will never forget and collect in my heart for the rest of my life.

My friend has always wanted to travel to Portugal. I was neither here nor there about it. However, I found the trips that have no expectations around them with no clue what you are getting into end up being one of the best experiences filled with incredible memories, usually more than the planned ones. So we went for it. Lisbon, Portugal would be my first out of Italy tripe since I traveled from America, and it will probably be one of my favorite trips when I look back on study abroad. We stayed at a beautiful hostel in the heart of the city filled with eclectic mosaics and curvy bricked archways. Our first day, we walked around the steep cobblestone streets, ate some steamy garlic buttery shrimp, and found a circus themed sardine shop. We ate dinner at the hostel where a Portuguese chef cooked us a delicious meal filled with fish, potatoes, and a creamy mushroom dish as well as a bunch of vegetables. My friend and I mingled with others at the dinner, each person being from a different place. It was surreal to know that we were eating dinner with people from all over the world, and even though we may all come from somewhere else, we were all sharing similar conversations about our lives over a delicious meal. 

Our second day was filled with exciting, beautiful, on top of the world moments. We traveled to an abandoned restaurant from the 1960’s that has over the years been the site of creative art through graffiti. It has not only become a beautiful building, but it also has a wide view of the city. It was one of the first moments realizing how incredibly beautiful Lisbon is and how it is truly one of a kind. We then headed more towards Sintra, a city about forty five minutes away from Lisbon. We stopped at Quinta Da Regaleira, an elaborate estate built in the early twentieth century. It was a medieval-like playground filled with underground, pitch black tunnels, mossy ponds, greener than green gardens, windy wells and staircases, and enchanting buildings. Yet again, I was overwhelmed with the imaginative beauty that we saw there. Our tour continued on to the most beautiful beach my eyes have ever seen. Yes, I love a relaxing lake Michigan day, but this Portuguese beach was something else. There were large rocks that framed the crashing waves that perfectly washed upon the shore. My friend and I ran up and down the beach, catching, and splashing the water, getting a little more wet than we expected, but it just made it all the more fun. There was a Dad and his two daughters playing a game of running to not touch the water when it came up to shore. They were giggling, laughing, and smiling as their Dad would count down to the next time they should run. He would scoop them up and spin them around. It may be the sentimentalist in me, but it reminded of how often love can be found anywhere and everywhere you go. In the sun, in the sand between your toes, in the laughing, in the special family moments, it is all love. After the beach, we stopped for lunch and then we headed to two different outlooks to see the sunset. One was right off a cliff and the other was at a sanctuary, but both were equally breathtakingly beautiful. As I sat, and I felt the sun hit my face, hit the rocks, hit the water, hit the view of Lisbon, I thought about how I grateful I am to be in the exact spot I am in. Two years ago, my family and I were in an extremely rocky place, and I was not sure we would get out of that dark hole. Right then, right there in Lisbon, it reminded me of the hope in a new day. The hope that things can always change if you are willing to let it, and the acceptance that it may need to. Thank you Lisbon for the beautiful views, the delicious food, and the hope of a new day rising always. More often than not, it is simply just a matter of looking up.
Head in the Clouds

Head in the Clouds

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A quarter of the way through my time here abroad and I am all emotions. On one spectrum, I am happy and exhilarated of all that I have seen and done thus far. On the other end, I am exhausted, physically, mentally, and socially. I have traveled to the southern part of Italy to Campania, and I have traveled up to the northern part of Italy to Florence and Pisa. I have marveled at the history of the past, whether it is walking through a museum with centuries old art, or strolling through Paestum as if I can relive the past of so many people who came before me, my imagination has sparked in all forms. The other day, my class and I traveled to the Roman National Museum where we saw a fresco of Augustus’s wife, Livia Drusilla. It is a beautifully detailed garden scene that wraps around all four walls. It is believed to have been a part of their villa as their dining room decor. In my wildest imaginations, I can only dream about what those walls may have seen and heard. Yes, walls may not have a heartbeat, but they can still hold the memories of people, dead and alive. It reminds me how much of our lives, and our stories can become intertwined in art. It is able to keep alive pieces of us after we are gone, and connects us in all sorts of ways. I found the creativity and imagination of art again in Florence and Pisa. The architecture of the buildings breathe so much history while reminding me of a fragile card house, and a tilt-

ing jenga tower, about to be toppled down with one big blow of air. My friends and I filled our stomachs with warm paninos, carbonara, and chocolate souffles that were heaven on earth. We headed to Pisa for a day to see the famous leaning tower and we found it as cool as everyone says it is in all of its falling glory. On our last day in Florence, we stumbled upon a parade of renaissance dressed men walking along the cobblestone streets, marching towards a reenactment of some sort. Yet again, I found myself drifting into my childhood imagination of what the past might have looked like. These past few weeks have clearly reminded me to keep my imagination alive to retell the past, paint the present, and connect with others in the future. Let the dreaming and imagining continue…
Most Of Us

Most Of Us

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Since I was a child, the idea of traveling has always excited me, whether it was trying flaky pastries in a small village in Paris, or walking through the historical entrances of Pompeii, I have always been fascinated by the world and all of the distance that separates us as human beings, and yet, all of the everyday commonalities that unite us. However, I am a deep dreamer, and thinker, constantly wondering, and often doubting, about the next move, step, or leap. Although this may be useful for planning and organizing, I have found that this state of mind can get me into trouble. You see, overthinking can turn your wildest, happiest dreams into a prison of fear, anxiety, and doubt. It can lead to a place of certainty, safety, and comfort, but what I have found over the past couple of years is that there is no room for growth, nor learning when set in a box of sameness. See, I enjoy a well rounded routine with a schedule that is almost set to the tee, but I am constantly faced with the decision to break free bit by bit from my comfort zone and face everything that scares me. This includes leaving behind a magical fall school semester, a beautiful city that I call home, and family and friends who have carried me through a tumultuous couple of years.

My decision to study abroad in Rome, Italy was surrounded

with months of contemplation and discussion with family, friends, advisers, and even strangers at the grocery stores who would jump at the chance to relive, or do over, their study abroad experience in college. However, my decision came only clearly to me through writing, specifically when overlooking the waters of Lake Michigan, watching the sailboats pass back and forth, and the sun hitting the water just right. One day, when I was sitting by the water, I turned to the left of me and found a lonely grasshopper. Now, I am known to believe in signs, and I, of course, took this as one. After researching the meaning of grasshoppers, I found that they are representative of jumping forward into the unknown, without jumping backward into the past. Believer or not in signs, I took this grasshopper as a symbol to not be afraid, and to jump as a means of moving forward, of moving towards my greater self.

Now, as I sit here writing this at the library in Rome, I look back on that decision making process with sheer joy and gratitude of the journey that got me right here. It has only been two weeks, but over the course of them, I have experienced so much already. The staff of the John Felice Rome Center do an amazing job organizing a jam packed schedule of events for the two weeks of orientation that include four course meals, city walking tours, and even a weekend trip down to the south of Italy full of wine and cheese tastings, and historical site adventures. Of course it has been overwhelming with the amount of new people, new places, new sites, new sounds, new food, new everything, but I have enjoyed the moments of sameness that stretches throughout continents, and cultures.

Most of us get stuck in traffic. Most of get caught up at the grocery store deciding which cookies to buy. Most of us run late to work on a Monday. Most of us get irritated when the bus does not come on time. Most of us love the smell of homemade food. Most of us love the comforts of people who love us as much as we do them. As human beings, most of us just want the same things. We all want to be seen, heard, recognized, and loved. A traditional, and universal message I have already found in the short two weeks I have been here. We are all trying to figure it out. We are all trying to make our way. Rome you have already taught me so much and I cannot wait to see what is next.