I spend every single day traveling around the sun. Each solar ray irradiates my living desire, while each cloudy, dark day reminds me of how to treasure the moments we are in our comfort zone. However, it is traveling beyond the yellow shining star that makes my heart beat. There is still much to discover around our planet beyond daily life.
Growing up, I traveled through fiction books. It was my way of living dark days in my comfy world — experiencing light rays in my mind. Throughout the years, I’ve been to Hogwarts, Narnia, Wonderland and many other not-so-fictional places. Exploring those different types of adventurous lives made me think I would be ready to experience a whole month of solo travel in Europe after my senior year of high school. I genuinely thought a Euro trip was going to be easy. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I remember leaving my home in Belgium (yes, I am one of those kids with two international homes), and starting that adventurous journey. Initially, I saw the sunlight flashing into my face through the bus window in the direction of Liege, Belgium. My heart beat deeply. One hour later, I arrived at the first train station. I was still in Belgium and the cold March breeze arrived with me. The train station’s Spanish architecture was not proper for a Belgian morning breeze. I questioned if I should just go home. But I kept thinking about the previous solar rays that had led me to finally go on my first train to Germany.
Soon, I arrived at the point many solo travelers experience: having train tickets, but no seats. I just grabbed my small suitcase and used it as my chair. The sunlight in my mind had obfuscated the whole idea of this being a challenging experience. I kept thinking about the exciting German weekend I was going to experience. The positive thoughts somehow helped me get an actual seat afterward. I will never forget the young mother of two that offered me a seat next to her.
“Next stop, Ostbahnhof train station.”
After a long day, it was finally my arrival station. My hostel was right across the street.
I was excited, and then the next day, I wasn’t. Early on my first day, I cried in my bed. Maybe I wouldn’t have cried if it was a day still full of solar rays. But it was a dark, cloudy day, and I was traveling by myself to a country where I didn’t speak the language. That was not on my “comfy things to do” list. I felt alone. I felt empty and overwhelmed.
After gathering all my energy back in the morning, I visited the East Side Gallery. This brought another hard time: I was forced to learn how to use Germany’s public transportation. I was not ready for that. So I walked. From there to Checkpoint Charlie, I slowly walked 2.5 miles. It might seem like a total waste of time, and maybe it was. I would have thought so too, but along that walk I saw actual Berlin life in hidden small bridges and street art. I continued, and on the way back, I got the courage to use the metro. That dark, cloudy day turned into a sunny day in my heart. No one could see the solar rays but me. Berlin taught me I didn’t depend on the sun to enjoy myself. One year later, I am sure that all I need is to feel lightning rays in my thoughts, just as I did when I was reading all those fictional books.
If it weren’t for that cloudy, dark day, I would not have the courage of crossing the world to attend Stanford. Coming here as an international frosh has been an experience — an interesting one. If it weren’t for that dark day, I wouldn’t have the courage to leave my mom and my life in sunny Brazil. I would have given up. I would not have become addicted to matcha lattes from CoHo, danced in a salsa workshop with a friend, created a box of free snacks with my roomie, experimented with Turkish coffee during late study nights, created friendships while going to brush my teeth, gotten lost with nine friends in San Francisco, sewn my friend’s top to procrastinate or shared French music playlists.
Berlin taught me about balance — that life was composed of challenges that I should overcome at some point. I still remember Berlin during cloudy, overwhelming days at Stanford because I know there will be a pretty sunrise on the next day by Hoover Tower.