(LibrarianLisa, turning 20 in Sevilla, Spain)
I am a perpetual sufferer of wanderlust. At age 32, my fondest memories are of the few extended stays I’ve been afforded in overseas countries – the aforementioned summer spent studying in Salamanca, Spain between my sophomore and junior years of college and the 4 ½ weeks spent in the state of Parana in 2006 on a professional exchange, each week with a different host family, soaking up the fiery culture of Brazil. And then there are the fantastic travel memories of 10 days spent in Italy after finishing grad school, a couple weeks in France with expat friends, quick trips to Toronto, and roaming all over Puerto Rico with Hector and Kelly. But I’m in need of a fix. I didn’t get enough. Does one ever really get enough??
Upon returning from Spain in 1996, I decided it was my destiny to go teach English in a foreign country for years on end. I subscribed to Transitions Abroad, I planned out the teaching certification I would need to obtain on the west coast before leaving, and I daydreamed a whole lot. And then I promptly went and fell in love. The stupid, blinding kind of love that one has in their early twenties. And instead of following my expat dreams, I stuck around the boring Midwest to see how the (doomed to fail) love would turn out. And life, of course, took the path it always knew it would, and so here I am now. I’m into my thirties, I own a house, I have a lucrative and secure job, a mountain of debt, and a wonderful boyfriend (not the stupid-early-twenties guy) who is tied to our town for the foreseeable future because of his two young daughters. But wanderlust is calling me. It crept up on me (not so subtly), it took hold, it rooted itself deep down in my soul, and it’s now growing like a weed.
Everywhere I turn I am reminded that, really, I was meant to be living a much more fabulous life abroad. I, in fact, should be one of these women. In the last week wanderlust has leapt up and slapped me in the face repeatedly. First, I finished Sanderson’s book (based on her blog), Petite Anglaise – the tales of a British expat in Paris. Then my coworker went off on a long holiday to the Dominican Republic. I saw Mama Mia last weekend and am now dying to go to Greece. And Louise’s blog has me going ga-ga over Germany.
But I’m stuck. I’ve found myself thinking all week, “How? When?” When could I realistically go spend a few years overseas? Perhaps when I publish that bestselling novel. Or when I win the powerball. And when boyfriend’s girls are in college. And then I ask, “Where?” Do you go back to a place you know and love or try out someplace new? (This is a tough question that I face every time I have enough money to travel.)
And it’s all just a bit utterly depressing.
If you could move overseas, would you want to? Where would you go?
7 Comments
August 4, 2008 at 2:41 am
You could probably guess that my answer to an opportunity to live abroad would be an enthusiastic “yes!” I think I would welcome the opportunity to live anywhere in western Europe and could probably be talked into going a lot of other places as well. My dream would be to have a flat in Paris one day.
August 4, 2008 at 4:11 pm
That would be lovely, wouldn’t it? Wait til you see my next post. Here’s a hint: I’m dripping with jealousy…
August 4, 2008 at 9:16 pm
[...] About Me wanderlust [...]
August 12, 2008 at 4:27 am
Yeah, I’d do it. My story isn’t quite the same, although very similar. I’ve got gobs of debt after graduate school, don’t mind my career but am not passionate about it, and worry about failing to pay the prepaid college plan in which we’ve enrolled my twin 6 year-old sons. And yet I am dying to see more than my 1.5 months in Europe in 1991 afforded me. Cannot figure out quite how to live overseas, but I think about it daily.
August 12, 2008 at 1:15 pm
Kristen,
Sounds like we’re in the same boat!I owe more on my student loans than my house, and I, too, think about living overseas DAILY. Do you have a blog? I’d like to read more about you, but the link provided seems like maybe it’s not quite right??
Lisa
August 13, 2008 at 11:13 am
okay so I’ve just caught up on way too many posts I haven’t read since I saw you! I so share your wanderlust, Lisa. B and I (literally) chose having children over living overseas. We had done the research. We had spent hours pouring over books and programs and language classes. Instead, we went and moved to Bloomington and had Frannie. On purpose, mind you. But we both have pangs of regret from time to time. Where we were headed? San Miguel de Allende, Mexico – check it out. But I will feel like you feel about your best friend if you wind up there and I don’t.
August 13, 2008 at 11:29 am
San Miguel de Allende looks beautiful! Don’t worry – I won’t steal your dream.
It’s so hard to grow up and make adult choices, isn’t it? I know I want a child, and in my reality that definitely does not mesh with pulling up stakes and moving overseas.
Glad to know that pangs of regret are normal and not selfish…