A traveler? What is that? Who is that?
Well I asked the same question. A few months ago, I never thought that word could be used to describe me. I remember watching vlogs on YouTube of people backpacking across Europe, reading travel blogs with extravagant photos, and looking up beloved cities on Instagram Places envying anyone who could broaden their horizons and see shores I’ve never seen. I would post pictures of places I wanted to see and caption them with doubtful words like, “really wanting to go on an adventure, but when you’re a full-time college student/work, u no have life,” a direct quote from one of my many Instagram photos.
Until one day I got a student e-mail about a study abroad program in Italy. I almost deleted the e-mail because the amount of college mail you get as an Armstrong student is absurd, but something told me to read it. At the very bottom was a flyer to study abroad in Siena. Some of the classes looked like ones I could take, and I decided to go to the informational meeting. Once I got there, I told myself: I am going to Italy. At the time, I didn’t know how, but I knew I would do it. I was determined and whenever someone would ask about what classes I was taking Spring semester, I automatically told them where I was going: Italy, Europe, the promised land of pizza (vegan of course), art, and beautiful landscapes.
Soon enough, I brought it up to my family and they supported me. I began to put my dream out there and it became a reality- you will hear me talk about the Law of Attraction a lot; but it’s true. I really manifested this opportunity. When I started to worry about finances, the next thing you know – I won a scholarship that I had applied for in the summer. I was beginning to feel confident and knew this plan could work. Language is powerful, and when you tell yourself you’re going to do something, and you believe it, nothing can hold you back. Everything seemed to work itself out, even though “traveler’s” anxiety will try to tell you otherwise (I totally made that term up, but that’s what it felt like).
The big day came: the day I would have to pack for FOUR MONTHS. Pack four months’ worth of my stuff? ME? The girl who even overpacked for one night that I stayed at a friend’s? Packing was even more scary to me than a plane. I am a very organized person; I must make sure I have everything I need. Determined me made 2 lists and cleared my entire living room to stack clothes, makeup, toiletries, shoes, anything my brain could think of- even a white and blue striped shirt because you can’t go to Venice on a gondola without one, right? Stereotypical traveler? Checkmark. Pair it with MAC Ruby Woo? Checkmark again.
Everyone kept asking me “aren’t you excited?” And you think you would be, which I was up until that moment. It is an unexplainable traveler’s feeling: right before you’re about to embark on a journey of a lifetime and you are feeling a blend of excitement, nervousness, overthinking, adrenaline, and gush, just gush.
At the airport, my truest of friends and family came to bid me farewell- one of them rushing to the airport with my Anastasia Dipbrow in Blonde, because there was no way I was leaving to Italy without it. Yes, now that is a true friend. As I hugged my lovely grandparents and finally reached my wide-eyed mother- tears streamed down my face. The people who supported me and loved me the most would be completely and totally on the opposite side of the world, on a different continent. I didn’t want to ruin my makeup that I did specially to last me the entire trip to Italy in case on the plane I would meet a beautiful Italian man (which did not happen btw); so I blotted my tears and waived the grand old states goodbye.
Now I am going to skip forward past my airport experience that consisted of a layover in Boston, running to a plane in Portugal, plane sickness, the airline losing my luggage, staying on an American base in Vicenza which made me feel like I was still in America, running up 50 stairs in Venice with a heavy suitcase, and trying to understand Italian while getting directed to taking 3 different trains to Siena. It was simply too much and overwhelming, but when I stepped foot in the Piazza del Campo for the first time with my classmates, all my worries washed away and I realized I had hit shore. 
The shore I had fantasized about landing on so many months before. I had gone on an adventure. I had flown thousands of miles away from my home. I had done what I was dreaming of when I was procrastinating homework and watching travel vlogs. In a place containing so much history, I was writing the history of myself and of my life: the true memories I would remember; not losing my luggage or packing a million highlighters, but seeing the huge Piazza tower for the first time, eating real Italian pizza for the first time, and feeling new for the first time on a new shore.
So…what is a traveler you might ask? I am a traveler. I am someone who has given up things to experience more. I am someone whose dreams have become a reality. I am someone who has used Google Translate a few too many times. I am someone who was brave enough to venture into a world I’ve never seen. I am someone who wants to live different lives, meet different souls, and see different places. There is an Italian word that doesn’t exactly translate in English, Magari. It means If Only or I Wish. My Magari, or desire for travel came true. I am Crystal and I am a traveler. Ciao!
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