For people travelling or working internationally, there comes an inevitable, surreal moment in which we realize that the end is near, that the experience abroad is drawing to a close. Though it often sneaks up on us, there arrives a time in which we must pack our bags, tie up our loose ends, and say our goodbyes, which somehow remain difficult despite age and numerous other experiences abroad.
Whether I like it or not, I have arrived at this moment. My term with Manna Project officially ends in one week, and I have begun to say my “despedidas” to my coworkers, community, and lifestyle. As many other travelers have surely experienced, I am flooded by warring emotions. On the one hand, I feel “high on life” as they say. I cannot wait to return home with fresh eyes and a wealth of experiences that will help me to view my life in new ways. The year in Sololá has recharged my metaphoric battery, and when I begin my next occupational endeavor and graduate school applications, I know that I will hit the ground running.
On the other hand, I am struck with the realization that never again, will I be able to relive this experience. Never again, will I play with Needy Maria during recess or force a smile as I reluctantly accept the atol offered daily at the school. Never again, will I arise to the same panoramic view of Lake Atitlan’s blue water and looming volcanoes. Never again, will I share a gynecologist’s office-turned-house with the same intelligent and inspiring individuals. I will surely talk (probably over-excessively) about these experiences, but no one at home will truly understand. I fear that the fire ignited by this year will wane, that I will be become comfortable at home, and the experience with Manna Project will seem as though it occurred six years, instead of six weeks ago.
For weeks, I flirted with the idea of extending my position with Manna Project. I also nearly accepted a seemingly ideal position with a Virginia-based NGO, which would have allowed me more time with my family, experience coordinating medical mission trips, and frequent travel to Central America. However, in the end, I declined both options for a principle that I have come to maintain wholeheartedly: namely, the importance of saying goodbye. Continuing with Manna Project would have overly prolongated the process of transitioning to an American lifestyle, whereas the NGO would have denied me any transition and required me to begin work in July.
Though not particularly enjoyable, it is crucial for us to transition from our time abroad, to properly say goodbye to the people, geography, and routines of our past months. Saying goodbye validates our time abroad; goodbyes help us to internalize that the experience actually happened. Thus, we must undergo the process of grieving the end of the experience, laughing at the fond memories, accepting that the time is over, and contemplating our next life steps. Although our exact experiences can never be recreated, they have changed us in ways that can never be erased.
