Whats in a Name?

Today was my last full day in Jacksonville until next year.

Now when you look at that, it looks so dramatic and far away. The reality is, of course, its just four months, and then I will be back to swooping around the nest. But right now as I lay here on the couch that has become my second home, listening to the rain and the sound of my host-moms keyboard, 4 months seems like such a long time. I wonder how much will change in those months? On one hand its hardly enough time to be missed, and on the other its far too long to keep things the same. Time ticks along, and when the clock hits New Years nothing will be "the same." Which isnt a bad thing, just how it is.

So the past few days when I have been saying my see-you-laters, my constant reassurance to my loved ones in Jax has been "I'll be home before you know it!" And more often than not the response I get is "Home here or home Pensacola?" and then I turn around and check Facebook and my friends in Jordan are asking "Are you coming home while you're abroad??" and of course there is the text I sent my mom, "I'll be home tomorrow! Love you!" Home. A word that I use to describe more than one area, in more than one way, at any given moment. Home. And it really got me thinking- what is home? Why is it that I use the word so loosely and what does it really mean to me? Well i've been mulling it over for a few days, and I think I have finally come up with an answer. Bear in mind this is my own personal opinion, although some of you out there may identify with my reasoning. So lets take a dive in to the way my life works and figure out how I can come home.

There are a million and ten perfectly acceptable definitions for the word "home". Its your permanent place of residence, where your family is, where you were born. Well none of those work for me, because I dont reside permanently anywhere, my family is spread out all across the US (although family is another matter entirely, because I have my blood relatives, the people who helped raise and influence me, and friends that have transcended the regular bond and are now a part of what I would definitely call family. But thats another story for another day.) and I only lived in my country of birth for about a month. So while those may work for some people, they just dont cut it in my mind. Another common definition is home is where you're heart is. Well if thats the case, I am in serious trouble. My poor heart has been spread out in so many directions- obviously huge chunks of it belong in Pensacola, Amman, and Jacksonville. But there are also pieces in Washington D.C, Alabama, Palestine, and other places that captured my attention and stole a piece of my affection. Places I love, full of people I love, and would return to in a heartbeat. I'm fairly certain Morocco is going to end up on that list as well, so theres another piece to consider. Growing up my parents have always said "home is where your toothbrush is" and while in the past that has been the most accurate, more and more it just doesnt quite fit. Sure my toothbrush goes pretty much everywhere with me, but I have no personal attachment to it. I throw them away without a second thought, and what would that say about "home?" No no, still not really it. There are many more definitions and ideas out there but as i'm sure you're getting bored with reading this (its late and I'm probably rambling) i'll cut to the chase.

To me, home is wherever you are. And I dont  mean you my reader (although your presence, physically and otherwise, is important to me) I mean that wherever in the world you may be, that is home. Because the sense of happiness, security, peace, anxiety, fear or hope you go to sleep with is what wakes you up the next day, and what constantly reminds you of what you're working for. From the hills of Amman to the sandy beaches of Pensacola, to me home is where I am at any given moment. Walking around Disney world with my best friend. Star gazing with an astronomy class. Running across campus in the rain, barefoot and cold. Home is more than just a building or location, or tie to your birthplace (Even though I totally love claiming my African roots). To me, its a very real and very personal feeling. Home is where I am happy, and where I am happy is wherever life has me.

So when I say I will be home, I mean that I will be back. Its one semester (which does seem like a lifetime) and even though I will find home in Ifrane, I do plan on returning to the nest that encouraged me to spread my wings and fly. So its bittersweet that wrap this up, and fly out tomorrow towards a new and strange destination. To all my loves in the States (especially my UNFers) I will be home soon. To all my loves outside the States, I'm coming home!

If you get lost, you can always be found. Just know you're not alone,

Cause I'm gonna make this place your home.

Hurry Up and Wait

So this is kind of a timeline of how I went from planning to study in Cairo to studying in Ifrane.

August 2011. I have known since I first started University that I was going to study abroad at some point in my collegiate career. I grew up overseas and my passion is for people, so the challenge of spending a semester in some remote corner of the world with new people was something I accepted as inevitable. Its also required for my major, so that doesn’t hurt. I talked to my parents about it, and after showing them my course progress and outlining my reasons, we agreed that the Fall of 2013 would be the ideal time for the study abroad. 

November 2012. When I sat down to figure out where in the world I wanted to go, I had two requirements for a country: it had to be Arabic-speaking, and it had to have a significant amount of history that I could immerse myself in while there. Naturally, I went straight to the Middle Eastern countries and parked myself in front of the map. While doing research and trying to figure out what kind of classes I wanted to take and how finances would work, every answer kept bringing me back to Jordan. I had mixed emotions about that- on one hand, the chance to experience the country where I grew up as an adult would be amazing and enlightening. On the other hand, I already had a thorough knowledge of the language, history and culture, so it wouldn't present any kind of new challenge. But since my options were limited (the Middle East isn't exactly the most stable area in the world, and SA programs are not cheap in most of the countries) I came up with a plan and went to see the International adviser at UNF.

I met with him on January 15^th of this year; I remember the date because it was my birthday. I had the day off of work and nothing to do until my night class, so I spent the morning looking at pictures of Jordan and daydreaming about what it would be like to study there. When the meeting time rolled around, I waltzed into my advisors office and laid out my plan. Every detail was provided, every question answered. I was READY. And then he came at me out of left field: “Jordan is a great choice, but have you looked anywhere else? I’ve been in contact with one of your professors, and she thinks you should look at going to Egypt.”

…..

Excuse me?

Of course, Egypt had been on my list, for about thirty seconds. Not only did I not think the university was sending people there, but it was right after a major revolution and I didn’t know anything about the stability or safety issues. I had no friends there, no knowledge of what it would take to get there, nothing. And yet… I did grow up watching Egyptian television, so I knew the language. Like any good history buff I have studied Egyptology, and am fascinated with the extensive history and beautiful architecture. And it was right across the sea form Jordan. So, being the Barlow that I am, I nodded my head and said “Sure.” We talked a little bit more about it and he gave me answers and options. I left the meeting feeling confused- what just happened to my master plan? So I did the only sensible thing I could do: called my parents. And they (of course) said go for it. And just like that the track was set for Egypt. I applied to the American University of Cairo, and was accepted on May 3^rd. Dad bought the ticket, I registered for housing and chose my classes, and started buying lightweight clothes to prepare for the weather. Everything was moving along swimmingly, and I was getting more and more excited about leaving. As a child who dreams of working for the government someday the chance to study a revolution up close and to build a network in a nation that increasingly proves important to ours was mind boggling. My heart began to fall in love with the Egyptian people, and every day was just one step closer to seeing those historic pyramids.

June 30^th, 2013. The second Egyptian revolution. Millions of people took to the streets, calling for the same change they had asked for a short year before. The world held its breath, and I continued to consume my Chick Fil A chicken nuggets. I wasn’t worried- the plan was in motion, and I knew in my heart that I was called to go this fall. So I spent my week lollygagging and eating apple pie

July 8^th.. I went home to spend the week of the 8^th-12^th with my Mom, and on that Monday I got an email from UNF. I was informed that the State Department had moved Egypt from the travel warning to the travel ban list, effectively forbidding me from going anywhere near there. Of course, the split second it took me to read that email was one of the darkest I’ve had. I was confused, upset, and totally freaked out because I had absolutely no Plan B. Yes I had embraced from the beginning that it could happen, but I never gave any serious thought to what I would do if it did. So the world was ending, hell had frozen over and I was going absolutely nowhere in life. Again, I did the only sensible thing I could do. I called my mom. I was in tears, reading her the email and trying to accept that everything was over. But my mom is so much smarter than that. She listened to me go on for about five minutes then said “Anna, honey, have you looked at going anywhere else?”

Again, What?? Had I stopped to consider that there was still time to apply to another school? No. Had I even explored what schools UNF had partnerships with and what it might take to get to one of those? Of course not. I was too busy bemoaning the end of the world. And my mom, ever patient with my dramatics, encouraged me to just look. The worst that could happen was I may have to delay a semester, but she never believed that would happen for a second because she also felt that I was called to go this fall. She calmed me down quickly, and left me to figure out if there was time for a Plan B. When checking out other partner schools, I ended up with three country possibilities: The UK, Denmark, and Morocco. All exciting, all new, and all suitable backup plan. So I emailed the schools, praying that it would be clear which door I could walk through and that the clarity would come quickly. I received an answer from Al-Akhawayn University the very same day, encouraging me to apply and outlining the steps for doing so. Then I heard from the schools in Denmark and the UK- it was too late for fall, but I was welcome to apply for spring. So that settled that! I filled out the application for AUI, crossed my fingers and sat back to wait.

July 24^th. Fast forward two weeks. I received my official acceptance letter from AUI on July 23^rd, along with the housing request, travel info and course options. My dad shopped around and managed to book my flight, and mom bought me some heavy-duty clothes to prepare for the bitter winter that awaits me. In the span of two weeks the last six months of planning, waiting and preparing have come undone and I am now anxiously awaiting my departure for Ifrane, Morocco on August 21^st.

Anyone who has spoken to me in the last few months knows how excited I was about Egypt. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Mystique, history, delicious food, a sense of danger, and the chance to watch political change firsthand. That’s awesome, and the dream of any 20-year-old who is out to change the world. But what would I really have been facing? 4 months of my friends and family worrying constantly. Having to live pretty confined to the campus, because waltzing around Cairo as a young, white female just isn’t a smart decision. Living with 3 people I’ve never met, taking generalized classes, and basically just returning to a culture that has been a part of me my entire life. It would have been amazing no doubt, but almost more of a “look what I get to do!” trip rather than a real life-changing semester that impacts my future by way of my goals and career. In Morocco, I am entering an entirely unknown culture and area of the world. I have little to no exposure to the history of North Africa, and the dialect of Arabic spoken there is very different from the one I grew up with. I will get to practice my French as well, and take very specific classes that fit perfectly into my degree needs. Morocco is one of the oldest nations in Africa with one of the most diverse histories, and the culture shock idea is both daunting and exciting. So this semester is no longer getting back to what I know, but stepping outside of my comfort zone and really embracing a new challenge.

Long story short, July 28^th 2013. In four days I am heading home for a few weeks, then packing my bags and leaving on a jet plane. I’m not going where I was expecting to, but I am going where I need to be. The whole process of getting here has been crazy, but very rewarding. I’m learning to trust, relax, and realize that my plans pale in comparison to what God has designed. 

And that is the story of the climb to studying abroad. The next three weeks will be preparation for the journey, and from there, the real journey begins.

The Prologue

It is kind of awkward for me to be sitting here attempting to figure out how to start this blog. I have a ton of ideas running through my head: I could detail the events of my life up to now beginning with my birth and ending with my job at Chick Fil A (affectionately known as the Chicken House). I could give you bullet points of my likes and dislikes, starting with my love for Disney and ending with my fear of sunflowers. I could quote obscure famous dead people in an attempt to seem super mysterious and alluring. But instead, I'm just going to talk to you like I would if we were sitting face to face. Hello! My name is Anna and I really love to travel. I have never attempted to chronicle (I love that word) my experiences- I live life on the fly, embracing whatever happens and changing my mind every fifteen minutes. So sitting down with the knowledge that I'm about to commit to five months of very specific writing on a regular basis is a challenge. If you know me then I'm glad you are reading this, and if you don't then I hope I can (at the very least) bring some kind of smile to your face with the wild antics of my young life.

Basically, over the next five months, I will be attempting to journal through my study abroad experience. I will be moving to Ifrane, Morocco, to study for 4 months, and hope to have all kinds of adventures between now and when I get back. I cant promise there will be any rhyme or reason to anything said in these pages. A lot of my posts will probably be about trifle encounters, or gushing recollections of events that may mean absolutely nothing to you or even matter in the grand scheme of things. For example, you can expect an extremely detailed play-by-play of my first time going to Rick's Cafe American (which, if you haven't seen the movie Casablanca, means nothing to you already). Some may be overly serious and contemplative, and I'll probably attempt to reinvent the wheel at least once with some earth shattering realization.  My words may not matter to many people and my biases, self-centered hilarity and painfully lame jokes with definitely come through. But my commitment to seeing this whole blog through is important to me, and I am doing it so I will have something to reflect on when I get back, in an attempt to see how much changes in the upcoming months. And because I don't want to spam Facebook with ridiculous novels that would annoy people by clogging up their news-feeds.

What I am most excited about is neatly summed up in the word "opportunity" (a word that I will be using freely in probably every single one of my posts). The opportunity to go, the opportunity to write, to learn, to experience, and the challenge of staying committed to updating this little mini-saga. The choosing of Morocco is a tale in and of itself, and will be the topic of my next blog. But for now, welcome to The International Swoop!

Cliche selfie, just in case you dont know who you'll be following the next few months.