Porque?
Last week, in an effort to make us practice our speech/comprehension/verb conjugations, my Portuguese teacher was asking us random questions about our likes and dislikes, our dreams, and the choices we would make (conditional tense) in hypothetical situations (the subjunctive tense). One question was about our favorite movies and books. While neither is easy to answer, I do have a go-to favorite movie, Pulp Fiction. My favorite book was more difficult to name. I ended up going with a favorite author, Mitch Albom. Every one of his books has made me consider what’s important in life (and also cry). He’s a pretty profound guy- it’s easy to forget that he was/is a sports writer. However, I still was not able to put my finger on a single favorite book.
That is, until just now. I’m currently working on a scholarship essay that will hopefully lead to some extra funds to cover some of my study abroad costs. Anyway, the application asks why I am studying abroad. I doubt that the scholarship committee would like the simple answers of “I’m an IR major,” “well, I’ve just always planned to study abroad,” or “I’d like to be able to speak Portuguese.” So, I was forced to consider why, exactly, I’ve planned a career (somehow) involving international relations, why I’ve had an urge to move so far away from everything and everyone I know, away from a familiar culture and the only language I’m fluent in.
Well, from what I can pin down, the (somewhat abridged version of the) progression goes like this:
Sometime, during elementary school, I decided I was going to Harvard. What is Harvard known for? Law School. I was going to be a lawyer when I grew up. As an over-achieving eighth grader, I went to a college fair. I found out that “pre-law” is not usually accepted as a major, but a lot of people on pre-law tracks major in Political Science. Politics is cool- basically I was interested at this point in my life because I wanted to be a liberal (I am SO not a leftist though). When I applied to Governor’s School during my junior year, the program that most closely matched my interests was the School for International Studies. So, I applied to colleges as an IR major and I haven’t (really) looked back. (I don’t plan to apply to law school anymore, though.)
Not so captivating. So, when I really consider my motivations for wanting to be involved in a culture other than my own, the reason why I didn’t change my major to astrophysics after I took that astronomy class, I come to a couple of more-convincing conclusions. First, the “where were you” moment from my lifetime was September 11, 2001. Since then, it seems like our country has become inalterably involved in foreign affairs. The Middle East was no longer “over there.” Now, it was in our living rooms. The isolationism of the past did not seem like it would be a viable option ever again. Yet, the area where I grew up still seemed pretty isolated. I think that just about everyone has CNN available in their home, yet so many people had no idea that there was a difference between Iraq and Afghanistan. It seemed like all that some people got out of the news was an intense hatred for those who practiced Islam (and they were sure that everyone in that region did). I saw it among my classmates, who did not hear any of my arguments against “bombing them all.” I wanted to make a difference in people’s perceptions of the rest of the world and in the nature of the foreign relations of the U.S.
That explains why I’m passionate about IR, but why do I have “a burning desire to go, to move, to get under way, anyplace, away from Here,” other than the fact that it improves my chances of getting a job someday (a day that is actually approaching way too quickly)? John Steinbeck made me do it. I’ve read Travels with Charley twice now, and it was not any easier to put down the second time through. I’ve become one of those people who can easily fall asleep while reading, but not with this book. I don’t know if it’s just that I agree with everything that Steinbeck has to say, or that his recounting of his travels made me want to have my own adventures, but I absolutely LOVE this book. “A trip, a safari, an exploration, is an entity, different from all other journeys. It has personality, temperament, individuality, uniqueness. A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike.” Why wouldn’t you want your own? And that’s how I got to Sampa:



