With 18 cents left in my bank account, aching calves, and eyes currently in a fight against gravity, I lay content in my bed. As I wrap up my seven-day adventure abroad in Greece, I reflect fondly on my experiences in a foreign country and the privilege of seeing a different part of the world with my roommates. I think about the steaming gyros we devoured for dinner, the patient taxi driver who spent an additional 30 minutes routing us to the proper location, and the kind people who shared their stories and questions about our backgrounds.
Every October, I spend my fall break going home or seeing friends. To wrap up my senior year, one of my roommates and I decided to fly to Greece to visit our other roommate, who is currently studying abroad. While fall break isn’t an exclusively Princeton tradition, I nonetheless find myself feeling grateful for 1) the brief reprieve from classes and 2) the elongated period of time to cosplay as anything other than a student.
This year, my fall break was spent parading around the city of Athens, as well as the islands of Paros and Naxos. While it wasn't my first time in Greece, this trip felt different. Perhaps it was the looming sense of doom that graduation inspires or the post-grad anxiety about wondering if I did college “right.” More probably, it was the excessive amounts of freddo cappuccino I devoured (and the subsequent sugar spikes they induced). Nonetheless, something about this trip felt special — it was the people.
Throughout our travels, my roommate and I met many local Greek individuals — at the airport, the flea market stalls, and even in taxis. Each time, I found the locals eagerly asking questions that possessed an element of youthful curiosity. They asked where we were from, what the temperature was like back home, and other questions we would probably classify as “small talk.” But on the off chance the conversation deviated elsewhere, we learned a lot about these strangers as well.
We learned about how Greece’s crippling economy makes it difficult for locals to find jobs and how often the native islanders leave their homes for work on the mainland. We learned about the importance of pistachios and olives to the economies of native Greek farmers (we learned that virgin olive oil is basically a scam!!!), And, of course, we learned plenty of local Greek recipes, dances, and traditions. But perhaps most importantly, we learned a lot about the resilience of people and the intrinsic optimism within humans that seems to persist.
Traveling to Greece gave me a certain wanderlust that not only made me nostalgic, but appreciative of going where my feet lead me (or, where Expedia’s budget section takes me). It took me back to my early days at Princeton, where I not only had to transport my whole life elsewhere, but also adjust to living in an unfamiliar place with strangers as well. It also reminded me of the same youthful curiosity that my peers and I shared as we formally introduced ourselves. Indeed, as I near the end of my Princeton career, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to leave this place behind. But perhaps leaving doesn’t necessarily have to be a sad experience — maybe it means carrying pieces of my experience at Princeton forward: taking the art of small talk to new places, the spirit of curiosity to new communities, and the warmth of making new experiences.