In Indonesia I found it in an air conditioned coffee shop while it was raining, I turned to my friend and said 'If you pretend it's cold outside it kind of feels like home.' We both laughed at the idea of missing cold rain but none the less found some twisted comfort in it.
In the Czech Republic it happened when I walked in to a hockey arena. The smell of sweaty hockey players mixed with the cold, the puck hitting the boards, the sticks and the skates cutting in to the ice. This felt like home. If it wasn't for the fact that they strictly played songs that were popular at least a decade ago and made announcements in a language I couldn't understand, it really could have been home.
But for the first time I didn't need someone to translate for me. I could watch the ref making crazy hand gestures and understand, I didn't need anyone and it was like being given my independence back.
The thing is about travelling on your own, is that while you have to be independent to do so you also have to have a certain level of dependence on others. Whether it be trusting the information they give you, following advice on directions or simply trying to communicate with others. When your language and their language aren't the same there is a certain loss of independence required of you.
A prime example of this happened to me last year when I woke up with one of my eyes stuck closed. Something I hadn't realized could happen until then. Eventually slightly creeped out and still disoriented from sleep I walked to the bathroom pirate style, one eye closed against my will to check out the offending eye. With a hot facecloth I washed my face and discovered I looked like a stoned demon. Definitely not my best look.
I did a quick assessment of the situation: eye doesn't hurt (that must be a good sign, right?), look evil (though may be useful), other eye looks normal. Can't be anything too exciting, I decided and headed to work. Makeup seemed like a bad idea, an appealing one, but a bad one no less, so I pulled on a hat and kept my head down, trying not to freak out the other people on the bus.
When I got to work I quickly cornered Lisa.
'Look at my eye!!! How freaky is it? Is it super noticeable?' Apparently more concerned with the vanity of the situation than any possible ramifications.
'Um, it's pretty bad.' She said diplomatically. In all honesty, I looked like I had been up on a 5 day killing spree.
'What do you think it is??' 5 years my senior, I expect Lisa to have answers to all my questions like a child asking an adult. I figured I may have rubbed something in it while I was sleeping, but she looked at me and replied thoughtfully,
'Well, it may be conjunctivitis.'
I paused not knowing what that meant. Something about things ending in -itis sounds so serious. Like Gingivitis and all those pictures they use to scare you at the dentist, as if you forget to brush your teeth one night before bed and an army of bacteria will march through your mouth pillaging what they can beyond recognition. I have seen homeless people with better teeth than they display in some of those photos.
'What the shit is conjunctivitis?!' I asked.
'Um, it's nothing really. Just an eye infection.' Well that much was clear, but then it dawned on me.
'Wait. What? Like pink eye??? I have PINK EYE? How did I get it?' I asked, assigning her as my temporary doctor.
'I don't know much about it to be honest. Why don't you just see how it is at lunch.' I nodded and briefly considered making an eye patch but didn't have enough time.
When I walked in to my classroom a hush fell across the room and two of my kids just stood there staring at me, mouths gaping open. Well whatever it was, it was definitely a valuable intimidation tool with the kids, I thought with pleasure.
I wasn't able to exercise this newly found skill for long, as news of my demon eye quickly spread to my boss who rushed me off to an eye doctor, where they shone bright lights in my eyes and then announced in Czech that something was wrong with me.
Now see here's the fun thing with ESL: unless they are studying to be a doctor, people rarely know ailments, they can tell you about their weekend and their favourite food but ask them why you woke up looking like you are among the living dead and they will talk amongst themselves and turn to you with an apologetic shrug.
It was decided that whatever was wrong with me was enough to send me home for bed rest for the remainder of the week. So i took the medicine that was given to me and sat around googling my condition, which after some research I identified as Pink Eye brought on by a child sneezing on my face the day before. Yum.
So if you are looking for a bit of independence when you are abroad watch sports and if you are looking to feel totally helpless go to the doctor.
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