Introspection, hopes, fears, anxiety, and thoughts on the act of bidding farewell

Is there a freedom in being footloose? What does nomadism teach us, if anything? Can these lessons be quantified whatsoever? In traveling, we leave behind comforts, friends, stabilization, time, tools, space, love in search of something far less tangible, the unknown and the knowledge that comes with it. Is this knowledge truly liberating, and if so, is it worth leaving behind these comforts and facing something far less certain? It begs the question of whether we, as humans, are meant for a life of constant movement from place to place, always uprooted and in search of something, the intangible, impalpable, that which cannot be defined and that of whose existence we question and worry over tirelessly and without end. Does travel teach us anything? Do we return to our previous life and its occupants with a greater knowledge of the world around us that empowers and liberates? Or, instead, do we crawl back to a world unknown, learning the painful lesson that every physical place tilts and spins like a whirlpool through time, ever changing as people and events get sucked into the powerful undertow and pulled away from us. Is what we risk even worth it? What does it bring us?

Engaging in service learning inevitably feels good, as many people, in response to your future plans, immediately laud your selflessness and charitable wishes. This fuzzy feeling quickly fades in the face of hard and impenetrable logic used against the essential reasoning behind our actions. In engaging in such a field, we spurn much that is held dear to those we love, putting an idea before these individuals. We neglect not only the comforts of life at home, but the love of family and friends in the name of an idea, and a vague one at that. One of charity and goodwill in a world that seems to be turning increasingly towards the worst. Yet, this is merely an idea; whether our efforts are credited or even realized by those to whom they are aimed is uncertain at best. Furthermore, these individuals are not known to us at all; we must look in the eyes of those we love and unequivocally confirm that we are putting a group of people heretofore unknown to us before them. Daunting, to say the least.

Service learning is a bit selfish in some ways. We realize the need to learn, and this knowledge is accelerated in the face of (personal) realizations of the failings that our universities often exhibit. Yet the learning we now seek is less than structured. We prepare ourselves for the void; no semesters, no homework, no grades, no professors. Our conscious is our advisor, the streets of various cities our classroom, and our journal a replacement for classmates, filling the great need for critical feedback. This type of learning requires a knack for unflinching and even painful retrospection; the ability to look into the past, at our own personal actions, and realize that we made mistakes, stumbled, even fell in our attempts. Yet, this act of retrospection fits into the overarching philosophy of such a mission, that neglecting comforts and looking deeper yields greater returns. This retrospection leads to rebirth, a shedding of old values that we suddenly find irrelevant, or worse, inhibitory. Our consciousness expands, and just like a snake shedding its skin, we must leave behind pieces of ourself with which we once defined ourselves with. Growing pains are called thus for an excellent reason, and painful as they may be, they will serve as milestones in our personal journeys. We will laugh and smile, cry and scream, feel lonely, abandoned, lost, ecstatic, complete, different, troubled, blissful, tranquil yet through it all we will emerge stronger.

We engage in an experience that is inherently transformative. The reason for funding and engagement in such an experience is based on this aspect. We are expected and expect of ourselves to grow upwards and outwards from this into stronger individuals. Yet, despite the apparently ubiquitousness of this knowledge, the unending question that I confront is, “What happens after Cambodia?”. Personally, this is the most frightening aspect of the journey. I understand the trials that I will face abroad and I will face these head-on, throwing myself forth to experience and learn. Coming home is the real challenge to me. I’ve entertained a number of ideas for what comes after this, however, if the true reason for engaging in this program is to become transformed, how can we anticipate where our personal compasses will direct us after its all finished? I’ve made vain, half hearted attempts in gauging my own anticipation, yet these attempts, like all others I’ve made in the past to plan the next several decades of my life, have interminably failed.

This problem faces anyone who desires to plan long term, however this issue is exacerbated by the transformative natures of such a program. How can one know what they will want in a month, a year, five years? Moreover, how can we foresee these desires when we engage in a program that is designed to rattle and change every aspect of our being? Is planning for life after Cambodia useful or an exercise in futility, going against the very nature of the program? Is a period of retrospection and thought required at the terminus of this program, with which we will plan our next movements? Do we need to live only in the present to take full advantage of such a program, without regard for the distant future? I’m not entirely sure what the answer to these questions are.

Regardless of whether or not I can or need to suspend long term planning, I got into this program for a strong belief that lies deep within me. I want to experience what this world of ours has to offer, to throw myself into the heart of these troubled areas and act not only as a helping hand but an ambassador, and if nothing else, leave behind the knowledge that there are people in this world that care. Even if every program I create and pursue, every attempt at education invariably fails, if I succeed in creating this awareness in the minds of others, I would consider my time abroad a success.

Any thoughts, concerns, comments or advice, either publicly or privately, is always greatly encouraged. It is my wish and hope that this space will become a forum for ideas. And please, no matter what, don’t be afraid to be critical of any of my actions, words or beliefs. I welcome such criticism whole heartedly.

Also, in case you’re not aware, there are seven spectacular individuals tackling similar missions across the globe.

Jon Hill will be joining me in Cambodia, working for the Global Child School. Check out his blog here:
http://ublog.union.edu/hillj/


Lara Levine is already on the ground in Cape Town, South Africa:
http://ublog.union.edu/levinel/

Steve Po-Chedley and Rebecca Broadwin will be working for the health clinic Engeye in rural Uganda:
http://pochedley.blogspot.com/
http://ublog.union.edu/broadwir/

Alex Butts and Emily Laing will be working in Mumbai, India. Check them out here:
http://ublog.union.edu/lainge/
http://ublog.union.edu/buttsa/

Last but certainly not least, Dave Shulman will be working for a health clinic in Malawi:
http://ublog.union.edu/shulmand/

One last thing; Jon and I are working for a truly fantastic organization in Siem Reap, Cambodia, called the Global Child School. You'll hear more about them from me undoubtedly, but check out their website for some background information on the school and the kids that attend: http://www.theglobalchild.org/

Until next time!
-Robbie