I was explicitly encouraged to zone out during my classes last semester. It’s unreasonable to expect attention from a student when they have the option to gaze out the window at an actual castle.
I spent five months this year in Prague, Czechia. I learned about history while living on the streets where it took place. Every day, I walked through avenues that had witnessed centuries of revolutions and occupations. For the first time as a student, history wasn’t just in a textbook or a museum — it was under my feet and all around me, all the time. San Antonio holds its own layered history, but Prague made it feel inescapable, like it was breathing down every alleyway and under every cobblestone.
Those same streets had once been filled with student protestors who liberated the country from both fascism and communism exactly fifty years apart. I studied at Charles University, located beside Jan Palach Square, linked to the courage and sacrifice of those who stood against oppression. I’m still in disbelief that I spent my time amongst books that are older than the United States itself.
Some people are hesitant to study abroad because of the language barrier. Perhaps confusingly, I loved it. Communication is my strongest skill, and being deprived of it was hard at first, but it ended up heightening my other senses tenfold. Even simple interactions, like asking for directions or navigating public transportation, became exercises in creativity, patience and empathy. A language barrier forces you to engage fully with your surroundings, to be alert and to ask questions.
That being said, I wasn’t completely helpless — after all, I picked up about ten Czech words while interning at a local think tank. In America, speaking my native language with my family often earned us sideways glances and subtle disapproval; in Prague, strangers went out of their way to make me feel welcomed and included. I recall a colleague apologizing to me, for speaking in her own native language, when I looked particularly left out during a work event.
At Trinity, being alone can feel like you’re missing out, but abroad, I felt like I was always where I was supposed to be. I could go to a hilltop and paint the scenery, or ride a random tram with no particular destination. There was less pressure to perform, no need to constantly talk. There was only the quiet thrill of existing in a place that didn’t know me. Being alone didn’t feel isolating, even though I really thought it would; it felt liberating. It taught me to trust my instincts, feel comfortable by myself and truly enjoy my own company.
Leaving was ridiculously difficult; I wore an ‘I love Prague’ shirt to the airport on the way out and sobbed on the flight home. I’ll miss the friends I’ll never forget, the teachers whose intelligence astounded me and Czechia’s unfathomable beauty. I’ll miss losing my way on Prague’s cobblestone streets but never truly being lost.
Ultimately, studying abroad physically changed me. I’m less maximalist now because I almost broke my back carrying up two massive suitcases up four flights of stairs. I’m more spontaneous because an ordinary weekend could end in a brand new country. Most importantly, I see the world as both bigger and smaller at the same time: Bigger because I know how much there is to explore around every corner, smaller because I learned how interconnected our histories are across the globe and right next to each other. Prague challenged me more than the Trinity bubble ever could. And it left me asking myself, “How lucky am I to know my way around?”
Trinity has an excellent study abroad program. We have advisors who know the importance of intercultural communication and development, who help with everything from choosing the right program to figuring out housing. When I was nervous about taking a gap on my résumé, they helped me find a program with a built-in internship opportunity. When I was nervous about costs, they helped me find scholarships and assured me that I wouldn’t pay more abroad than at Trinity. They helped me focus on living in another country, on being truly alone, without ever worrying that I screwed something up.
The best thing you can do at Trinity is leave. Not to run away, but to discover so much more than a classroom can ever teach you. Get out, and go experience the world beyond photos on a slideshow or in a history book. Experience it by walking cobblestone streets and getting lost in a city that’s not your own. No lecture, textbook or Zoom call can ever replace the lessons that being truly alone will teach you.
