“Just wait for Trudy. Believe in Trudy. Trudy will come.”

When I began watching the television series Monk, I didn’t expect to get anything out of it aside for a good way to waste some (maybe a lot) of my downtime over the summer. What I didn’t know, however, is that in watching the show I would put together one of life’s most valuable lessons.

Bare with me as I set me set the stage a little bit.

In this particular scene of the episode, Monk, the main character, is given the task of giving a teenage girl, Julie, some assistance in her boy troubles. There are a lot of awkward situations and the talk is going nowhere at first. However, it takes a turn for the better and some progress is made. The girl asks Monk how he knew it was “right” when he met his wife Trudy, to which he responds with a couple of reasons and this comforting statement: “All your dreams will come true. But they don’t have to come true this weekend, right? You can take your time; you can wait.” Just wait for Trudy. Believe in Trudy. Trudy will come.”

When I first heard this quote I really didn’t think anything of it. Only after a few minutes of pondering on it did the message really soak in. Like in the scenario portrayed by the show, relationship problems are often a hot topic when it comes to rushing into things and waiting. But realistically, you can replace “Trudy” with almost anything in life.

Most people don’t necessarily like waiting for anything, whether it’s for a job opportunity, a relationship that will last, or something as simple as a new car. Why should you have to wait for something when it can happen right now? Well, that’s precisely the lesson. Oftentimes when someone rushes into a particular situation it is done so from the hip and without discerning everything (possible results and problems).

This isn’t to say that every time something happens so quickly something wrong will occur, but anything that is undertaken without the proper knowledge assuredly has a larger chance of having damaging outcomes. This is exactly why Monk references why dreams don’t need to come true in a weekend.

If there is one thing in this world that we are in abundance in, it is time.

Nothing has to be rushed because there is always time to think things over so that the right decision can be made. I’ll be one to admit that it has been an on and off battle to breakthrough into the profession that I hope to one day be a part of. I have spent copious amounts of time trying to develop contacts and get my foot in the door with an organization because I know that getting involved early is better than trying to attack it later.

Sometimes it even gets me down. But one thing I always forget is that I’m only going to be a junior in college and that I still have a couple of years before I become a part of America’s working class. I, along with others that are struggling with this, just have to remember that my time hasn’t come yet and that I will be presented with an opportunity when the time is right. So the next time you notice yourself jumping into a situation without much thought, just wait for Trudy because she will come.

“Sometimes the fastest way isn’t always the best way. Sometimes the best things in life take a while.” –Emily Beth

(Written by Andrea Fernandez)

I went to Brazil in the summer of 2015. Spent a lot of time meeting people and working on my Portuguese. I quickly trusted everyone I met there. The weekend came when I would travel alone to Rio De Janeiro, an idea that very few people encouraged.

I had started reading a book in Portuguese while I was there, Onze Minutos by Paulo Coelho. This book only helped to reinforce the fear everybody was causing me to feel about traveling to Rio alone. I started to feel like I could relate to the protagonist of the book. She was a naive young girl who was so excited to travel to Rio. She let what she thought was love and romance change her life and eventually she went with a man to Switzerland to become an exotic dancer.

I was starting to feel so anxious, I did not want to be scared, but a lonely and desperate feeling started to sneak up on me.

I could not decide if it was something telling me not to go, or if it was pushing me to go for an adventure. On my way to the airport in Belo Horizonte I started telling the taxi driver about where I was headed, and the first thing he said was “sozinha (alone)?!” He went on to explain that Rio is super dangerous; that people got stabbed and robbed there.

I started feeling nervous again. The possibilities of me getting robbed, stabbed, abducted, or becoming an exotic dancer kept growing in my head. But, I hid all these fears and landed in Rio with a brave smile.

The first day, I met some men on the beach and played soccer with them leaving my bags in the hands of a man running a coconut water stand. Nothing was stolen, and the only thing that got stabbed was the coconut he gave me for free. I continued playing soccer with another group, and this time, something unfavorable did happen.

I twisted and sprained my ankle. Luckily, I was in very good hands. The boys made sure I was well taken care of.

On the last day, I went with some new friends to the beach one last time and to make a complicated story simple, I got caught in a riptide. I will be completely honest; there was a moment that I thought I wouldn’t make it. I saw my friend waving at me to come back, but he wasn’t coming toward me so I thought nobody could help me.

The last thing I saw before a big wave took me was my friend coming my way. At that moment I felt hope and then suddenly we were both so far out in the ocean that we could no longer see the shore. I was so happy I was not alone, and the two of us were just laughing trying to stay afloat.

We did not know what we would do because we knew we could not go back into the waves. Within ten minutes a lifeguard comes out to us, and lends us his board to catch our breath, but he tells us that he will not be able to take us back- says he has alerted the helicopter.

WE WERE GOING TO BE SAVED BY A CHOPPER!

We were picked up in nets and then dropped off on the beach where everyone was surrounding us with their cameras out. The experience was crazy. I felt so in love with life, though I could not help but feel a sense of anxiety again; I felt confused. I had been warned about all the dangers of Rio – primarily of all the dangerous people and yet, the people in Rio are the ones who took the best care of me.

I realized from my trip to Brazil that if you are going to be fearful then get ready to fear just about everything – because anything can hurt you. Sand can hurt you; water can hurt you; pavement can hurt you; love can hurt you – anything can hurt you. That is why I gave up on fear and decided to live guided by my intuition and YOLO. Let’s see where that takes me.

“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

-Yoda

(Written by Will Brown)

Growing up in Tucson, Arizona, and ultimately deciding to study abroad in Russia was one of the most shocking, terrifying, beautiful, and rewarding experiences of my life.

No matter how much I practiced Russian and how much I prepared myself, there was no way to truly experience a complete and total cultural immersion in a new country until I arrived bags and translating dictionary in hand.

As I walked through the lively streets of Moscow, surrounded by people, I could not help but feel more isolated. In the beginning every street sign seemed so complex, every business advertisement made no sense, and colloquial phrases were so foreign to me. I quickly realized that not many people were too fond of Americans. Russian nationalism is so intense it sharply competes with the United States, if not surpasses us.

At first I was concerned I would stand out like a sad Jewish American thumb for the remainder of my time in Russia, but I fell into a routine, and with that routine, I immersed myself within the Russian culture. You don’t become one of them, but you’re no longer who you were.

You’re in this weird cultural limbo, and it’s the epitome of strange.

In order to compensate for my cultural misidentification, I threw myself into my studies and tried to learn as much about Chekhov as humanly possible. Or you procrastinate and watch Suits on some sort of Netflix rip-off because that blasted country hasn’t been blessed with the glory that is House of Cards or Bojack Horseman. You get Tinder just to talk with random Russians. Hiding behind the vastness that is the Internet is way easier than face to face communication.

Either way, you find methods of coping and providing yourself with this much needed cultural in between, and you try to culturally define yourself, because let’s be real; it’s so much more comfortable when you feel like you belong in some way, rather than feeling like the distinctive American rocking LL Bean because your duck boots are fly as hell. Even if you’re not 100% one of them, you’re at least, like, 50% part of them, and that feels pretty good.

Of course after a few months, these once isolating factors eventually catalyze your connection to the city in the first place. You become much more familiar with your surroundings, and have dramatically improved your linguistic proficiency. Your foreign experience becomes more familiar and inviting as time goes on.

In the few months spent in Russia, you’re not setting yourself up for a new life. You’re simply participating in life as a citizen of another culture as a way of learning and growing, occasionally making mistakes and smashing your face on a toilet and losing a tooth or getting scammed by a local.

However, what people do not often express is the impact of returning from such a dramatic cultural experience. Suddenly, after 27 hours of travel, your flight descends into the USA, and you are greeted with that same familiarity and culture that you left behind.

You think that you will fall back into your normal routine and every street sign, advertisement, and colloquial phrase will seem the same, but that cannot be further from the truth.

I had these expectations of what life was going to be like when I returned. Granted, I did not predict those freakin hoverboard things…but other than that I predicted that things would be the same.

I assumed my roommate would snore too loudly, my dogs would make sleeping in my bed impossible and my mom would cry when she saw me at the airport. However, it wasn’t until I pushed my car key into the ignition that I realized how much I had changed.

I was so grateful I could drive somewhere, and had the freedom to be and go wherever I wanted. I was able to cook an omelet in a kitchen that isn’t infested with a new breed of ant. These things should make you feel good.

However, instead of being grateful for your clean kitchen and car, you feel as though the part of yourself that you have been building while abroad got left in the airport. That part of you is no longer needed to excel back in your hometown. I felt so ostracized when I came home, since I was constantly searching for that improved Russian version of myself.

You initially think that it will be so great seeing your friends who you have missed dearly.

However, as you sit on the floor playing with their dog you find yourself being so self-conscious of what you’re saying.

You have lost all connection to what a cultural norm in the United States is compared to how you have been communicating in Russia. So you sit there on this dirty floor questioning your cultural identity. You realize you are this American born kid who has some Russian cultural insight and you just don’t think you belong anywhere.

At first I could not shake this feeling of my cultural limbo. However, with time I began to realize that my changing and growth never stopped in Russia. Russia helped push me to become the person I am meant to be and for that I will always be grateful. I realized I may have been overreacting when I felt awkward talking to my friends.

At the end of the day, being abroad teaches you about going outside your cultural and social comfort zones, while ultimately pushing you to be a better person yourself. I am constantly readjusting, but I wouldn’t change my abroad experience for anything. Ok, maybe I would not have lost my front tooth, but other than that I would have kept it the same.

So as the year progresses I will continue to readjust and continue my quest of becoming as culturally astute as possible.