Study Abroad Changed Me
and then I got deported
ANNA BOUSTANY // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
When I came to Amman on December 28, 2019, the first thing I could think about was that this was going to be the first new year I would spend without my family. New Year’s Eve is my favourite holiday, and toasting it from a rooftop in Amman was not the same as spending all day making and eating as much food as humanly possible. Still, it couldn’t dim the excitement of beginning a new decade in a new place surrounded by unknown possibilities.
I couldn’t have predicted that my best friend’s program in Italy would end early due to COVID-19, nor that my program, so initially threatened by the US-Iran conflict that the US embassy recommended US citizens stay indoors for three days straight, would make it to March relatively unscathed. Of course, the middle of March was chaos for me just as much as anybody else. As countries closed their borders, and flights were cancelled, my family and I cancelled travel plans in the middle of my exam. I was one of the lucky ones, given that I bought my flight home from Jordan before the announcement of Jordan’s border closures. I secured my seat on the last direct flight to the US, while friends around me scrambled to find 40-50 hour flights home to somewhere, anywhere in their home countries.
ANNA BOUSTANY // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
When I first began brainstorming this article, I was still in Jordan (yes, it’s been a very long time in the making). Since my program was a third-party program, and I knew practically no one in the country, Jordan was a test of my independence. I thought I would fail, if we’re being honest. I have never been very good at doing things on my own. I will walk my bike in the opposite direction I need to go for a few extra moments with a friend, and I have waited to pursue opportunities and experiences until I can go with others. The extrovert in me is fine with this. Jordan was different. While I made wonderful friends, who I am so grateful for, we all had different schedules, different lives, different timelines. I wasn’t going to leave Jordan without seeing Petra, and so I booked a bus ticket just for me. I would never have gone on a three-hour bus ride to hike all day in America. But half of my friends were in Egypt, and the other half busy with studying.
I made a friend on the bus. (I am all-too willing to gab with my seatmates on buses and planes, and have made many a friend there). The weather in Petra could not have been more beautiful, and the red-rock city is gorgeous. I hiked at my own pace, took my time, and ate Twix bars as fuel with no judgement. Reaching the monastery at the end of my hike, I walked to a sign pointing to “the most beautiful view in the world.” It was the most awe-inspiring place I’ve ever been, and a part of me was sad that I had no one to share it with. But after a moment of reflection, and a picture taken of me by a fellow tourist, I realised that the view was the most beautiful in the world regardless of who was there. I was just lucky to be there, in the moment. Also, shout out to Zain, my fantastic cell-provider, who allowed me to facetime my parents on my hike, and make sure all of my Instagram followers knew just how cool I was by posting from the top of the hike.
ANNA BOUSTANY // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
When I left Jordan, in a haze of anxiety and speed-packing, I felt ready for whatever senior year and beyond would throw at me. I could live on my own, find meaning on my own, deal with my issues, connect to friends. And then I got thrown back into middle school. Like hopefully all of you, my family and I took quarantining seriously (and still take social distancing and wearing masks seriously! Don’t spread COVID!). I went from making all of my own decisions, to seeing on my immediate family. Even a social distanced walk at the park required coordination with my parents’ cars and permission, to make sure it was not putting my family at risk. My job this summer was entirely virtual, and my senior year has begun like no other.
2020 for me has been an incredible juxtaposition. I am incredibly privileged in so many ways. I got to study abroad. My family and I have been safe and healthy throughout the pandemic. I lost a bit of travel time and a lot of independence, so in the grand scheme, I know I am lucky. But it is still hard, to lose that readiness for a life after college. I felt so ready to search for jobs, to live wherever. (Please hire me, I promise I’m very talented and cool!) Now I’m working on making it through each day, and finding meaning in a new world.
ANNA BOUSTANY // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
Leaving Jordan was one of the most stressful weekends of my life. I have never been in a place where I might truly get stuck. In America, I can drive anywhere, and I am fortunate enough that abroad, my American passport and savings account are enough to get me home in an emergency. That alone showcases my privilege.
Since I’ve been home, I’ve dealt with a higher base level of anxiety than I have ever had previously, and had to learn entirely new wellness techniques and coping mechanisms. This is nothing new to you, as I’m sure the global pandemic has increased stress across the globe. But I am lucky, in that I had three extra months of practice connecting with all my friends virtually, and attending meetings virtually. I even knew what Zoom was last summer from my job with IT last summer.
I was lucky to get to study abroad. To lean into the cliché, study abroad changed me. And so did COVID, both in ways that I could never have expected, for the better and for the worse.
ANNA BOUSTANY // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE