Brock { Abroad }

Perhaps the best way to describe this city is like Amsterdam’s bitchier sister who is just as hot, but more in the “I can kick your ass” kind of way. As a matter of fact, this city has chewed me up and spit me out, but left me coming back for more. With gusts of salty wind, huge skyscrapers, and an impossible grind of cars, trams, and bicycles, she doesn’t give you the the time to think. People aren’t strolling canals in circles, but crossing bridges with a direct destination in mind. In Rotterdam, you work hard and you play hard. Any questions? If so, catch the nearest train back to Amsterdam; maybe someone up there will give you the time of day.

It’s not surprising, then, that I reached the first obstacle of my trip here. Head spinning, my body lies like a rag on the sofa, my brain is fuzzy, and the television plays movie after movie, as if on repeat. Maybe it is on repeat. I’m not sure. The flu medicine is kicking in…
A foghorn drifts through the window; a bicycle bell jingles; People scamper by,
bicycle chains crank along screeching brakes as a stoplight turns red. A tram groans along its creaking tracks, crunching corners. A horn honks, a bridge erupts, some people (finally) stop. A ship churns along splashing water,
a boy ambles for his ball, a crane cranks overhead. The bridge snaps tight again, it’s rusted rotting chains back in place. The road begins to whip with wet tires.

Another peculiar travel “phenomena” happens to me in Rotterdam- something I’ve seen before. Like many relationships with my destinations, I get in what I like to call the “comfort zone.” This, however, seemed an extreme case that made me question my complete existence. Well, at least my complete existence for the next year or two.

In my ongoing “guilt” over not going to school yet and instead following my passion to travel and write, I happen upon one of those opportunities- maybe you’re familiar. It’s that kind that blindsides you on some idle Thursday and makes you ask: “is this meant to be, or is this meant to be a distraction?” I meet a mutual friend who was involved in the perfect educational opportunity in a great city. It’s practical, involves real-life experience, travel, and is a hybrid education that seems to be meant for a person who is beginning to understand the future of the Gen X workforce. The following excerpt is taken from their website, http://knowmads.nl :

“A Knowmad is a nomadic knowledge worker – that is, a brave, responsible, creative, imaginative person who can effect change and work with anybody, anytime, anywhere.
Knowmads can instantly reconfigure environments and apply their knowledge at different levels in multiple contexts.”

First, I ask myself. “What was I trying to do when I left home almost a month ago?”
The thud of rain like bullets on steel interrupts my thought, and I close the window.
Light-headed, I think of where I was last year.
I recall falling in love with Paris and almost looking for an apartment. I hear my mentor and friend Curtis tell me:
“Paris will always be there.”

I then remember the plane landing over the shantytown of Mumbai; the sheer enjoyment being out of my comfort zone India gave me.

I close my eyes, and this damned city stays awake yelling at me, blaring over even my own thoughts.

After 24 hours feeling not much better than the brown handkerchief I have converted into my snot rag, I decide to get the hell out of this city- at least for a day. What can I say? It’s a love-hate relationship between us.

I leave for Utrecht to spend a day or two with my friend Stephan and his girlfriend, Julieth, who lives in the quieter university town. As I’d already learned, life provides a person with very few accidental encounters if one begins to truly open their eyes and ears. My mother, who will claim that she is never wrong, has been quoted to tell me from a very young age that “everything happens for a reason.”

Julieth’s reason is still very clear when I roll my eyes back to my head and see the mental image I have placed there. She is fishing out an atlas and sitting down next to me, tracing a route she took through Scandinavia. She is smiling. The atlas between us gets us both excited; a sort of static electricity of excitement a traveler gets when their eyes can’t get any wider from the sheer possibility it’s oversize pages bring. She can feel my passion. I turn to her and break the silence.

” You know when you begin to want something, and soon you begin to tell yourself that it is true, so that it will come true?”
She nods, knowingly.
“I can say it aloud. I am moving to Amsterdam. I will learn Dutch. I can justify why this or why not that, but then I begin to ask myself: why am I trying to justify this? Why can’t my inside say to me what my outside is saying to everyone else?”

Julieth dumps the atlas on my lap.
The silence allows me to answer my own questions. Rather, my gut answers for me.

“You’re a clever boy, Brock. Do it now.”

And I knew exactly what she meant, and I’d heard it so many times before, and then I prayed a prayer of internal thanks for giving me the guidance I needed to stay on the path I set out on; for all needs being met, and for all wants being forgotten. I returned to the knowmads website today and read the first thing I saw:

“By prevailing over all obstacles and distractions, one may unfailingly arrive at his chosen goal or destination.”

Related posts:

1. travel&life, soul&spirit
2. Back in Rotterdam
3. goodbye Rotterdam, hello New Year!
4. a story of pilgrimage
5. Glimpse, stories from {abroad}.