Week 6 - Prague, Czech Republic

     Lying in my bed just after hanging up the phone with my parents, I felt the weight of my decision settle. For months I’d been dreaming of going to school in Europe—entertaining possibilities, chasing ‘what if’s,’ and imagining what life might be like. But this time these emotions were different. I wasn’t dreaming anymore; I wasn’t theorizing. It was fact. I’m going back. And it was Prague that solidified that certainty.

    The contrasting harmony of its city streets, the lively old town, graffitied alleys, and Soviet architecture, all blending together to create a city I couldn’t get enough of. It was in consistency that I found myself truly appreciating the novelty of it all. Walking around in search of a place to eat, going for a run in the late afternoon, going out with my friends at night. The little bit of a routine I’ve been able to pick up while packing up my bags every Wednesday to take on a new place meshed so well with what Prague had to offer. It tapped into my wanderlust, and when my week was up I hadn’t gotten enough.

    I wasn't ready to accept how fond I had become of those I was traveling with. The countless memories already made without crossing the halfway point of our trip. Yet, after the realization of this being my last European country fully set in I was ready to embrace. Embrace the new experiences, but more importantly the people around me. Embracing an extravagant orchestra hall, or the intimate atmosphere of a jazz club. The quick bites and chats while at a street food stall, or the deep discussions held over a multi-course meal. The energetic vibe of a nightclub, or the tranquil setting of a cocktail bar. The conversations I had while in Prague were some of the best. And memories made there still reflect defining moments in my newly made friendships.
 
  Everything came in balance, and while I wouldn't turn down any invitation to spend time with someone else, the moments I did get alone provided the perfect contrast. I cherished the breath of fresh air I'd take in while journaling on a tram, and holing myself up in my hotel room for a bit to work on photos or a blog post. The more I'd document the more I'd have to write down. So, sometimes getting the chance to just process without a way to jot it all down was the best method of reflection. The afternoon runs when I couldn't help myself, and had to take a photo. As I'd pick up pace once more the weight of where I was, and what I was experiencing would settle in all over again. A reminder to be constantly grateful. At times whatever was weighing so heavily on my mind before slowing down to capture a photo seemed to all but evaporate. I'm falling in love with the change I'm experiencing, and the story I'm writing, and while I was still grasping onto the idea of school in the States, all it took was one more experience. One more conversation. 

    It came in the form of a brief chat with three film students. All it took was for me to see the massive film camera one of them had resting on their shoulder to approach. There were no second thoughts, I just thought they seemed really intriguing. Yet, as soon as my introduction left my mouth I could feel myself freezing up. I knew what strings to pull on to continue the conversation, though for some reason after just a few seconds I was walking away. The farther I walked away from them though, the more I felt the pull to go back. The tram my friend and I were waiting for came and went, and we sat there trying to think of the perfect words to say to not seem 'awkward.' After longer than I'd like to admit we picked ourselves up and started walking back to the plaza we had met them in. The master game plan we came up with? Just be authentic. As we turned the corner, however, they were gone. 

    Though as I repeatedly expressed my disappointment to my friend on the ride back home, the emotions slowly shaped themselves into a realization. What would I have said to 'be authentic?' I would've expressed my love for photography, and interest in videography. My fascination with other people's stories, and the ways they express themselves. My desire to be spontaneous, and constantly embrace everything I can no matter where I am. My obsession with writing my own story, and the realization that I can dream. If one thing is for certain I dream big, and over the last six weeks I've been surrounded by people who won't allow me to settle. The person I'm describing is far from the person who was on a plane to London just a few weeks ago. I'm more than okay with that, and now I have finally allowed myself to take another big step, I couldn't be happier. There was zero hesitation when I hung up that phone, and while I know it won't be free of challenges I can't wait to see what story I'm writing next fall.      

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