I have been home for exactly one month. I miraculously experienced zero jet lag coming back from Japan, which was great, because I wanted to jump back into my "home" routine as quickly and productively as possible. I haven't exactly established a routine yet, but I am getting lots of family time and figuring out a game plan for the next phase of my life. Overall, I think I'm adjusting better than most.
Aside from the rules of travel (e.g. you are allowed visitors from home to join you in your travels for a maximum of two weeks; no research, academic classes, or professional development activity; no volunteer programs without prior approval), the only rela requirement of the Bonderman is a thank-you letter to Mr. Bonderman himself (seems reasonable, yes?) Seems like that letter would make for an appropriate final Bonderman blog post.
April 30, 2017
Dear Mr. Bonderman,
Whenever I’ve told friends and family about the Bonderman Fellowship, their response has often been one of disbelief and confusion: “Wait…what?” (Naturally, “Wait, what?” became the name of my travel blog.)
The thing is, no one disagrees with the idea that traveling is an important and incredibly valuable experience. They just don’t seem to understand why someone would fund a world travel program for students with no academic or professional development requirements or objectives. To be honest, neither do I, but sometimes you have to just let something “too good to be true” be true.
Although I may not ever fully understand why you do it – the expectations or hopes that you have for each student who embarks on this life-changing experience when there are no consistent or predictable ways in which their lives are changed – I do understand how valuable it has been for me. I returned to The States a little over a week ago, and although I am still discovering and processing the ways my Bonderman experience has (and has not) changed me, some of it is already clear.
I realized that changing geographical settings does not automatically change my internal settings. I can’t travel-away my inner bullsh*t. It goes wherever I go. Traveling changes people, but it cannot do so passively. It takes work to evolve, no matter where you are. Now I know better than to expect a new place to make my problems go away or “make” me a better person just by being there.
Practicing gratitude has become more important to me now than it ever was before. It is the single greatest antidote for fear and envy. I’ve learned that the most valuable phrase to learn in any new language is “thank you.” On a practical and spiritual level, knowing how to express gratitude is often all you need to get by.
I am more aware of my mortality and others’, and more at peace with it.
My confidence in my own resourcefulness and competence has become much stronger.
I feel noticeably more patient and more present. I’ve lived the pattern of anticipating something, experiencing it, and then leaving it behind it as I’m swept away to the next experience, over and over again. I’ve heard before that the present moment is the only time there ever really is, but the truth of that idea means more to me now. The present cannot be rushed, nor should it be. Time only moves forward, and the future is always steadily on its way. The only time we ever have to learn, to grow, to change, to experience anything, is RIGHT NOW.
I feel more patriotic and more American than before I left, but also more connected to humanity in general. I am more aware of my connections to my family tribe, my national tribe, and the tribe of the human race. As I arrived in the last few countries, they didn’t feel very foreign anymore. Transitioning between cultures became easier and easier, because they all just started to feel very human – relatable and familiar in one way or another. I'm not sure if I'll ever feel culture shock again, for better or worse.
Since the day I was offered the Bonderman Fellowship, I’ve been expecting to have a “gratitude breakdown” – a moment when the reality of this unbelievable opportunity would sink in fully and overwhelm me so much that I’d fall to my knees in tears of joy. That seemed to be the obvious and inevitable response to being given $20,000 to travel around the world on a grand solo adventure.
However, despite the fact that gratitude came up as a consistent theme with nearly every experience along the way, I am home now, and I am still waiting for that “breakdown” moment. Maybe it will never happen. Maybe the hugeness of this gift and its impact on my life will simply be absorbed in a less dramatic way. Maybe it will all sink in one year or ten years from now, perhaps when something reminds of that time in Peru I sat in a hut at a shamanic healing center listening to icaras, when I floated down a river in the Amazon rainforest on a tiny raft, the night I kissed the hand of a homeless man in Rio, how liberating it felt to triumph over my fear of scuba diving and take scooter joy rides around Indonesia, or the peace and stillness of soaking in onsen in Japan. Only time will tell.
Throughout my travels, I have thought often about what to say to you in this letter. I don’t mean to make a sacrilegious comparison between you and God, but I’m fairly certain I thanked each of you an equal number of times during the trip. Every time I was filled with gratitude toward God for creating this gorgeous, diverse, messy, life-taking, life-sustaining planet, that moment was followed by gratitude toward you for the opportunity to see and experience so much of it.
Gracias – Obrigada – ขอขอบคุณ -- អរគុណ -- cảm ơn bạn -- Terima kasih -- ありがとうございました
Thank you!
Michelle E. Martinez
2016 Bonderman Fellow
