Facing Fear in Another Language

posted 16th October 2011    Written by: Kat    CATEGORY: All Posts, Kat, Season 5, Travel, Travel/Adventure

Confession: This trip scares the bejesus out of me.

I’m writing this at a café in Reykjavík, and by the time you read this post, I’ll be cozied up with one of my best friends in England. I will have spent two weeks traveling alone in a country where I speak about five words of the language, and one of those is hæ (pronounced – and meaning – hi).

This visit to Iceland is my first time traveling alone. Sure, I’ve flown plenty of places by myself, but I always knew that someone familiar would be meeting me at the end of the flight. It’s not that I didn’t want to take some solo trips; it’s that each time I began planning one, a friend decided to join me. Those experiences turned out to be a blast, and in the end, I was always a little relieved that I didn’t have to go it alone. Now, here I am at age 30, and I’m finally taking my first solo adventure.

It’s both thrilling and terrifying.

I love being on a schedule that is entirely of my choosing. I think one of the toughest things about traveling with friends is figuring out how to balance the time together so you don’t drive each other insane, as well as finding the right travel partner who wants to see and do the same things as you. It’s hard if you’re someone who likes to get up early and go to museums if the person you’re with likes sleeping late and shopping all day. My schedule will change once I leave the city to work on a farm tomorrow; right now, though, it’s exactly what I want. That’s been rad, especially after my crazy final week of frenzied packing and preparation in Brooklyn. (My time in Seattle was lovely, too; however, I was sick for half of that, which made it…a little less fun.)

Of course, there’s also the scary stuff. I worry the most about the increased risk of being harassed, mugged, attacked, or raped. I suspect that I’m not the only single woman who fears those things. I was jumpy while walking around my old neighborhoods in the States on the best of nights, and then I wasn’t usually carrying as much stuff with me. I’ve been followed home more than once, in different cities, and it was really creepy. I don’t like to be paranoid, but this is a reality that I need to consider.

I’m also getting used to simply being alone, and it’s a challenging adjustment. Between having a fancy internet phone and a consistent internet connection at work, I’ve grown used to being accessible all the time. I did get an Icelandic phone number and some pre-paid credit, but it’s not the same as unlimited minutes on weekends. When I have wi-fi, I can share photos and stories on facebook and twitter, but I don’t have an unlimited data plan to update as things are happening. While it’s probably a good thing to break that addiction, it’s tough because I want to be able to share moments since there isn’t someone here experiencing them with me.

I think the strangest and hardest thing about being alone here is that…this is it. When you live in a place where you know people, you can choose to be alone. When you’re visiting or living in a city where you don’t know anyone, there isn’t someone to call to make plans later. It would be completely normal for me to go on a solo photo walk in Brooklyn, because I could always call and meet up with someone later. If I spent a weekend by myself, I always knew that work would roll around on Monday and I’d see familiar faces of friends there. Here, I’ve got me.

Still, I’m doing this. I’m here, and I’m facing my fears. I spent the past two days walking around Reykjavík solo, taking in the sunshine (and the rain), the ocean air, the sounds of languages around me while I walk in silence. I ate my favorite foods from last year; in case you’re curious, those were lobster soup and pylsur (Icelandic hot dogs). I visited museums that I missed on my last trip and wandered semi-familiar streets. I stayed with a CouchSurfing host, and tomorrow, I leave to work on a farm that raises sheep, grows rhubarb, and makes the rhubarb into jam and other treats. I have no idea what that will be like, and I can’t wait to find out.

I may be alone. I may be afraid. I don’t know what’s on the other side of either of those things. But here I am, writing at a café in Reykjavík, and I’m happy to be here and excited to learn what’s next.

[photo credit: me!]

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Comments (9)

9 Responses to “Facing Fear in Another Language”

  • Amanda Says:
    October 16th, 2011 at 4:28 pm

    Thank you, for an incredible post- one that I so greatly related to. <3

  • Gina Says:
    October 16th, 2011 at 6:05 pm

    Congratulations on making the jump to living abroad Kat! I recently returned from 14 months living and traveling in Asia and I understand how hard it can be adjusting to new cultures and a new lifestyle. What I can tell you now is after having come home I look back on it as one of the most exciting, rewarding times of my life. Hope your work on the farm goes amazingly and good luck in all your travels.

  • laurenne_s Says:
    October 16th, 2011 at 10:38 pm

    AWESOME!!!! You are all you ever need!
    And I love that photo!

  • Ag Says:
    October 17th, 2011 at 7:07 pm

    Amanda, I discovered your beautiful blog via clicking your name. You have gained a devoted reader. Much success on your new journey <3 Ag

  • Ag Says:
    October 17th, 2011 at 7:09 pm

    Kat, there is always such a strength that flows from your writing and how you view your experiences. It is effortless. <3 Ag

  • Amanda Says:
    October 20th, 2011 at 1:48 pm

    you're so sweet. thank you. <3 AK

  • Kat Says:
    October 27th, 2011 at 5:34 am

    You're so welcome! Thank you for reading and commenting. <3

  • Kat Says:
    October 27th, 2011 at 7:49 am

    Oh, awesome! Where in Asia were you living and traveling? What were you doing while you were there?

    I'll be doing an upcoming post that talks about the farm a bit, but it was definitely totally different and more amazing than expected. So yay. :) Thanks for the good wishes!

  • Kat Says:
    October 27th, 2011 at 7:51 am

    Thanks, lady!! My first two days in Reykjavik, those pink scarves were on all of the sculptures, and then by the time I came back a few days later to make a delivery for the farm, they were gone. Glad I got to see them. :)

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