On Nov. 5, I felt proud to be an American as I cast my vote in the 2024 presidential election. But when the election results were announced on Nov. 6, I couldn’t wait to leave the country. Luckily, I had my escape plan lined up: A study abroad program that would take me to Berlin, Germany — my current home base for a few weeks — as well as a few cities in Spain (Madrid, Valencia, Barcelona, and Seville, to be exact) over the course of three months. Leading up to the trip, I would crack jokes about being abroad when Donald Trump takes office for his second term: “I’ll be out of the country during the transition of power” and “Maybe my flight home will get delayed for four or so years.” Now that it’s actually happening, though, the reality is far from funny.
So far, my time in Berlin has been wonderful. I mean, I’m still grappling with the time difference and the bone-chilling temperatures in Berlin (I left Seattle to get away from the cold and wet for a few weeks, not to submerge myself in it), but I’ve been having an amazing time — until I think about what’s going on back home, that is.Â
One moment, I’m enjoying my commute to class, basking in the ease that is German public transit, and the next, I’m wondering how a Trump presidency could impact the U.S. transportation system.
Touring gorgeous cathedrals and palaces, popping into cafes for sweet treats, and browsing shops when I need to defrost from the freezing temps — it can all help distract me from thinking about “what’s next” for a moment, but only a brief one. One moment, I’m enjoying my commute to class, basking in the ease that is German public transit, and the next, I’m wondering how a Trump presidency could impact the U.S. transportation system. I sit down in the lecture hall and learn about how fascism rises and falls, and lock eyes with my fellow American students in the program, knowing we’re each thinking about how the words hit too close to home.Â
I’m so far away, which gives the illusion that I’m disconnected from it all, but I know that I will eventually return home and face the state of my country — whatever it may be — head-on.
I was speaking with one of my professors after class one day and I eventually asked, “How are Germans reconciling the fact that they voted the far right into power?” He pondered for a moment and we continued to speak for a few minutes on the topic, until he turned the question back onto me, “Well, what about in the U.S.?” It was a question I knew was coming and hadn’t stopped thinking about since Election Day, and one that’s been made excessively harder to grapple with now that I’m waking up to upsetting news about my country on a near-daily basis. I’m so far away, which gives the illusion that I’m disconnected from it all, but I know that I will eventually return home and face the state of my country — whatever it may be — in real time.
The term “reverse culture shock” refers to a feeling of disorientation many study abroad students feel upon coming home after getting used to their life in a different country. But I’m anticipating something even more intense: returning home to a country that feels so different from the one I left. I’m already prepared to miss both Spain and Germany and reminisce over the great memories I’ve yet to make, but I’m still coming to terms with what could be the “new normal” in the United States (if “normal” is even an applicable term). I’ve got eight or so weeks left to figure it out, but here’s my game plan so far: I’ll learn as much as I can from my professors and the history all around me. I’ll confide in the new friends I’ve made, creating a community of fellow concerned Americans to face our collective fears. And, above all, I will continue having fun — a small act of protest in the face of my own anxiety and sense of impending doom for the country I call home.