Last week, I sat huddled in an unfamiliar kitchen with seven new friends, watching the finale of a show I had never watched before. Everything was entirely new, yet I somehow felt perfectly at home. I confess, I’d never had much interest in watching The Summer I Turned Pretty —I always thought it to be too cliche.
But as my friends and I exchanged commentary on the main character’s new hairstyle, I found myself invested. Along with the long-term watchers, I anxiously wondered if Conrad and Belly would end up together. These characters seemed driven by a force of nostalgia, holding hopes that recreating their idyllic past could lead them through every decision. Perhaps I relate to them more than I care to admit.
When I was preparing to spend the semester abroad at the University of Edinburgh, people often asked me, “Why Scotland?” I never had much of an answer. My choice seemed to be out of nostalgia for a place I’ve never been. My dad travels there regularly for golf, I have Scottish ancestry, and I love Harry Potter. Deciding to go abroad here simply felt meant to be—as did deciding to stay in Boston this summer on my own, and all the way back to choosing to attend Boston College.
I knew I experienced some of the best moments of my life due to these pivotal decisions, and I could only hope I would be able to say the same when I returned from abroad. The day my boyfriend drove me to the airport for my trans-Atlantic flight, all my anxieties emerged. I started to panic, questioning my decision. Why did I choose a program with so few BC students? How can I go weeks without seeing the people I care most about in the world? Did I make the right choice?
When the plane landed, my worry eased. On my first Wednesday in Edinburgh, I met a group of exchange students outside the University’s library. We spent the day exploring the city together and made random connections. We knew each other’s exes, have the same old friends, and are in the same clubs at our respective schools. There was a sense of ironic familiarity. We booked tickets for an Isle of Skye tour together that same day.
My mother has always expressed interest in traveling to the Isle of Skye—the homeland of my Scottish ancestors. When the day of the tour came, we sleepily greeted each other for our 7 a.m. bus ride. The first day of the tour consisted of our quintessentially Scottish tour guide’s raunchy jokes, stops at various “Lochs,” and a night out in a town known for its row of rainbow buildings. Among all the peculiarities, I could acknowledge how my past has led to growth. During freshman year, the communal bathrooms in my Kostka dormitory were enough to give me nightmares. But two years later, I was content in sharing a six-person room in a hostel in Scotland. Even the dorm troubles of my past only prepared me for traveling Europe.
The next day began with a hike up the Old Man of Storr, famous for its stunning views of several Lochs and rock formations. I have been a hiker for as long as I can remember, doing daily hikes with my best friend and mom at home in Montana. One new friend I made from Connecticut was also an avid hiker, and we found ourselves leading the way beyond the first summit our tour group stopped at. I was reminded of the hikes from home and various hiking trips with my mom.
As we approached the top of the 1300-foot peak, I breathlessly remarked how much the view reminded me of the fictitious Isle of Berk from one of my all-time favorite movies, How to Train Your Dragon. “I love that movie so much! I listened to the theme song as my flight to Scotland took off!” my new friend exclaimed.
I considered that it might be odd for us to be thinking about a favorite movie from childhood years later as we stood on the peak of a foreign mountain. But the past has funny ways of slipping into our lives. Perhaps my feeling of fulfillment while abroad has true ties to the canned answer I give people who ask why I chose Scotland—it reminds me of my family’s history, and cherished memories from my past. I know this semester has just begun, but I already have a good answer for “why Scotland?”
