February 29, 2024 by Cassandra Johnson
I like how rare this is. We only get one leap day every four years, and I am reminded I have reignited the plunge I sparked in 2010. I am reminded I have the capacity to do what is unique and strange again. Like many friends (bus, train and flight-bound), I have been nervous along the way but as I noted: My expectations and inspiration far outweigh any doubt I easily identify as a potential obstacle growing into regret.
Everyday, I am reminded I am different in a country not my own. In the country that was my own, the difference began to meet rejection early on. Fair moments, revelations and acceptance could do their work, yet fall short of those experiences which shape our formative years.
Now abroad in Mexico, somehow, the difference seems more welcome, reminding me of affectionate conversations and quality time I had during Pisco Sin Fronteras (Pisco Without Borders). Looking very different from the other Westerners that went to Peru to volunteer then, I wanted to be a part of improving infrastructure after a natural disaster and be someone who shared experiences with people who worked along with us and could face the same judgments I could.
As I wrote of a new life that is healing to me, I sometimes feel like a casual liaison between home and new international places who can be friendly and say a lot or not much at all. I get to be a person who is free, friendly, pensive, outgoing and reserved.
I am consistently aware of how different I am. Only this time, the difference isn’t as daunting as having to be in a space where I could be instantly judged poorly on any micro or macro level or feel expected to represent a variety of people despite my own independent ideas and presence.
This time, being as different as I naturally am feels welcomed abroad by local people, new residents and other visitors like me. Affection and innocent curiosity is exchanged for the microscope (though this can still appear). The boxes to be fitted in don’t remain so close as they used to be. Many of us have already chosen something so left of the norm. Abnormal becomes the usual.
I know there is no perfection. I know both being welcomed and unwelcomed exist in all our spaces, but there is such a stark contrast between first worrying I could easily not find homes away from my native home yet managing to stumble upon comfort again and again.