A lost passport is something that every tourist fears, and rightfully so. Your passport is equivalent to your life blood while abroad. If forgotten or misplaced, there is no way to leave the country you are in, which is quite terrifying. This is the fear that my best friend Sarah had realized when she attempted to buy her ticket to Macau from Hong Kong and saw that she forgot her passport at our university, a full hour away by subway.

"Carley, just buy your ticket. Go! I'm going back to the university! I have an hour."

"But-"

"GO!" This was a command, not a suggestion. Scared of the tiny terror that had emerged (but understanding that this was stemming from fear and anxiety), I bought my ticket and went through immigration. My ticket was for 1:45, forty-five minutes away. Sarah would make it... right?

Forty-five minutes passed... then it became an hour... then another thirty minutes... Ferry after ferry left every fifteen minutes and I watched diligently for Sarah to step down from the escalator. What was I supposed to do if she didn't show up? Do I go to Macau by myself? I know nothing about this place! All I know is that there is a Venetian hotel and it was once colonized by Portugal. Sarah had all of the maps. Also what fun would it be if I went by myself...? Am I able to do this...?

I don't know but I am going to find out. The next ferry that approached, I gathered my little purse and set out to board it. I could hear everyone that ever cared about my safety and well-being screaming in my head, myself included, "Carley, no! What are you doing?! You are going to get kidnapped and killed! You don't do this! This is not a 'by self' kind of moment!" My heart was pounding as I sat in my seat and stared at the wall ahead blankly, deeply regretting my decision. However, what was done was done, and I was on my way to Macau. As the ferry made its way, my fear started to subside and it slowly evolved into determination and excitement. I was going to make this work. I was not going to die by being in Macau for five hours by myself, at least I hoped not.

As it turned out, I did not die. Instead, I had one of the most adventurous days of my life. Did I get lost? Yes. Did I end up in the not-so-pretty part of Macau? Yes. Did I feel completely out of my depth as I gazed at both blackjack tables and 200 year old churches? Oh, hell yes. That does not mean I did not have a blast doing it though.

The month I spent studying in Hong Kong proved to be one of the most life changing experiences I have had as an undergraduate student. I was coming out of a brutal heartbreak and recovering from traumatic events that had happened the previous semester. I was under the impression I was a weak individual with no future that would ever make up for her tainted past. But Hong Kong allowed me the freedom to be the person that deep down I knew I was. I was reunited with myself, and fell in love with me. Which leads me to my main point.

Study abroad is more than just going and studying in another country. It’s learning what you are capable of. It’s going outside that comfort zone and frolicking in what you find. It’s deconstructing and rebuilding everything you thought about yourself and about the world. You will change and harden and collapse and grow, but you will realize that through all of this growing up bullshit, you will have a deeper appreciation for you. This is why studying abroad is essential for the complete college experience.

Coming back from Hong Kong, I stared out the terminal window saddened to see palm trees instead of Lantau Peak. My heart ached for the surroundings that fostered my confidence to return. However, one thing struck me that allowed me to step out of that airport with a smile on my face, and it propels me forward to this day.