Desert and Wilderness

I got off the bus. One of my colleges noticed me. We were both in the Diplomatic Protocol course I’m taking in Polish this semester. She asked me how long I’d been learning the language. “About six years” I replied.

How much I’d changed since that time. Yet, my situation was similar.

Six years ago, I was a junior in high school. Many students prepare for university admissions during these months.  The stress is incredible. To gain acceptance at an elite U.S. university, you must be the star of your class. Now, I’m applying for summer internships during my first year of graduate school. I’ve done so much, but the standards are higher. You still have to get picked out of the pile. All you have is the audacity of hope. Your constant companion is the specter of failure.

 I pushed myself hard during my third year of high school. In class, I forced myself to study collage level chemistry, history and Spanish. I began learning Polish over the weekends. My mother left for 2 months during spring semester. It was her first trip to Maldives. While she was there, I shouldered many burdens at home. I cooked the meals, handled the shopping and just about everything else except my father’s wash and feeding the dogs.

During that time, my Polish teacher gave me a book. An English translation of Sienkiewicz’s 19^th century work ‘In Desert and in Wilderness.' It’s a nakedly nationalist work which details the account of a teenage Pole and his young British friend’s abduction. The tome recounted their self-deliverance from captivity. It lauded the children’s victorious return to their families as leaders of a sub-Saharan army. The shockingly humorous certainty of the story sustained me through that time.

That summer I went to Maldives. Working in the capital as a reporter was the best experience of my life. Still, the point was to get noticed on college applications.  I applied after my return. During the afterthought known as senior year. I thought the impossible happened when I got accepted to USC-Marshall. I’d made it.

But that wasn’t the end. I recently downloaded the same Sienkiewicz novel. Only this time in Polish. The story’s the same. It’s still a narrative of audacious purpose. Yet, it’s also a first encounter with matters of unquestioning devotion, resentment and fear of failure.

Tomorrow I’m due to take yet another standardized test. Hoping to get picked from the pile. It’s as if past risks and accomplishments never even happened. All that matters is the next trial of survival. Four internships and a bachelor’s degree later; I’m still reading the same book.

 At least books have an end. The Polish protagonist returned to his family atop an elephant.  During this time, Poland was erased from the world map. He made his credo what is today the Polish national anthem’s first line.

 And I am still waiting to begin my career in Europe.  Still applying for yet more internships. Striving to affirm my place in international society.

Until then, I shall wander in desert and wilderness. My dreams have not yet perished. I hope they shall not. As long as I live.