It was the first morning. I, a ninth-grader, watched cautiously as a jet-lagged stranger spread fish on crackers for breakfast in our kitchen, before sprinkling green powder on them.
At eighteen, Victoria had packed her suitcase in rural Sweden and flown halfway across the world to live with us for a year. We were her host family, and she was to study in the United States and teach us about her culture while she learned about ours. Through the ensuing series of misadventures, memories and experiences, Victoria instilled in me her joy in life, a passion for exploration, and a sense of wanderlust which has changed my worldview ever since.
That first morning, she offered me one of the crackers, holding up the stinky substance before my scrunched-up nose. “Surströmming?” she asked. Pickled herring. I shook my head at this offering. She laughed and insisted I try it. Relenting, I took a tiny bite, then a bigger one. My former hesitation morphed into enthusiasm (it was delicious).
Soon, the distractions of breakfast had passed, and Victoria sat on the couch across from me: silence ensued. It was a sleepy weekend, so she suggested we go on a drive. She, my father and I piled into the car. Victoria, reaching for the clutch she was used to in Europe, accidentally slammed on the brake and we lurched forward. Driving would have to wait.
Over the subsequent months, which turned into a year, and then another, Victoria became a part of our family. I showed her things I was proud of: the warmth of the Hanukkah candles or my collection of favorite novels, which poured out of my overflowing “book closet.” I brought her stacks of my old photography, music and travel magazines. My brother and I showed her our favorite card games and bicycle paths: our July and August afternoons were a blur of biking through green trees and over bridges, with quick breaks for Swedish snacks from a shop in the city. Later, in the dead of winter, we drank julmust, Scandinavian holiday soda.
Victoria showed me it is okay to take risks, like she did by leaving Sweden and traveling to the U.S. just a month after high school. She encouraged me study passionately but leave time to explore. Victoria taught me to go forth into the world. Sometimes, we would grab our cameras or buy a disposable camera and go into New York City. Victoria would cover her eyes, point to a part of the subway map, and as she put it: “let the winds take us there.” On these trips we found old antique shops, hidden delis, new streets and sounds and smells. I documented it all on my camera and in my mind, capturing faces, buildings and street art to keep for later. As a journalist, I am a storyteller, and Victoria showed me that I can write my own life’s story, so long as I take the first step and try.
Victoria left recently; the winds took her elsewhere. She now pops up on my phone in pictures taken in Copenhagen, or a video posted from Crete. As of right now, she is somewhere in Thailand, probably inspiring others with her joy for living and travel, her understanding that time is in the present.
Someday I will live like Victoria, even if just for a little while. I am a journalist, writer and language-nerd. I yearn to see new places, meet new people and learn more things. I dream of colorful markets, unfamiliar cities and new museums. Victoria showed me to take my best qualities and set myself loose on the world, to breathe free and dance in the sunlight.