I Won’t Let Terrorism Scare Me From the World

by Nicole Hobday

Today I write with a solemn heart, in light of the atrocity committed in Orlando. 50 Americans were gunned down in an LGBT club in an act of radical Islamic Terrorism.

I couldn’t possibly express the sorrow and outrage that this causes, and my heart is with the victims and their families, and amazing law enforcement and medical responders who bravely worked to stabilize the situation and save whatever lives they could.

All of this brings us a startling reminder. There is a global force of hate in the world that frequently targets congested groups of people, particularly in Europe and America. The sad truth is that it could happen anywhere. No one in the Bataclan went to a concert with even the vaguest thought that they would be involved in a massacre. Club-goers in The Pulse nightclub in Orlando just went out like any normal Saturday night. To hang with their friends. To dance. Maybe to kiss someone new.

Makeshift memorial for Orlando’s Pulse nightclub

Flowers outside Paris’ Bataclan concert venue

The prominent presence of terrorism in the world is scary. It’s meant to be. It’s meant to frighten us. To make us feel as though no where is safe. And yes, the hand of ISIS is a long one, spreading like a disease.

I have a trip to Europe planned for September. My father, educated and ex-military, has made it quite clear that he is very much against me going anywhere in Europe, out of concern for my safety. I knew he would. I didn’t even mention it to him before I bought my  plane tickets.

We must be vigilant. We must always be aware of personal safety, whether we’re going to catch the city bus for work or traveling to a different country. But we must not stop living. We must not stop traveling. We must not stop seeking new places and meeting new people.

I am not going to let bullies keep me from seeing the world. I am not going to let bullies keep me from making human connections. Travel inherently spreads love and understanding. It reminds us that we are all part of this world. It’s more important than ever for the human race to function like we’re all one. To function as though we share this world. We need to share this world, in harmony.

So yes, we must be sharp. We must be safe. But we must not let fear hold us back. We must not let this dark wave smother us. So yes, I this fall I am going to Amsterdam, Prague, and Berlin. And I’m not going to let anything stop me. You shouldn’t either. Because you are a force for good in this world, and that should not and cannot be stopped.  Travel on ,and travel safe, my friends.

 

The Wild and Lonely Places

In February of 2010, I woke up in a cottage in the Irish countryside. Snow was falling gently and there were two stray sheep just out the window.

For an undergrad from Philadelphia, it couldn’t get much closer to a fairytale. My then-boyfriend and I were on internships in Dublin, and spent the weekend with his extended family he’d just met. They lived a short drive from Westport, County Mayo, Ireland. Westport is a tidy little town, but like most other cities in Ireland, it takes barely a ten minute drive to find yourself in the middle of nowhere. And I mean like, driving on a one-way farm road and then coming face to face with an oncoming car, then one of you has to slowly reverse thirty yards until you find a spot where one of you can pass the other kind of middle of nowhere.

The view from the McDonnall’s cottage is a pretty perfect view of the local icon, Croagh Patrick, a small but distinctly cone-shaped mountain, aka the Reek.

Our sweet and gracious hosts drove us through the region, around Clew Bay, through Doolough Pass. It’s serene, especially in the stillness of winter. A short drive down the road takes you to a valley where the mountains make you feel so small and insignificant.

I found this feeling in a few of my favorite places during my all-too-brief time abroad. The awesome beauty of Ireland and Scotland is impossible to deny. I have a special place in my heart for these sort of places, in the middle of the wild, the places that are so desolate and beautiful it makes you feel lonely.

It’s a peaceful sort of loneliness, though. The pleasant kind of serenity you find when you have a nice walk by yourself, away from the hustle and bustle of everyday. When you don’t talk, and there’s nothing to listen to except that pure, touchy-feely thing called “nature.” There’s a longing you feel in these places. A primordial longing for our wild roots–an unfamiliar feeling considering how keen I am on commodities like hot showers and comfy bedding.

  Me as a college childbaby in Glencoe, Scotland. Taken during the dark ages of my Kodak point-and-shoot camera. 

In these incredible isles, it doesn’t take much effort to find yourself lost in a spacious valley that feels almost untouched by civilization. This is the Wild. But often, these places are far from untouched. Often, these majestic highlands are sites of ancient tragedies, like the mass starvation of travelers in Ireland’s Doolough Pass, or the massacre of the MacDonald Clan at Scotland’s Glencoe. You can feel a certain solemnity in these places. The Wild has seen more than any of us. I love a good city, but my ear is always out for the silence of the beautiful, lonely places of the world.