My time is wearing
thin; I'm not saying that I'm starting to feel wrinkly, but rather as
if I've hit a wrinkle in time. I just purchased my return ticket,
one-way, to the United States of America. I'd like to say that I am
“headed home” in July, but that words tastes funny on my now
tri-lingual tongue. My father is living in a new house, my mother is
about to move into her new house, I will return to a new apartment
and my brother will probably not even be in the same country next
year. What does this mean? To attempt an explanation: home is
beginning to take on a German accent.
I have now hit my 13
month mark of living in Germany and thus the ideas of home are
naturally starting to reverse themselves. Now, the countdown begins.
43 days. The sheer amount of accumulated material possessions is
starting to weigh me down kilo by airline approved kilo. The
stretched distance of the Atlantic ocean that will stand between my
love and I seems to lose every echo I curse at it. I have stacks of
maps, postcards, and brochures filed as neatly as a haystack might
be. My poor hard-drive is overloaded with smiling photos and my
suitcase is giving me a sneer rather than the usual wink. What is
happening here? 43 days.
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| Challenge becomes my comfort zone (Groningen, the Netherlands) |
No exaggeration, I
am sitting in my warm kitchen with the rain tapping the window and a
glass of Rot Wein (red wine) beside my computer while the smells of
fresh herbs wafting from my window garden are teasing my senses as I
write this. Today, I chatted with my roommate in German, invented a
new dish, had a fresh pretzel from the baker by school and received
my daily nod and wave from the silent man who lives above his
shoemaker shop on the corner. I feel as if my cup is not only full
but brimming with happiness and opportunity. Though the US is often
nicknamed the “Land of Opportunity,” I feel as if my heart is
calling me to dwell on different shores.
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| The sun sets over the snowy gardens during Christmastime in Oldenburg, Germany |
Admittedly, my
parents' reactions to this realization are not what I expected; they
seem to look forward to the European trips they can now justify but
are fairly quiet as to their own emotions about me being so far away.
Perhaps they realized a long time ago that I had a different calling.
Perhaps they're keeping their true emotions to themselves in order to
let me be individually inspired and jump out of the proverbial nest
as far as my international wings will carry me. I must admit that I
fear being so far away from them, being so far removed from familial
relations, holidays and laughter. This life is most definitely not
what I had expected, but it fills me with excitement everyday that my
eyes settle on a German sunset (sunrises are often missed by my
sleeping-in eyes).
Alas, this journey
I've chosen shall not be an easy one. Two final semesters in the US
will mark the greatest decision-making time that my 23 years of life
will have seen. 43 days.
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| Finding peace in Freiberg am Neckar, Germany |
