Who would ever think that my dad telling me he spoke to a turtle would bring me to tears.
I was suggested to write about some of my negative experiences abroad so far, because good times without the bad is pretty invalid, in my point of view. So here it is, as promised.
I consider myself a pretty cheery person, thus resulting in a mostly hunky-dory blog. I was reminded the other day that my blog is hardly realistic. It's a lie, really. Okay, maybe a half-lie. With the "fun" and "adventure" come the tough things I'm experiencing. Homesickness is among them. And stress (getting to airports, packing, etc...).
We often describe the way things are by comparing them to things they're not. My last bout of homesickness probably came about because I realised England wasn't-- well, home. Over Christmas and New Years I had stayed with friends and their families, both amazing times that I'll never forget. Staying with them wasn't just like staying in any old accommodation or house. I was staying in a home and that was when I realised that I'd forgotten what being home meant and felt like. What happened next was like having a bucket of ice cold water thrown over you in your warm bed, wrapped in your comforter and duvet: I came back to my flat, in between Germany and Turkey. It was quiet. Post-apocalyptically quiet. You know as well as I do that 'quiet' is the perfect environment for vulnerability cultivate itself into homesickness.
The English setting wasn't particularly kind to my wave of homesickness: outside the ice was malicious, the sky was colourless and the sun was nowhere to be found. Even the moon took a few nights off for good measure. But now that my ill temperament has been set aside, I've given the English climate a chance. The temperature isn't much of a bother anymore. I've become accustomed to walking around in dresses and tights (with a coat), despite the snow-worthy temperatures (it snowed just this Monday, according to my flat mate). I'm also easing into the local style of heels-over-cobblestone, as clumsy as I can be.
I've reasoned that the answer to why my English flat mates don't smile all that often is the drab weather. It's terribly grey. But it's a different kind of grey. There's no rain or fog or anything that resembles separate clouds. It's a static, motionless grey, sort of lifeless at times. For someone that's always known she's blessed to have California sunshine, the contrast here makes me feel like I've taken it for granted all my life. Here, one can go days without seeing the sun, something I can barely cope with. Last week, I definitely felt the lack of sun take its toll on my emotions. I know I'm not a person of overly-sunny-dispositions, but the darkness of day was a lot like a Doc Marten taking a good kick at my soul. If you ever see an episode where Spongebob is dehydrated, you have an idea of how I feel when the sun decides to disappear for ridiculously long periods of time.
Three, and now potentially four, students in my program have decided to take early leaves of their study abroad for various reasons. Whatever their motives, I respect their decisions as they have their own paths to tread. I'm not nearly about to cut my year short, but I determined a few weeks ago that England is not the place to permanently move to for me. I've mentioned the limited types of cuisine and the climate, but it's not simply that. I love England. I do. Its people are incredibly polite; their sarcasm is riveting, the land is green, its history is immense. It's part of and extremely close to Europe. The possibilities of travel are endless. However, I can't help but look back at the eagerness and curiousness of Americans, the cultural and ethnic mixes, the open and carefree attitudes. Neither countries are perfect, this is all too true, but my heart forever beats to the rhythm of the lapping waves, the pulse of the right-side traffic, and the cadence of the pursuit of happiness.
To be honest, I don't generally blog about these things to avoid the unnecessary worry I could be causing others, but nonetheless I appreciate the concern and prayers for my well-being. I can't tell people enough how appreciative I am to have people care about me. Thank you.:)
