Home.

Well, here's the thing: I'm home. But then again, I'm not at home. I'm not even within 1,500 miles of home. Instead, I am in California, soaking up the sun everyday, with nothing that has a relationship to home except for the return of the English language into my life.


In Washington DC, I was torn away from my three days with my CBYX group by my mom, my sister Tori, and her boyfriend (Dustin). Upon seeing them, I was initially slightly annoyed that they had taken me away early from the groups of exchange students, cutting all of my goodbyes short. I looked at my mom in the front seat of the rental car they had picked up in Tennessee. She smiled at me. The biggest smile stretched across her face! "Hi, honey!" Nothing about this felt strange or weird: she was my mom, and she was in the front seat, picking me up just like she had always done before. I had been gone for a year, and I never felt like I had left...


I traveled with my family upon my arrival and experienced America again: full blast. Driving through Washington DC, Philadelphia, New York City, Boston, Montreal, Toronto, and St. Louis with my family in the car, the same family that I hadn't seen in a year, got to be an overload at point, but it showed exactly how little had changed. Then I was at the New York City train station and telling my family what to do and reading the train plans. We were in Montreal, and I was trying to remember the few French phrases I knew from my day in Paris and random words from my friends. I sat in the front seat and glanced through the pages of the book that Louisa had handed me in the train station the morning I left, and I thought about my friends and life back in Germany. I might have felt like I never left at times, but then I felt an aching for the place that had also become my "own." 


I started to miss speaking German, the language that had tied my tongue and given me so much grief. I missed my friends and family there that had I had come to love after 10 months. I saw strangers in America and immediately started to form the "Sie" respective form in my head, so I could make a joke about their were no towels left, then I quickly remembered that English was probably their first language too. I woke up after dreaming in German and about my friends and family there, and my first words in the morning were in German. After not speaking for five minutes in the car, I would sit contemplative and not realize until I spoke again that I had been thinking in German.


I've been home over a month now, but I'm still not even home. I am studying Non-Euclidean Geometry at a summer program at Stanford in California. I was home for four days and squeezed in quick "hellos" to some and my brother's entire wedding, before grabbing my suitcases again and boarding yet another plane. The wedding was beautiful. The Texas weather was too warm. My friends and family haven't changed much; however, I feel like I have.

June 9th-13th

Berlin, Berlin!

“You guys are taking the Spanish test tomorrow!”

“Uhmm… You are too!”

“No, I’m not, because I’m going to be in Berlin.”

“… Lissa, sit still for more than five minutes.”

“Never.”

My end of the year exchange for my organization was in Berlin, so being that I lived as West as you possibly could get in Germany, it was a 6 hour train ride, meaning I had to miss school and my Spanish final. What a shame. J The beginning of the trip was the Cologne train station, where we all sat in our assigned seats and watched as another exchange student or two would board our train with the final destination of Berlin. We were loud. We were excited. We had to sit in the hallway to talk, so we wouldn’t annoy everyone.

Berlin was only 36 of us together from the original 45, and those 9 faces were very much missed. Looking around the table, which had changed since our mid-year seminar in Cologne (Köln), it reminded me of just how long this year had been. Sharing a room with Anne and Sara completed the year quite nicely, as we had shared our entire years with each other. Within minutes, all of the suitcases were opened, and even just our windowsill reminded me of why I loved Sara: hairspray, ironing spray, volume spray, deodorant, hairpins, and a brush were all at the ready. Anne looked at her clothes she had already put on the shelves, “What should I wear? Help!” Sara and I contemplated our week’s schedule and what would be best to wear when. Although my sleeping hours in that room were few, I loved having them as my roommates to end the year.

We went around Berlin and Potsdam as tourists with our tour guides being the students who had been lucky enough to live in Berlin or Potsdam. I think the photos can describe running around in the furious summer heat and the places we saw better than I could ever put into words. I’m showing you, not telling. (Other photos are on my Facebook page)

As part of our exchange, we met and thanked the people who gave us the scholarships: the German Bundestag. Early on Friday morning, we put on our make up with ironed skirts and squared ties with polished shoes. We sat through a Bundestag meeting in the morning in shock as people walked in late, interrupted other parties’ speeches with loud comments, and carried on full conversations with their neighbors during presentations. This was not the respect and working environment I expected in one of the world’s most governments. Exchange students prepared speeches, painted pictures, and one even played the bagpipes to show our thanks and appreciation. I thought about the Tango I was supposed to be dancing, which fell through. Afterwards, we followed our very young and enthusiastic American Ambassador to the Embassy across the street. After showing my passport, I experienced a little bit of culture shock: there was Dr. Pepper, American outlets, air conditioning, and bare feet on the grass. We were chilling in the embassy, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Later, I picked up my high heels and joined some friends, watching the beginning of the World Cup. After a year in Germany, soccer gained a new importance as the sport to watch.

Our last meeting of the weekend was the incoming of paper after paper: information for going home, flights, to-do lists, and advice from exchange alumni. The end was near. Instead of going home, I arranged a ticket to stay with another exchange student, Hannah, for another day in Berlin. Hannah showed me her personal favorites of the city and let me go back to all the places I had missed in our hurry of the previous days. To end of a tiring weekend, we picked up to pints of Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream and went to the movies for a good, laugh-out-loud, romantic comedy. Although I missed my train in the morning and was two hours late getting home, it was all nearing the end, and I was having trouble realizing the “lasts” that I might have missed. 

June 5th-6th

Pencils and Pink

The beginning of my weekend was a birthday trip to Netherlands with friends, a train ride to Cologne to Alex’s house, and then waking up early on Saturday morning for my SAT Subject Tests. I was taking them in Düsseldorf, a city I had never been in. I sat through three hours of German, Math, and Spanish. Grammar of two foreign languages ran through my head. I took the math test, while thinking in Germany and messing up the ever confusing decimals and commas that have different meanings in different languages. I filled in the bubbles on my scantron and turned in my test. Done with learning before I left.

Here's my ballet recital. I picked this center photo for you so you can see the MASS of glitter that I had everywhere. This was such a different recital than any other one I've ever been in. I got there early in the afternoon, got ready, and then had tons of time. Also, when we were getting ready, everything was so much more fun. We were throwing on tons of glitter and doing each other's make up. Plus, my insanely bright red "Burt's Bees" chapstick was LOVED. I felt more apart of everything than any other recital. I was important. I was given face paint and told to do make up. I laughed with the 8 year olds and got them ready to be mermaids with white and blue make up on half of their face: "So are you excited? Are you happy? Tired? Hungry?" I was just having fun, talking with them. Then I danced and although I knew it wasn't the best, I was sad that it was over. But I was quickly running downstairs and getting a group of 12 year olds ready to dance! They were excited, because I was from America. Then when they were ready, I went to back to the 8 year olds and talked and lead conversations and joked. All of the little girls were asking me how to say certain phrases in English then they would tell me, smiling: "You're funny." "You're pretty!" I smiled and said very pronounced: “Thank you!

May 29th

Paris, France

  

(I tried to write this blog a couple times with no success. Too many ideas.)

Bonjour.

The City of Lights.

Je t’aime.

Paris holds the key to my heart.

Au revior.

After a little over six hours sitting in the same bus, ten minutes in the car riding home, five minutes pulling out the second bed, and seconds of laying in my bed again, I went to turn off the alarm clock, because it was 6:00 AM on a Sunday morning: “Ugh, my alarm clock is about to go off again. Honestly, can you believe everything that’s happened since then?”

Around 23 hours and 36 minutes earlier, we were getting up slowly, excited for a day that I knew I would remember for a while. It would just be a day, but it was a day in Paris. I was on the bus at 8:00AM with Christel and Martin (my host parents), Jana (my host sister), the other Jana (my host sister’s friend), and Anne by my side.

Back in November, I remember visiting Anne in Jülich for the afternoon, and we plotted how to get to Paris. Anne was determined to go to Paris, and I was, truthfully, just determined to travel. So when my parents discussed planning a trip to Paris, I worked up the courage to ask if Anne could come too.

Driving there was as unpleasant as a six hour bus ride could be, but I kept looking over to Anne with tired eyes and pulling out the scary-excited smile: Paris! The bus ride was a killer, but seeing every highway sign with the word “PARIS” written above got my nerves jumping and me pinching myself to validate everything going on around me.

We drove more and more into the heart of the city. The older buildings all just looked so… Parisian. As our bus pulled in next to the Arc d’Triomphe, I could not believe anything that was going on. We were looking at the Arc d’Triomphe. It was right in front of us. There. Like, really there. I read the dates and took in all of the detailed statues, which commemorated the Revolution that I was used to studying in my German classroom *** miles away. The view behind us was just as beautiful: Avenue des Champs-Élysées, one of the most famous shopping streets in the world.

… The rest of the day, we saw some of the most beautiful things in Paris. I, literally, stared at the Eifel tour every three minutes just to see that it was really there. That was something that I had seen over and over again in movies and history books, and now it was there. We walked up the steps of a large, beautiful church and looked at Paris as the sun set on the city. We fought our way through the Paris subway system, keeping a hand on our purses the entire time. We peered through gates to see “The Thinker” statue at a museum. We laughed as we saw the real Moulin Rouge: yes ladies and gentlemen, it does exist. We gasped at the beauty of Notre Dame and laughed at our childhood memories of the hunchbacked bell ringer. At the end of the day, through the tired eyes, we were still running around singing, “Paris holds the key to your heart. Ooh la la.”

When it comes to French: A language that I don’t understand. I couldn’t discern words so there was a need, a desire to learn and interpret, to say the words back to people with the same elegance. It was another language to conquer, and I tried to use the words I knew, saying “merci” and “excuse moi” with the best accents I could muster. Paris was beautiful.

Has time ever really escaped you? Every second slips through your fingers? Minutes vanish before your eyes? Hours and days slink into the past?

So here’s the deal, I wanted to write. I really did want to write.  In fact, I was able to send my mom a quick email with photos at one point, and although I’m already back in America now (but not at home!) I want to talk about the end of my exchange then the beginning of being back.

 May 22nd-25th

Jena, Germany

   

  

For a long weekend in May, I visited another exchange student, Jordan. He lives in East Germany, what used to be known as the DDR(German Democratic Republic), which resembled nothing of a democracy. The DDR was the part of Germany taken over by the Soviet Union after World War II, so they were rebuilt with certain socialistic ideas. Jordan’s host parents were both well into their 60s and had lived in the DDR for their entire lives. I heard the stories about how they were members of the Protestant church (very against the political Party), having a Volkswagen Bug where the only car driven was a Trabbi (upper right photo), and the fear of saying what you thought, which could ruin your children’s lives. It was a really educational weekend, and I loved seeing how another exchange student lived.

Question Marks.

Nowadays, people rarely look at me for the answer. (With the exception of English class and, sometimes, Math.)

However, thirteen pairs of eyes were looking at me at this point. Every single pair was tense with anticipation and anxiety for the answer. I was sitting in a circle with just one of the groups of Germans taking exchanges next year to America. These kids were going to a range of places in America from Texas to New Jersey to Michigan, and they were looking to me for the answer.

Last weekend, I was in Köln (or Cologne) with my exchange organization AYUSA for three days back in that same old youth hostile from my mid-year seminar in January. I was there again with exchange students, but instead of getting the advice, I was now giving it out and holding the wealth of knowledge as a current exchange student and a real American.

There were questions that I could answer thoroughly though and give my perspective. I explained what a normal school day could be like and the situation of public transportation (they were shocked that there really is a yellow school bus). At one point, one of the girls countered me and told me how she heard that in America you had the same classes everyday. She was set on what she had heard, and immediately, I started to counter argue and point out how my school had the A-day/B-day system. Then I had to smile to myself when I thought about how I was that girl when I came to Germany: I knew the answers. Two of my sisters had done this, I have always been surrounded by exchange students, and I just knew what to expect. Despite knowing that, most of my exchange experience has caught me off-guard, but I was still glad to help these exchange students however I could.

“How long have you been here? When do you go home? … Wow.”

“Did you have homesickness? What’d you do?”

“What’s high school like? What’s the biggest different between school here and there?”

“I heard they don’t have [insert object name] in America, should I bring it?”

“Do you have your own bedroom here?”

“You’re from Texas, right? Do you have a gun?”

“Have you been homesick?”

“How much money do I need per month for spending money?”

“How often do you talk to your family in America?”

“So what’s homesickness like?”

“Is everything really cheaper in America?”

“Where have you been in America?”

“Do you know anything about [Insert host-city name here]?”

“I’m scared about getting homesick. Is it hard?”

“Was it hard making new friends here?”

“What was your first day of school like?”

I answered every question as well as I could, but with always a side note on there: “But that’s how it is for me, personally, it could also be like…” Hopefully whatever I said will help someone in the long run, but they’ll figure it out for themselves. I am sure of that.

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Okay, fine, Anne. I read your blog, and I guess that is something that I have been wanting to talk about. Inspiration? I think so.

Did you know I am actually pretty productive? Like I go and study (or I try to!) two times a week? I guess I just might have to convince you: Anne and I recently started this new routine where every Monday afternoon, both of us get out a period early so Anne gets on a bus to Aachen, and I run home to grab some food. A snack for two, which Anne reminds me of my weirdness considering I’ve showed up with fruit, shrimp kebabs, PB&J sandwiches, yogurt with spoons, and cookies. We eat outside on a park bench or on the grass, enjoying the good weather as we tell each other about our weekends and what we’ve missed.

Still talking, we take three escalators up to the very top floor where the subject matter changes to “Hey, is this the book we decided we liked?” “Were you finished with the Slang book?” “Make sure you grab both the dictionaries!” We both take our piles of books to a study carrel and pull out our notebooks before switching them. Then the sentences change again:

“Uhmmm… thorough?”

“Wait… give me a second! … Sorgfältig!”

“Hey, that was pretty good!”

“Yeah, I studied in the bus,” admitted with a sheepish smile.

“To look for, to long for”

“Sich sehnen!”

We go through our lists of vocabulary words, helping each other remember the more difficult ones and seeing how much we learned. Last week, we both sat there astounded at the impact of the words we had learned. How could people have used those words so many times, and I never thought twice about what it meant or questioned them? I thought I always understood everything, but I’ve heard this word at least 32 times today and I never knew it before? It’s pretty hard to imagine.

Then we do the next step: find more new words to learn. We pull out what is considered a “Basic Dictionary” and go through page by page, quizzing each other on new random words. If you don’t know the word, write it down and be expected to know it next week. Easy enough. Now, I can welcome a long list of new words into my vocabulary such as: großzügig, zart, heiter, sich sehnen. Words that I had heard so many times and never really thought about what they mean.

Plus, the best part of it all is to watch passerby-ers stop at the peculiarity of our conversation where we’ll switch from German to English 6 times in one sentence, not thinking twice about the fact that I just said “obwohl” and “ich denke” directly after “yesterday afternoon” and “great.”