“The whole object of travel is
not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one’s own country
as a foreign land.” (G.K. Chesterton)
Quite possibly exactly one year
ago, this quotation was presented to us during orientation at JYM. Bright eyed
and ready to begin what ended up being the most amazing consecutive ten months
of my life, I was fascinated by this quotation – I was excited to see how I
would change during the year and wondered just how foreign the US would seem to
me after ten months. I did what I do with all quotations that resonate with me
– I wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget it – and hung it up on the still too
bare wall of my little StuStadt apartment that by the end of the year was
filled with souvenirs and postcards from loving friends and family. Once and a
while it would catch my eye among all my other decorations, and I would feel a
little rush of excitement in anticipation of that day that I would set foot
back in my home country and see what it looked like, ten months later.
Fast forward to July 23, 2015 – the day that I had to pass through two
security checkpoints and passport control to board the plane for Boston.
Looking around as I lounged on one of Munich airport’s luxurious, insanely
comfortable chairs at the gate, I felt that same rush of excitement wash over
me. If all the security checkpoints weren’t signal enough that I was on my way
home to the good ole US of A, then the sneaker-clad, yoga pants/gym
shorts-wearing passengers certainly were. I couldn’t help but smile. After all,
I was heading back to the land where I could
wear yoga pants in public without falling victim to the stares of strangers –
what could be better? The 8 hour long plane ride was surreal. I couldn’t
comprehend that that plane was bringing me to the open arms of my family – some
of which I had not seen in nearly seven months – and not to some other European
country as the other planes I had recently been on had done.
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| I was so happy to be back home in Boston with the fam! |
I can’t say that the past two months of re-integration have been easy. It’s
been rough going through German bread, beer, and pretzel withdrawals. After
seeing the Bavarian flag hanging in a bar in Boston, I asked the bar tender,
filled with hope and excitement, if they had Bavarian beer. They didn’t, and
thus lost major points in my book. If you are going to hang up a Bavarian flag
in your bar, you better have Bavarian beer. When I’m out and about and hunger
strikes, I crave fresh, salty Bavarian pretzels – I really miss having bakeries
on every street corner where I can oder eine
Breze, bitte! Pretzel thins from the coffee shop in the library just don’t
cut it. (But hey, at least I can eat, drink, talk, and carry my backpack in the
library now.)
Grocery stores have also been a struggle for me. The night I got home,
after eating the mint and cookies Kimball’s ice cream I not-so-discreetly
requested be on hand for my arrival, my mom asked if I wanted to go to the
grocery store. I looked at the clock, and seeing it was already 8:15pm – and
already dark! – I furrowed my brow in confusion. How could we possibly go to
the grocery store at 8:15pm? Wasn’t it already closed? Then I remembered I was
in the US again, where stores are, in fact, open until 9pm or even 10pm. When I
did eventually walk into Market Basket for the first time in a year a few days
later, I felt like Buddy in Elf when
he walks into a non-North Pole bathroom for the first time and shouts to his
neighbor in the stall next to him, “Hey! Have you seen the size of these
toilets? They’re GINORMOUS!” I kind of felt like shouting the same thing about
American grocery stores – “Hey, have you seen the size of these grocery stores?
These are ginormous.” It’s really
amazing how applicable that movie is to everyday life, don’t you think? But,
because I was in state of shock, instead of quoting my favorite movie, I
gripped my brother’s arm, fear in my eyes, like a child clings to their parent’s
arm on the first day of preschool. The cheese section was one of the worst
offenders, second only to the mile-long chip aisle. I stood in front of the pre-packaged
shredded cheese display – there were probably about 30 varieties of shredded
cheese – and gawked for a solid minute, pointing at it, nervously laughing at the
ridiculousness of it, desperately trying to collect myself. Thank goodness for
my supportive brother, who simply patiently smiled during the episode.
While all those semi-superficial struggles have made the adjustment to life back in the US a bit hard, I kid
about them being the difficulties that have made the past two months what I
would call not exactly a walk in the park. In fact, the past two months have been
quite the opposite. It’s been an emotional rollercoaster – one that I think,
and hope, is slowly, finally pulling back into loading dock so I can climb off,
find my balance, and be grounded at UNH. See, coming home to Westford was for
the most part fine – great, even! I was finally reunited with my family whom I
dearly missed and went back to work at Kimball’s – the place I have been
working at for years and is basically my second home in the summer. Everything
was pretty hunky-dory, to quote my sixth grade English teacher. (How that word just
popped up in my mind I don’t know. Thanks, brain, for finally helping me
remember interesting English words.)
The adjustment at UNH, however, was another story. I hadn’t been on
campus since May 2014, which meant that I hadn’t attended classes at UNH in
over a year. My brain was fried from having just taken finals in Germany
mid-July, and I felt I was at a serious disadvantage since my peers had just
gotten back from three restful months of break. The school system is so
different here too, and that was a shock. Suddenly, I was expected to attend
classes two or three days a week instead of once a week like in Germany, do what
felt like an exorbitant amount of reading for most of those classes, and write
academic papers in English. That last one was particularly difficult – I have
been struggling to find the right words and English sentence structures after
having done all my academic work in German this past year. I felt completely durcheinander (flustered, confused,
upside-down). The denglisch nature of
this sentence perfectly portrays the state of utter confusion I was feeling in
the initial weeks at UNH. I even completely missed a reading assignment for one
class (when something like that happens, I know something is seriously wrong),
and I was flying by the seat of my pants to complete the assignments I did remember to do, waking up at 6am a
few times to complete assignments due by 11am. There were multiple moments in these past few
weeks when I wondered if I would ever fit in at UNH again and have it feel like
home. After some encouraging words by a professor who had been through the same
thing as an undergraduate though, I knew I would find my rhythm again. It’s
amazing – as soon as I heard someone who had been through a similar experience say
that it would get better, I felt better.
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| The roomies - senior year here we come! |
I think it’s safe to say that I did really did set foot on my own
country as a foreign land after spending ten months away, and that’s pretty
cool. But it was sometimes cool in a non-fun way. Two months later, things
really are looking up though and I think this is the perfect time to wrap up this
blog and move on to the next chapter of life. I now live in a luxuriously
large, homey apartment on campus with three supportive, sweet roommates (shout
out to my roommate who works at Housing for getting us what is probably the
best apartment in the building). I have the privilege of sharing my study
abroad experience with other students and help them make their dreams of
studying abroad a reality as a Global Ambassador for the Center for
International Education at UNH. And, to top it all off, I also get to help an international
student at UNH feel welcome here in the US as a buddy with the Buddies without
Borders program. I hope I can make her experience here as wonderful as mine was
in Munich thanks to my two awesome conversation partners there (shout out to
Corinna and Florian). I truly believe, to quote one of my favorite transcendental
authors Emerson, that “to know that even one life has breathed easier because
you have lived… is to have succeeded” and that is what I hope to do for this
student. I even finally feel on top of my schoolwork – at least as much as one can
as a senior.
Two months ago I was in Munich and twelve months from now, who knows
where I will be. But that’s okay. I’m back home at UNH for now and it’s time to
focus on what’s ahead – not the year behind me. Munich will always hold a
special place in my heart, but UNH does too. I'll end with lyrics from a song that always makes me think of UNH and seems fitting to life right now:
"Hold on to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave (wave) is stringing us along
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home."
-Phillipp Phillipps Home
UNH finally feels
like home again and I am ready for an unforgettable senior year. Over and out!
