The End of an Era and the Start of a New Year

Around this time, most people (in the West, at least) start getting really sentimental and try to say profound things about the year that's dying and the imminent birth of a new one. Usually, I couldn't care less. I might get a twinge of loss when I realize the symbolism, but it's never really been that much of a big deal for me. Life keeps on going, with new things to experience and things to forget, and no matter how you look at it, the past is in the past and you can't change it.

But there's something about this year coming to an end, my friends. This year my life changed in a way I never thought I would be blessed enough to experience. This year, I became an exchange student. I would be lying if I said that there wasn't a part of me that regrets the end of such a year. I'll never stop being an exchange student, even after I've gone back to the States. But I'll never get back to this point - the year that I became what I'll always be.

It's hard to put this feeling to words. I'm sitting here in my living room - the third living room I've called home this year. Music is playing - music I probably would never have picked in the States, and music that wouldn't have been playing in my first host family's house. But that music is in my ipod, and I've rocked out to it on the train in the last week. My host sister is playing monopoly on the wii, and my book and ipod are sitting on the coffee table. I just made some ramen-equivalent and I'm at home.

For the first time in my life, I wasn't with my family (my biological family) over Christmas. I didn't sing happy birthday to my mom and laugh at the cards that my aunts and uncles got her. I cried myself to sleep more times this year than any other year of my life. My heart has broken, and been pieced back together for more than one reason this year.

But, this year, I also flew across a ravine screaming in glee with my host mom, brother and sister right there with me. I stood on top of a mountain in the ruins of a thousand year old castle and looked out across the Rhine. I drank champagne on the banks of the Rhine. I introduced myself and gave a presentation about my home and family in German, after only a month of speaking the language. I climbed the Eiffel Tower with a girl I never would have met without Rotary. I walked through Versailles with a Turkish guy, a bunch of Brazilians, an Argentinian, and some Taiwanese girls. I saw and heard the Berliner Philharmoniker rehearse, and walked through one of the most beautiful parks in the world.

This calendar year is almost over. My exchange year is not. Sometimes it's hard to remember why I should stick it out. But then I think about the cello sitting in the other room, and the orchestra that I'll be joining the day after my birthday. I think about the Eurotrip, and going to Barcelona with my host family. I think about all the wonderful things that I've seen and done this year, and all the unbelievable stories I have to tell. Exchange is so much more than just living in another country for a year. This is the only way I can think to accurately describe and show this:

This was my life before exchange.

And this is my life after exchange happened to it.

You see, maybe my life is a little bit messier now, but it's certainly more colorful, and more interesting. :)

Happy New Year, everyone. :)

On the Courage of the Human Race

Though we may not all realize it, we all have courage. Sometimes we don't see it behind the fear and uncertainty, but courage is in every one of us. Whether it's the courage to stand up against something we think is wrong, or the courage to risk something dear to us to help someone else, we all have it. It's part of being human. In extreme conditions, courage is brought out of us in an extraordinary way.

An explanation as to how the idea for this post came into existence: I've been reading Connie Willis' Blackout. It's about Oxford University in 2060, after time travel has been invented. It focuses on a few of the 'historians' who do the actual time-traveling, particularly those working on assignments during World War II. One of my favorite points-of-view is that of the girl who is observing the attitudes of those who lived in London during the Blitz. She's posing as a shop-girl and does her observing in a small air-raid shelter under a church which she shares with a varied group of Londoners including a mother and her three children, the vicar of the church under which they're hiding, and an as-yet unnamed elderly man who seems to come from noble roots.

As I'm reading, I am continually struck by the courage of these people, who, although fictional, are inspired by the millions of people who did live in London during World War II. Everyone who payed any attention during history class knows that Hitler tried his hardest to take England. His plan was to invade and seize control of England through a series of calculated attacks on London from the air. What he hadn't anticipated was the courage and determination of the Londoners. His experience with Neville Chamberlain had obviously left him underestimating the Englishmen. You see, they had decided that Hitler was not going to be allowed to win his war, nor was he going to be allowed to take their homeland. So they worked together and built air-raid shelters and huddled in them every night - rich noblemen sitting beside their servants, neighbors who couldn't stand each other, complete strangers sharing food and comforting each other. And then there were the thousands who volunteered to risk their lives to make sure people knew where shelters were. They would patrol the streets during raids to guide people to safety. There were the people who manned the anti-aircraft guns, and the people who saved St. Paul Cathedral by entering the burning landmark to pass pails of water to put out the fires.

Although it's rarely thought of or mentioned, the German pilots definitely had courage too. They knew that the Englishmen had anti-aircraft weapons, and they knew that there was a chance that they were going to get shot down. More than 5,000 were either killed or wounded. This number is nothing compared to the 40,000 English civilians killed, but it's still a pretty big number. They knew the risks, but they did it anyway.

Continuing, think about the Germans who knowingly hid Jews during the Holocaust. They knew they would be killed if they were found out to have been harboring Jews, but they didn't think about that. Or if they did, they didn't let anyone else see it. They knew what they had to do, and they did it.

There was the Evacuation of Dunkirk, in which over 300,000 French and English soldiers were evacuated from the shores of France to escape the approaching force of Germans. Who did it? The primarily-civilian owners of about 800 "little boats" on the southeastern coast of Britain. They all banded together and crossed the Channel to France to save their countrymen. It took nine days - any of which might have been the day Hitler's forces arrived.

I realize that I'm on exchange in Germany and that this is a touchy topic. So is the Civil War in America, Apartheid in South Africa, Pol Pot in Cambodia. Every country on earth has a point in history they can look at and wish they didn't have to. It's part of being human. What we need to remember is that it's in the past, and that mistakes should be learned from. I can't speak for the South Africans or Cambodians, but I know that I am proud to be an American, even with the Civil War and the innumerable other mistakes in our past, and that I'm also exceedingly proud to be an exchange student in Germany and therefore (I hope) an honorary German.

I think I'm rather courageous too. No, I never risked my life to guide someone to safety with bombs falling all around. I didn't pilot a plane in any war, I never hid someone the government wanted to kill, I don't own a boat, nor did I use one to help soldiers escape from Dunkirk. I've never stood up against the government, and I've never saved a life at the risk of my own. I haven't done any of these things people would call courageous or heroic. But I did leave my home for a year without knowing anyone in the place that was bound to be my home. I decided to give up my ability to communicate so I could learn a new language and become a more aware person. It's not that it's not exactly on the same level, but to me, what I've done has required some amount of courage. It's impossible to go into a school of strangers speaking a strange language and not think that you're at least kind of doomed. I think that exchange students are a pretty brave part of the human race.

Atticus Finch from Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird said the following regarding courage: "It's knowing you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do."

I mean absolutely no offense by this post. If you are offended, I apologize greatly.

Clichés!! That Are Running Amuck!!! (Amuck, amuck, amuck!!)

The world is your oyster.


How many times have we heard that one? As many times as you told your parents whatever it is that made them believe you were an underachiever. I always thought it was stupid. As a matter of fact, I sort of still do...it's funny because that phrase totally just popped into my head as I was thinking about my blog. It was like, "Start your new post with me!!! Do it!!" Kind of like Donkey saying "Pick me! Pick me!" in Shrek...

But now that I'm an exchange student, that phrase is so darn applicable. I've been to Paris, I live in Berlin, I'm going to go to Barcelona, I'll be in Rome and Venice and Prague by the end of the year, maybe even London...the word literally is my oyster. If you're willing to call me a pearl, that is. I've seen so many things in the past three and a half months, and I'll be seeing so many more. It's blowing my mind how small the world is. My second host family's daughter is in my district, and I met a guy from Hungary who got really excited when he found out that I'm an American with my particular political views. My second host father's cousin or something is the current host father of one of the guys from my district who is living in Sweden. There's a guy in my Rotary club who works at the American Embassy and has met Condoleezza Rice, former President Bush and current President Obama...and there are so many other things that aren't popping into my head immediately. The world is my oyster.


Dreams do come true.

Umm...I live in Berlin. I'm learning the German language in the best way possible. I'm going to go to Barcelona, I've been to Paris, I'll be going to Rome and Venice and Prague. I live in Berlin. I'm an Exchange Student, for Pete's freaking sake. I know a lot of you readers know me (but as I found out by looking at my stats, there are some who I don't know, too) and have for quite a while. Especially my family will realize this, but I've wanted to be an exchange student since I knew what the combination of those two words in that context means. And ever since that vacation with my family eons ago, I've always wanted to come back to Germany. Here I am. In the capital of Germany. I have friends from around the world, I know how to say I Love Ponies in Portuguese. Okay, well...that last one hasn't exactly always been a dream of mine, but who can say that? Other than Portuguese and Brazilian people, I mean...

So yeah, dreams can come true. I happen to be an extremely lucky and extraordinarily blessed person who had one of her biggest dreams come true very early on in life. It gives me the confidence to go out and make all of my other dreams come true, too.


Hard work pays off.


Okay, this is probably one of those things you hate hearing. I know, sitting around and watching movies all day is very fun. (I know this one from experience, you can't argue with it. As if you'd want to...) But at the end of the day, all you did was sit around and watch a bunch of movies. But you gotta put in some effort, too. This one really ties into the last one - you can't make your dreams come true without hard work. And very rarely do dreams come true without you making them. I've been working toward my dream of doing an exchange before I even realized what I was doing. I worked hard in school (I could have worked harder, I'll admit it), I did a lot of extra-curricular activities. I didn't make (too many) stupid mistakes. I did my best to respect authority and obey the rules. And then there was all the effort that went into the application and making a good impression, smiling through headaches and wanting to punch people...

And if you've been reading this at all, you know that this year hasn't been all fun and games so far...and if you haven't been reading this at all....GO DO IT. Because it's awesome. :)

But really. Exchange is fun. But you can only get to the fun stuff after you've gone to school and given yourself a headache trying to understand, after going to Rotary meetings and smiling to all of the people you don't really know, and sitting there and trying not to fall asleep during the presentations that you can't understand no matter how hard you try. The fun comes between the waves of homesickness, the days when you wonder why you ever thought exchange was a good idea. So yeah. Hard work does pay off. It really does. I mean - I understood a German comedian the other day. Because I've been speaking German every freaking day for the past three and a half months. And I've made mistakes every other sentence I've said in German for those past three and a half months. The way I see it is that at least I'm providing comic relief to my host family. I mean, they can't tell me that it's not stressful to host an exchange student. I can bet they've all gotten sick of me at least once. Well, they say laughter is the best medicine....I'm sure as heck making them all laugh at my fumbling attempts to speak German.


You never know what you've got till it's gone.


Two words: SO TRUE. You don't know how wonderful those smothering mom hugs in very public places are until you can't have them. You don't realize how desperately you love the school that you hate because everyone knows everyone else until you go to school and don't know anyone. You can't know how wonderful that rumor everyone just spread about you is until you can't understand what they're saying about you. You can't know how welcome that feeling of oh-my-gosh-the-teacher-just-asked-me-a-question-and-I-don't-know-what-it-was can be until you can't understand anything, literally.


You really hate this term too. But go on exchange and you'll realize why it's said so doggone often.


Friends are forever.


Yes, yes. This is especially for you, Çinar.

Explanation time: I'm talking with my Turkish friend on facebook right now and he just started reading my blog and was shocked and very "angry" to learn that I had not put a picture of him on my blog. So here we go. I just hope that three pictures are an acceptable solution to the problem. :p (P.S. If you look really closely at the last one, you'll realize that his eyes aren't open...hehehehe)


Suck it up, Fluffy.


Okay, well, this one isn't really a cliché. But...it had to be mentioned. Immortalized. Written on the stone of the modern age.

This is another one of those ones that you learn to live by if you go on exchange. If you come from my family.

I'm leaving this post on this note as a friendly and loving shout-out (I hate that term) to my wonderful family who I love very much. I hope you guys have a wondertasticfantastamazing Thanksgiving. I can't wait to skype with you guys tomorrow. <3

I Write this from Behind an Impenetrable Wall...

I suppose the only redeeming fact that I can use to protect myself is that it has NOT been a full month since my last post...

Okay, well....since my last post....or rather, what I was going to say in what was supposed to have been my next post was that I love the Charité. Because it's an amazing research facility that is wonderful and let me come in and watch some of the work, to get an idea of what it's like to work in a lab. Well...let me put it this way - I think that I could definitely work in a lab. I have some photographic evidence of how awesome it is.

It's brain cells!!!! Neurons and astrocytes and all sorts of fantastic things that can be found in that thing that's allowing you to read this!!!! Isn't it fabulously pretty? You know what makes it (if it's even possible, that is) prettier??? I DID THAT. It was a histology staining, and I was the one that prepared that particular sample. And a whole tray full of them too!! I had such a great time there. 

Umm...I don't know really what happened between then and now...this is where you can all throw [virtual] rocks at me because if I had been a loyal and regular and really good blogger, then I would have posted before this and have remembered more and this post would be more than just two major events....

So I'm going to skip about three weeks into the future from that and go straight to......PARISREISE!!!

Yep. Every year, my district (of awesomeness) makes a trip to Paris. The City of Lights, The City of Love. As we found out, it also happens to be the City of Dirty, Sketchy Alleys Behind Your Hotel. But that's just an interesting smidgeon of information that really doesn't figure into the story all that much. CRAZY weekend. We left Thursday afternoon/evening around five. And when I say we, I mean 90 exchange students crammed onto two coach buses. If you've been reading closely, you'll be wondering, "90? I thought 1940 only had 60 or so? Is exchange impairing your math skills, Sarah?" To which I will reply that I never had any math skills. But yes, you're right. 1940 is only about sixty. But ParisReise is so freaking awesome that there were roughly 30 other kids from other districts (including one girl on exchange in ITALY) who came along with us.

We rolled into Paris around...gosh, I don't even remember....somewhere between 8 and 9 I'm going to say, on Friday morning. One bus went for food (not mine, of course...) while the other sat in the hotel and waited for rooms that were very reluctant to poof into existence. Eventually everything got sorted out and we all went for a walk - to the Metro station. Yes, 90 exchange students, clumped into many different circles, speaking many different languages (really, it was mostly just English, Spanish and Portuguese (there were about twenty Brazilians in the group)) standing around like bums (not really) in the Paris underground. This happened more times than I care to count. 

Off to the Louvre we went. 

Why yes, that is the Mona Lisa. 

That, however, is my favorite thing in the entire museum. Although that's probably not a very okay thing to say because I don't think I saw everything in the museum - it's kinda freaking GINORMOUS. But....it probably would still be my favorite thing in the museum if I saw everything. It's La Victoire de Samothrace. It's...amazing. Here's a closer picture of it. That I didn't take. 

It reminds me of a poem by Emily Brönte.

Hope, whose whisper would have given
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven,
Went, and ne'er returned again!

But in a totally opposite sort of way. I would love to say that I wrote a poetic response to that stanza with the statue in mind, but I didn't....but now I probably will tonight. There's something about standing there....I remember I was on the other side of the museum and I looked through the hall (as with so many big awesome museums, there are places where you can stand and see straight through to the other side) and saw it...I kind of stopped dead and had to go there to see it closer. I dragged the person I was with at that point along with me....there's a majestic strength that just...makes you want to lead the rebellion of a good cause or...something. It's a sort of Joan-of-Arc-y thing, I think...

Anyway...that was the biggest part of Friday. We did some other stuff too. Saturday was Versailles - I was superinsanelycrazilyfreakishly excited about Versailles. It was...not as superawesomeinsanelywonderful as I was thinking it was going to be. But we still had fun. :) 

[Fake] Planking fun. :)

Me, sitting on a wall in the gardens of Versailles. Probably the best part of that part of the trip. Beautiful day, great memory. 

Now, I know what you're all waiting for....I give you.......

THE EIFFEL TOWER!!! (Or, as my exhaustion-addled mouth/brain combination was wont to call it, the Tower of Paris...) This photo was taken....Saturday night. It was....beautiful. Now, in reality, the lights are yellow and the background is not black. I took some artistic liberties and had some fun with my iPhoto editor options. :) I like the way it turned out. 

Umm...so...those last two pictures? Yeah...I took those from INSIDE THE EIFFEL TOWER. Because one of my wonderful Finnish friends and I decided to burn some calories and save some money - by climbing the Eiffel Tower's 700 open-to-the-public steps. It was....there aren't words. I really can't think of appropriate words to describe the feeling. I mean....I was high. Off the surface of the earth, and on life. It was....insane. One of the best feelings in the world. Seriously, if you go to Paris, do not take the elevator. Even though you don't get to go all the way to the top...the feeling you get from seeing the view that you CLIMBED to is...priceless. 

This is my favorite view from the Tower. The photo of the tower at night? I took it from that open spot above the smaller pillars. Quite a view. We were all a little loopy on the view. 

This is the video I took of the organ at Notre Dame. The video is a little worthless, but I wanted the audio....it's not very good quality, but...gosh...it was beautiful. 

The first photo is the entire group in front of the Louvre (duh) and the second one is just a small group of us who ended up in the same place at the end of one of our free times in the vicinity of the Eiffel Tower. 

So...that's my big monster huge long post...I hope it's enough to make up for my recent inadequacies. Please, let it be. I love you all. <3

Oh. And I'm moving host families in less than a month. I'm excited, but a little sad because I love my current host family. <3

Don't Hate Me, Please...

Yes, I know. I've been an awful blogger. You have every right to hate me. But please, don't.

My word, but it's been a while. The last time I typed away was before the holidays. Well, the holidays have come...and gone. This is a very, very sad-making thing. Fall holidays are a beautiful thing, and the week after fall holidays is an exceedingly awful thing. I hate it. But first, I shall relate to you why fall holidays are so fantastamazingful thing.


Saturday morning, we all piled into the car and drove off to Bottrop. It took about six hours, and I have to admit that I got a wave of homesickness when we stopped at the rest stop, thinking about all the times I've stopped at rest stops with my parents on the way to my aunt and uncle's house. It was something I did not expect to result in a wave of homesickness, but somehow, the worst waves are always the ones that come from the things you least expect to inspire them.

On Sunday, we went to a strange park. It's like an amusement park, but there's no electricity. It's all powered by the forces of the earth (a bunch of huge slides that you go down on a carpet) or human energy (little bike/gokart things). I liked it, but I think I would have enjoyed it more if I were younger. It was a good day, all in all.

On Monday, we went to see more of my host parents' family, at a big family dinner, after which we went to a suburb of Bonn, where another one of my host mom's sisters lives. It's a beautiful town, absolutely gorgeous. There's this big old mountain with ruins on the top, and vineyards  spread over the side. It's like a quilt, with alternating squares of stripes. Absolutely gorgeous. The weather was great, and it reminded me of home. There was a magical feeling on top of the mountain, with the wind coming at you, able to see for miles around...

We also went down to the Rhine for a fire/picnic. The sun was setting, it was a brisk twilight, there was champagne, I was speaking German...it was amazing. I never would have thought that I would ever end up drinking champagne on the Rhine. Never. And here I am, having done it. It was amazing. I even have photographic proof.

I wish I had more photos of Drachenfels, but my camera decided to be stupid and die as SOON AS WE GOT TO THE TOP. grr. 

Hmm....my host parents and I went into Bonn the next day, which is a beautiful old city full of old buildings and cobbled streets and stores in corners and hidden behind and underneath gorgeous facades. Unfortunately, this also happened to be the day that I was being all stupid and mopey and homesick, so it could have been a lot better than it was. :/ 

And there ends the first week of my holidays, pretty much. I didn't do much the second part of that week, after we got home. As this post is already pretty long, and I have a feeling I'll be going on at more length about the second week of holidays, I will end this post here and pick up tomorrow or Friday. I only have one class tomorrow, so unless I go out and do something exciting, I will post again. :)

Good night, dear readers. Except for the fact that I'm the one going to sleep, but it's still afternoon for many of you....in which case, enjoy the rest of your day. :)

Amazing and Wonderful...Stuff

First off, hello to my dear and wonderful, loyal, fantastic readers. (I'm in a good mood. If you can't tell. ^_^)

Secondly, I suppose I should explain my title. I shall start where I left off.

The rest of last week went by rather boringly. Just a regular old Thursday-Friday kinda deal. English, art, chem, choir, drama (which is still epic and awesome by all definitions of the words), sleep, eating, etc. Then I went to a friend's birthday party which was quite enjoyable, except for the fact that, as with most social gatherings, I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING. Which kind of makes things that should be exceedingly enjoyable rather miserable. I mean, it gets to a point where the only thing you hate more than not understanding (which you hate A LOT) is when people stop talking to each other and try to talk to you, to attempt to explain why they all just laughed for five minutes straight. Yeah...that kinda sucks. Really, it was fun, though.

On Sunday, I went to Maur Park, the huge monster awesome flea market that lives on Sundays at Maur Park in Berlin. When I say huge, I mean huge. We walked for about two hours and I don't think we covered more than half of the whole park. I had success, though. In Berlin, one must have scarves. It is a requirement. You can't look like a Berliner if you don't wear a scarf at least one day out of the week. It's like aliens - you can't be one if you don't have a big green head. So, since the only scarf I had was black and beige and therefore didn't go with much, I had to get another one. I'd been hunting for about a week and a half, but couldn't make up my mind. Well, I'm glad I couldn't. I found a great stall with a massive amount of scarves, and for incredibly cheap, too. Now my only regret is that I didn't get more. I also got a really nice owl necklace that has a watch on the owl's belly. :) I love Maurpark.

After that, I ended up going to meet up with the other exchange students. This was (as it ever is) not as easy as it sounds. By the time I was in their vicinity, they were in front of Reichstag. Now, this shouldn't have caused much trouble, considering in front of Reichstag is a very large, open grassed area where you can see for quite a while. Identifying a group of loud multi-language-speaking teenagers shouldn't be too hard. Unless it's the day of the Berlin Marathon, and all the runners and their families and friends are hanging around drinking beer and there are fences and tents set up everywhere and you can't see farther than ten feet in front of you. Then it's hard. Luckily, I saw some of the group as they were headed up to Hauptbahnhof to get some food. And so passed a good day, with exchange students and döner and other Berlin-y things. :)

Monday rolled around with me waking up positively thrilled at the prospect of a five hour English exam. Yes, I realize that this is not really something to be hating on because yes, English is my native language. However, who would want to sit in a room taking a test (of any sort) when you could be eating chocolate or reading or talking to random people? Definitely not me. It's a good thing English is my native language, though, because I managed to finish the test in two and a half hours, go get some food and read for an hour before my next, and final class of the day.

I had decided in advance that I was going to go get bubble tea after my test as a reward to myself for taking a test in Germany. Even if it was an English test. So I went and got my bubble tea, and then I went shopping as a reward to myself for understanding my bio class. Yes, you read that right, I UNDERSTOOD MY BIO CLASS. I'm quite pleased. Now, when I say that I understood, I mean that I understood most of the class. I got the gist, what we were talking about, how things work in a very general sense. It might also be that I understood it because I remember the topic from when I took bio three years ago in the States, but there is something to be said that I could make the connection. Well, I ran into one of my friends from school (because yes, I do have friends from school now) at one of the stores and we had a very enjoyable couple hours shopping together. :)

My rather average Tuesday got very good when I came home to find an email from Pottermore saying that my account is open!! So I've been very angrily writing this blog post during the times when Pottermore is deciding to be stupid and unavailable...

Tomorrow is a Rotary meeting and helping out at the Cambridge English course my awesome English teacher teaches. I get out of the chemistry equivalent of the English test I took yesterday for the English class, and it also gets me out of one hour of my three hour art class at the end of the day. Should be a good day. :)

Until later, my wonderful, loyal, fantastic readers.

Ich liebe Pferdchen!!

Yes, I have been a horrible blogger of late. No, I have not forgotten you (as though it surely seems that way). Yes, I have been ridiculously busy. No, I'm not fluent in German yet.

Here's the deal, my peeps. I had a Rotary meeting. I told them the story of the lady who asked me about the bus to Potsdam that I answered in German. In German. I felt like an idiot, because I KNOW I got some cases horribly wrong. In any case, I had a Rotary meeting.

And then I had Thursday. And then I had Friday. And after school on Friday (well, half of school on Friday) I went to Neuruppin. :) I wouldn't have had enough time to come home and take care of everything and then go back into Berlin after my last class, so my host mum wrote me a note so I could get OUT of my last class. Well, when I got back to the train station, I thought I had my train all figured out. Big surprise, I didn't. Then I tried again, and didn't succeed again. Then I found a friend from school. And we tried and failed three more times to find a train that would get us to Hauptbahnhof in time. But then we succeeded and I got there and met the other Berliners and we went to Neuruppin!!

That's us at dinner Friday night. Lots of bread was consumed. And chocolate and candy and junk food. Here's proof:

And then we went into the city/town/clumpofbuildings that is Neuruppin on Saturday morning. We split up into the Spanish/German group and the English group. Two guesses on which one I was in. :) Well, much hanging out with awesome people and jumping from clump (of people) to clump, and I was sort of adopted by the Brazilians. Who are awesome and epic in every way. Apparently I have a very Brazilian personality. 

That is a photo of us. Of most of us. :/ Isadora is missing. 

Saturday was epic dancing and fun-having. In other words, I had a neckache that only went away yesterday because I incorrectly whipped my hair back and forth. And then Sunday morning rolled around and we had to go home. :( That was not a very happy moment. 

But now I'm back and I've gotten over the fact that I won't see everyone again until the PARIS TRIP. Which is in November. And a very long time on a bus. But it's PARIS with THE OTHER EXCHANGE STUDENTS. We kinda rock. All you other Deutschland inbounds....1940 kicks butt. Be warned. I'm actually having a wall war with the guy from Texas right now. It's pretty epic. 

Umm....I had a really fantastic weekend. And this weekend is gonna be pretty good too, I think. Drama on Friday night, hanging with amigos on Saturday, and then...maybe more hanging with amigos on Sunday? I don't know yet. I just know that I'm pretty darn busy. As a closing, I shall include a photo of the entirety of the inbounds to D1940. Because we rock your socks off. And ours. Proof? My socks were on two seconds ago, now they're not.

Oh. And the title: It means I love little horses, because that's the best translation I could do from the Portuguese "Buseda Capaluda" (I hope that's how it's spelled) which is the 1940 theme song. :)

Disinclined to Title

Well...it's past time I've posted again. I'm sorry it's been so long, but really, nothing very fascinating has been happening. I've been getting accustomed to my schedule - both my weekly and daily schedules. I've already detailed them, though, and don't really feel like doing it again.

My days of going to Frohnau after school for German lessons are dwindling, however. This is something I am glad to report. While I am learning a lot at my lessons, it's a rather tiring trek, especially after classes. It's about an hour from school, and then the trip back home to Kladow takes just about an hour and a half. I've seen quite a few interesting characters, though. It's fun to sit on public transportation and watch people. There are three categories, I've discovered - those who try too hard (these are the ones you want to turn away from but can't because it's so....something), those who don't try hard enough, and those who are blessed enough to not fall into either of these categories. I always take my book and ipod, though, so I'm never bored.

This weekend is the first inbound orientation, for which I am SUPER PSYCHED. We're all shipping off to Neuruppin, a town about forty minutes outside of Berlin and are gonna be there for whole weekend and drive those people CRAZY. That's pretty much what happens any time a group of exchange students get together. Three of us on the U-Bahn results in angry looks and contemptuous glances. Imagine what will happen when fifty-odd 15-18 year olds descend on an innocent town? I can bet it's gonna be epic. Apparently we have to do something that's...our own? Like, playing an instrument or whatever. Well, since I don't have a cello and haven't played in eons (sadface) and I'm pretty much not good at anything else in that realm of possibilities, I'm going to perform a monologue.

Yep, I'm gonna kick some serious butt with some Moliere. This is the monologue I put together last year for auditions using pieces of dialogue from various characters from Moliere's The Misanthrope. It is the first monologue I have ever liked enough to remember enough of it that I don't have to start from scratch if I want to perform it again. I LOVE this monologue. It is the perfect monologue. It's not too long, not too short, extremely versatile, ambiguous in a gender-sense, and timeless. Well, there are a couple references that sort of hearken to the times of lords and ladies, but it is amazing. I think I could probably come up with five different ways to perform it. An identifiable but not glaring beginning, middle and end allow for a perfect transition in emotion that allow for a great range to be expressed. I am really excited to perform it again. Really, really excited. I recited it on the way from the Frohnau station to my counselor's house (his wife is my teacher). It's a really nice piece that also allows for a little bit of...anger management. A couple lines are very condescending. :)

Tomorrow I have a Rotary meeting. Which means getting all dressed up and pretty and then going to three hours of art (wearing heels, might I add) and then going back to the U-bahn station and then get off five stops later, and then try and find my way to a place I've never been. In heels. It's gonna be great. :) I think the heels are going to go for a ride and then get put on right outside the hotel. haha.

Well...gotta do some homework. Bis später. :)

They Never Told Us This...

It's going to be hard. They did tell us this. But the never told us what little things are going to make it so darn hard. I miss my clothes at home - I just want to be able to shrug into my drama jacket with the masks on the front and zip it up against the cold, and remember all the great times with the crazy people I called my troupe. I miss my trusty old history club tshirts that had memories of midnight Apples to Apples parties and unfortunate debate arguments. I want my Washington DC hoodie, with its strange and unidentifiable stain on the shoulder, but its warm soft fuzzy inside that was guaranteed to keep me warm on a freezing cold...August? day. I miss my shoes and socks and hoodies and tshirts...

I miss not understanding a class because the material was new, instead of the language the material was presented in...I really miss hugs from my mom and dad. I miss walking in the door and being assaulted by my dogs. I miss knowing people at school....

But I'm getting better. Sometimes all of this stuff will just come at me at once, and I won't be able to think of the things that I know are good. I won't be able to remember them because of the impenetrable wall of unhappy things coming at me. I'm making friends at school. Slowly, but I am. There's a girl in my choir class who is really nice. We're going out for Chinese next week, because she doesn't have classes and a I have a four hour break. I'm beginning to recognize people. Today, while I was sitting on the U-Bahn wall waiting for the bus, a couple girls from school recognized me and waved.

I think that all of these bad things are coming at me so often because I'm so busy that when I have the time to sit down and think the things that come first are the things that I'm missing. Three days a week, I get up at eight o'clock, get ready for school, sit on a bus for forty minutes, walk the 500 or so meters to school, sit in classes I don't understand, and then get on a bus for an hour, and then get on a train for fifteen, and then walk a kilometer to my German lesson, then go back home. It's, as unlikely and impossible as it seems, a rather exhausting day. One more day out of the week, I have class from eight until eleven thirty, at which point I can come home for four hours before going back to school for a three hour art class. I am not the best artist in the world. In fact, I'm probably among the worst. On a good day, I can draw a stick figure and people will recognize it as such. But...somehow, and I don't know how this is, I'm kind of enjoying that class. The teacher calls all of the stuff I draw "rather good, not quite good, but rather good." I can tell he's not massively impressed, but I'm hoping that he recognizes the fact that I'm trying. He's really funny and a very smile-y guy, but he smokes and you can smell it on him all the time.

I'm really enjoying my exchange so far. I really am. But with all of the things I'm doing, with all of the work that I'm doing, it gets hard to remember the good things. And with so much stuff to do for school, or German, it's hard to meet up with my friends, something I desperately want to do. Hopefully, I'll get more used to the schedule within a week, get less exhausted and be able to meet up with them. And then, there's always the fact that in less than a month, I won't be going to Frohnau three times a week. That is one good thing that I will NOT be forgetting anytime soon, I can assure you.

So, from my place in my city, I'm wishing all of you who are reading my blog in your place, in your city, a good night and an even better day to come.

Dear Grampa,

So...Grampa, I hear you're reading this every morning?? I'm sorry I haven't been updating every day!! But really, my individual days aren't that cool. I mostly get on a bus and go for half an hour and then sit in classes I don't understand, talk to some people between classes, and then get on a bus and come home. :p

I'm slowly (very, very) becoming used to my school. After standing in the hall where I though bio was for twenty minutes and not seeing anyone in my class or the teacher, I figured out that I hadn't been told that that class (like too many others) changes according to the day. After asking one of the younger kids I saw in the hall (and getting laughed at because of my German...), I went to the secretary and told her that I didn't know where my class was. We went back up to the hall where I had been, asked one of the teachers and then I followed the secretary down to a hall I had never seen before, and found my class. I felt like an idiot, walking in in the middle of a lecture. I was very, very, very happy, though, when the teacher started pulling out microscopes. Finally, something I know about!!! I was even happier (if it can be believed) when she handed out slides. I immediately started adjusting my microscope, trying to find the best focus on the leaves of Elodea that had been freshly plucked from the plant. When I found it, I will admit that I was quite taken by the beauty of something I managed to do for myself in Germany, and in a science class, too. And then, the girls sitting next to me had trouble finding theirs, so I helped them. That felt really good, too.

Today was the first day of classes that I had already experienced, so hopefully that little room-mix up won't happen again.

Yesterday, in addition to being in love with a microscope, I drew!! I drew a walnut in art class!!! Something I haven't done (drawing, not specifically a walnut) in four years!! And I didn't fail completely!! Or so I think....the teacher didn't seem to be too impressed. But I'm very proud of myself.

Today, after my double English, I went to Frohnau for a lesson, but first I did a little shopping. See, I haven't had one folder, and only two notebooks, for all of my classes, for the last week. So it was high time I got some supplies. School shopping, one of my favorite things in the world!! But things in Germany are very strange...instead of folders, there are.....I don't even know how to describe them...little document files, but with two prongs and a transparent front, with a colored back. Well, paper here is different too. It's...thinner, or so it feels to me. And there are FOUR HOLES. And then you put it in the...files, I think they call them, by putting the prong through the middle two holes. It's very strange, to me. But I needed some of these strange school supplies, so I went to Karstadt and got some. While I was there, I happened upon a shelf full of PURSES ON SALE!!!!

For those of you not here, or in regular contact with me, you need to know that here, girls bring very large handbags to school instead of backpacks. This happens in the States, too, but here it's rather rare to find a girl carrying a backpack to school. And, my purse isn't that great for day trips, either. If you are going on a trip to the city, even for a couple hours, there are a few things you need to have with you: ipod (for music on the bus/train/U-Bahn, and for the German dictionary in case of language emergencies), book (bus/train/U-Bahn), bottle of water (or juice), food, wallet (duh), hand sanitizer, and anything else you might desire. Well, my purse is wonderful and I love it, but it's a tight fit for all of the things mentioned above. A really tight fit.

All that discussed, I've been looking for a new purse since school started. Well, I came upon success today at Karstadt. :) I found a really cute, rather large, muted grey-beige bag with just enough structure to not look like a big sack and, as it developed when I got home, the PERFECT size. It takes even my fullest day at school (this one's a little tight, though), my wallet, my Kindle, my ipod, my handy (cell phone for all you Americans), my German work, my lunch and a bottle of water!!! And, even though it was a little over my budget of 20€, ringing in at just about 27€!! I'm very pleased with my purchase, especially considering the fact that I did all of my considering with one hand full of two notebooks, five files, a bottle of apple soda (yes, you Americans, apple soda. It's amazing. I don't know how I'm going to survive without it when I come back.) and a piece of bread. I was standing there like an idiot, flopping this bag around with one hand, trying to see if the notebooks would fit.

All in all, it was a good day. I didn't get lost on any transit, I caught all my buses, I managed to evade the creepy old homeless guy who sits and drinks and smokes in the bus shelter at the bus stop near my school, I drank apple soda, ate marzipan cake, only had two hours of school...yep. Good day. Oh, and did I mention that I have Drama tomorrow?? I do!!!

P.S. I'm sorry that turned into a long rant that was easily identifiable as that of a teenage girl, Grampa. :)

You Think It's Hard Going to School......

Think again. Until you've gone to school that's taught in another language, you cannot complain.

I woke up at six thirty this morning so I could be at school at eight o'clock today. I freaked a little bit because my bus from Rathaus Spandau to school was running a little late, and then when it finally did arrive, it was so packed I could barely find room to stand. I managed to get to school in time, and then got to spend some good quality time in the halls, looking for my art class. After wandering in what I suspected was the right area for a few minutes, I came across a case full of....MASKS. Art-y enough? I went in, sat down and looked around confusedly for a few minutes, until a teacher came in, looked at me pointedly and I got up and told him (in German) that I'm the exchange student, and have only a little German. "There are two art classes, and I think that you are in the other one." He pointed me through a little adjoining office/supply room, to the other class. I walk in, find a seat next to a girl I recognized from the previous day. The teacher comes in and starts talking. And then a girl from the row in front of me moves back to the seat next to me. And the teacher is still talking, and I still (big surprise) have no clue what he's saying. Then he stops talking and the girl next to me says, "He wants us to..umm.....I think, analyze? the painting." It turns out that she had spent a year in Nebraska and was going to be my translator, of a sort. I've been assigned one in every class. Well, we analyzed the painting and then the teacher went back to the front of the room and started talking again. There were many times when it seemed like he was talking to me, specifically. He would say something, do some sort of...comic portrayal of what he had said, I suppose, and then everyone in the class would start laughing. Although I know and realize that it's not the case, it seemed to me like he was saying something to or about me and then everyone would laugh about it. Like I said, I realize this isn't true, but....when you don't have the slightest clue what's going on, and he's looking right at you and then everyone starts laughing.....it sure seems like it.

And then the other teacher came in and said something and everyone started leaving the room, but leaving their things there....cue confusion. Oh wait. You don't need to cue it because it never left. I get up and follow, and there's a photographer. Turns out it was picture day. The photographer says a bunch of stuff, and then everyone starts doing...what he said to do. I stand patiently in the back, trying to be invisible. And then when everyone else was done, the photographer looked at me and then said something in rapid-fire German. *looks around "Was?" The teacher: "Take a picture!!" The photographer: "You speak English?" Me: "Ich bin Austauschstudentin aus Amerika...." Photographer: "Write your name here." *writes name Photographer: "Hold that and smile." *smile "Sit there, no don't stand, sit there and smile." *smile

And then we went back to the art room, and the teacher talked for a while more. Let me tell you something about sitting in a class and not understanding a word of the lecture. It's very tiring, because you're trying to understand the lecture, but no matter how hard you try, you can't suddenly understand. So even though you know you're not going to understand it, you listen to every word, with the hope that you might understand a word. Not five words, or a sentence, not even a phrase, just one word. So you expend all of your energy listening, and getting nothing out of it, except for maybe one word every ten minutes, or maybe there's a word you keep hearing, so you look it up, but then you don't hear it anymore. Recognizing a word is, at the same time, the most wonderful and awful part of not knowing what's going on. The excitement and pride is there, but it's accompanied by the realization that you've been sitting there for an hour, and understood maybe five words.

Chem was next. This was good. When I found the room, I was very happy. The teacher seemed very nice, and as I sat there, I learned that he's very funny as well. No, I could not understand why he was funny, but I could tell that he was. I found myself laughing, even though I didn't know what I was laughing at. This was a welcome change from the art class. And I understood things, I recognized things on the board. I spent so much of my time last year thinking about chemistry, that thinking about it again was almost like I was...home, in a way. I mean, I still had no clue what they were talking about, and what the homework was, but there was a periodic table on the wall, and there were burettes and erlenmeyer flasks and we did a lab with pH. All of these things are so familiar to me, it was a very comforting thing, being there after art, which was so foreign. For all my lack of tangible, present understanding, being in that chem room provided enough understanding so that I could relax.

Choir was after chem and a fifteen or so minute break. All the students mill around in the lobby/foyer/whatever during breaks, so I went down with the girl who had been assigned as my "translator" during chem. Of course, I lost her, but some of the girls who I had spoken with yesterday found me, and it turns out they're in choir too, so I went with them, across the street and to the choir room. Choir is choir. Another relief, though not as...glaring as chem.

And then, finally, it was time to go home. As always, by the time I was at the bus stop waiting for the 135, the döner stand was calling my name, today in a most vicious manner. For those of you who don't know, döner is one of the most amazing parts of living in Berlin. No dirty-water-hot-dogs for us, we get lean beef with lettuce, onions, red cabbage, tomatoes, cucumbers, yogurt sauce all in a warm, crispy pita bread. Once you've had your first, you'll never go back. They're sooooooooooooooo good. And the 135 is often slow....meaning I'm sitting there, starving, being taunted by the neon lights of the Kaplan sign.....darn you döner, for being so good and tempting. Somehow, I managed to resist and finished my lunch on the bus. When I got home, my host mom had made delicious fried chicken and amazing cheesy potatoes and brocoli and I pigged out. I was soooo hungry, and it was soooooo good. I love my host mom. :)


Today was also drama club!! For those of you who really know me, you know that this is kind of....super monster huge big and important and exciting. I was a little nervous, though. It's just a little hard to act in a language you don't know...but Carlo came with me, and we got to the school, and I was nervous and a little confused (as always...) but we found the group, and it seemed to me like it was NOT going to work. There were a bunch of them who were very close, and it seemed like they weren't exactly open to new friends. But I was very wrong. When we got to the room and settled in, and started off with an icebreaker, everything flowed very well. We were messing each other up and laughing, making faces at each other...it was good. I can't really tell everything, because we were there for two hours and it was a full two hours.

All I can say is, after this morning at school, I was really worried. I'm not anymore. I'm feeling really good because I've got something to look forward to every week. I have friends, and I have my favorite thing back. I'm on exchange in Berlin, Germany, I have an amazing fantastic host family, my family in the States loves me and is thinking about me (and I'm thinking about you, too. <3), I'm learning German, and I have a drama club again. I have a stage again, I've got a family here and in the States. I've got friends. It's going to be hard, no doubt, but I've got what I need to make it through anything.

Sarah's [Mis]Adventures in BVG-Land

Today was...interesting. To say the least.

The original plan was to go visit another exchange student at his house, just across the border in Brandenburg. Then I got a call that the plan had been changed, and we were going to meet in Friedrichstraße, one of the big transit stations in Berlin. There are three different levels - the S Bahn on top, with about twelve tracks; the main level with all the shops and maps; and the U Bahn station in the basement. I stayed on the first two levels.

Well, I got to Friedrichstraße about ten minutes before we were going to meet up. Since I was hungry and thirsty, I went to a market and got some bread, water (bubbly, of course) and gummi bears because.....well...do I really need a reason to get gummi bears in Berlin? By the time I was out of the market, it was the time we were planning on meeting. So I wandered around the station. And I wandered around the station. And then I called one of them. But apparently I had the wrong number, because my phone yelled at me in German. And then I wandered some more. And a little bit more. And, just for the heck of it, I wandered around a bit longer.

Well, at about ten to three, I realized that I had probably missed them, and that they had probably had the good sense to leave without me. So I decided that I would just get the next train back to Spandau. All was good, except for the fact that the next train to Spandau left in twenty minutes, and that I had missed the last train by seven minutes. But it was alright, because I had my ipod and my German vocabulary quiz app on my touch. So I'm sitting on the platform, after looking five different times at the timetable to be absolutely sure that I would not miss the train.

Well, come five minutes before the train is scheduled to leave, I look at the departure board and it does not say Spandau. Needless to say, I was freaking out a little. Until I looked across the station and saw the Spandau train leaving from another platform. Now, I was cursing. In English. Under my breath. Since I didn't want to stay in Berlin, much less Friedrichstraße, much longer, I decided to ask one of the policemen to help me.

Now, this is where I'll mention that when I first got to the station and started my RYES-quest, I had seen a whole bunch of policemen in a huddle in front of the Berlin souvenir shop. This made me wonder a little, but I passed it off as nothing important. However, when I was searching, I passed the same place multiple times, and therefore the same policemen multiple times. On my fifth or so tour of the station, I was starting to worry that they were going to peg me as suspicious and start yelling at me in German. Luckily, that did not happen.

So I went down the stairs and was making my way to one of the policemen when I saw the BVG Service desk. This seemed a more logical place to ask a question about trains than policemen. "Sprechen Sie English?" "Ein bißchein." "I need to get to Spandau, and I think I just missed the train, but I don't know why, because I was at the right platform but the announcements were saying Spandau but they were in German and I don't know German and when I looked the train was on a different platform and I don't know why and I need to get to Spandau." *looks at departures board "Go up those stairs. The train to Nauen is the next train." *goes up the stairs that I just came down, muttering all the while

So I sit on a bench on the platform for five more minutes. At one point, I got up to look at the clock (the BVG time is different than the time on my ipod) and when I turned around, an old guy had taken my seat, and then patted the seat next to him....it was a little creepy. I sat down on the very very edge of the bench and held my purse very tightly.

Well, the train came. It was an Express, which means (for those of you in Sherman who don't know much about public transportation....oh wait...that's me...hmm.....) that it goes on the same track as the city trains, but it doesn't stop as often, so it goes faster. Well, I had no choice but that train, even though I remembered my host mom saying a few days ago, "Don't take the big trains, they are very expensive." Did I mention that the express trains have two levels? Yeah. They're bigger than the regular city trains. But I didn't want to look at the timetable again because of how it had turned out the last time I had done that, and I was not going to sit around in Friedrichstraße station for another hour, so I took the train. Lalalalalalalalala, sitting on the train going to Nauen via Hauptbanhof, Zoologischer Garten, Charlottenburg and SPANDAU. And then I look out the window and don't recognize anything. Cue heart attack. The fact that I had only been on the train for twenty minutes and even Expresses don't go to that fast. And then someone in a uniform came around and people were pulling out their tickets.....I told you about the whole don't-take-the-big-trains-they're-expensive thing, didn't I? Cue stroke. I pulled out my transit card with my unsmiling, ponytailed self glaring out and showed it to the uniformed woman, hoping and praying that she would smile and move on. She did. I don't think I can tell you how relieved I was to not have to pull out my wallet and hand over some exorbitant amount of money. But not, I don't think, as relieved as I was when I recognized Spandau station and that we were slowing down.

Off the train, down the stairs, past the Dunkin Donuts, across the street with the Rathaus on the other side, up to the bus stops, read the bus' doodad, read the bus' doodad, read the bus' doodad THAT'S MY BUS!!!, run, run, run Wait, why aren't people getting on? Oh, because it's not at an actual stop. lalalalalalala MY BUS IS LEAVING??? WHAT THE HECK??? NO!!!!! Oh. It's just pulling around that bus to an actual stop. Pull out card. Get on bus. Find seat. Sit in seat. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Almost there. Wait. Wait. Push stop button. Get off bus. Walk down street. Home!!! Pull out key. Insert in door. Turn key. Turn key. Why isn't the door opening?? Turn key. Turn key. Still not opening.....ring doorbell. Carlo opens door. Thank everything.

I managed to make it home. And that's where I am now. It was a harrowing day. But now, looking back on it....best. freaking. day. This is why I wanted Berlin. So I could go to museums, see the Berlin Wall (which is what we were going to do today, that I did NOT get to do...haha), use public transportation (of course, when I was imagining this, I didn't think it was going to be quite so interesting.) and that's what I got to do today. Use public transportation. I might be complaining that I had lost an entire day to that trip to my house, but the way I'm choosing to look at it is as follows: I might as well get as much use out of that 27 euros as I can, right???

Drei Tage. :)

I've been here for....two days? Yeah...I've been here for two days, today is my third. And it's Mittwoch!! (My favorite day of the week....because how much fun is it to say Mittwoch?? Very!!) And now I have to decide whether I want to go shopping with my host brother and his friend, and use my metro card for the FIRST TIME (because now I can use the transportation because I HAVE A METROCARD!!) or whether I want to go with my host mum and host sister to a zoo. I don't know!! It's hard, not knowing what's being said, or how to say anything, but still having to communicate.

Yesterday was bad, because I realized it. We were all sitting outside and everyone was talking and I couldn't understand them, and didn't know why they were laughing when they were....I felt like such a failure. But then, when I ran away, one of my friends talked to me and yelled at me a little, and told me to suck it up. So I went back downstairs, armed with a box of nerds and forced myself to say a few things, and then haltingly ask my host sister if she wanted to jump on the trampoline. Luckily, she said yes. Then one of the other people came and jumped with us and she patiently, very, very patiently listened to my German. It really boosted my confidence, that I could say some things in German and that they could be understood.

Well, I have to make up my mind now. I'll be back later. Ich liebe Berlin. :)

Ich bin hier!!!

Well, here I am. More than twenty-four hours with less than two of sleep. Yeah. I'm kind of...something right now. But....here's the big thing. I'M HERE. In Berlin. BERLIN. It's...very strange. I've been here for....less than twelve hours and it already feels like home. My host family is amazing. I was kind of worried about having siblings because I never have, but...so far, alles is gut. Sehr gut.

While I was sitting in the gate at JFK, waiting to board, I looked around aimlessly, only to be greeted by the most pleasant of surprises: three other be-blazered girls. I immediately grabbed my bag and ran up to meet them. Of course, since we were boarding and were NOT, needlessly to say, sitting anywhere near each other, I barely met them before finding my seat and settling in to the eight-hour flight. The person sitting next to me was pleasant enough. It was a good flight in the end, with a surprising two hours of snatched sleep. Unexpected snatched sleep. I succeeded in getting a photo with the captain of the flight, as one of my friends and I had decided we were going to do to commemorate our flight. :)

Got off the plane, went through passport control, found the other girls waiting at the baggage claim area and huddled up, trying to get at our bags as they passed. We all failed. And in English, too. :) But luckily for us, there was a very kind gentleman who spoke English and grabbed our bags for us. One of the girls had a massive welcome party with signs and everything. I couldn't find the Weigands and Jürgen behind the signs, but they found me. :) I'm sitting next to Clara right now, typing this. Speaking Deutsch. :) Ist gut. Ich liebe es. (She just corrected me. :) ) 

We went to Berlin Zitadelle today, after I unpacked. Oh, and as a note for any and all exchange students ANYWHERE. If there is ANYTHING that you're taking that has ANY chance of exploding due to pressure, DOUBLE BAG IT. Or at least single bag. Proof:

That, my friends, is blueberry jam I did not think for a second to wrap. I have learned my lesson. I promise. Nobody gets blueberry jam now. Luckily it didn't ruin anything because it was in the stuff suitcase and most of the jam went ON the suitcase or the plastic wrapped and air sucked sweaters next to it. 

Back to the day. Berlin Zitadelle....dang. My club's namesake.....I like Berlin-Zitadelle now even more than I did before. The reason why? 

And that's only one view. There are about three gazillion other options. That's just the coolest one. :)

Und, meine Familie. :) Ich liebe Sie. :)

Dawn

Of a sort.

It's finally dawning on me. The fact that in two weeks from today, I will have been in Berlin for almost a week. In just more than a week, I will be getting on a plane and leaving my home town, home country, home language, friends, family and everything else that I've known for an entire year. I'll be spending that year in a country that I've only dreamed of going back to, after a short week-long vacation spent there, the best vacation of my life. And for all of the wonderful parts of this realization, it always comes back to the fact that the hug I give my mother before stepping past that line at airport security will be the last hug I give her for a year. That night I spend in bed, on my pillow, will be the last night I spend on my bed for a year. That morning when I wake up and stumble groggily out to the bathroom, will be the last time I feel comfortable in a house for quite a while. The next time I wake up in a house, I'm not going to know where things are, and I'm not going to know the house well enough to be able to walk around turning on the light. I'm going to stumble over things, and wander around on tiptoes trying not to wake people up. My life is going to be turned utterly upside down in just more than a week.

It's scary. A year seems like a much longer amount of time now, when it's going to be starting so soon. Five months ago, a year didn't seem like that long at all, nothing to be scared of, nothing to even make me stop and think. But now, there's a part of me that doesn't want to go. That's wondering what I was thinking, that Ocotober day so long ago. "What are you thining? How can you even think for a second that this is a good idea? You're leaving home. You're leaving the only place you have ever known for a completely new place and a new experience. You don't know anything about what you're doing. You're an idiot." But when that part of me comes out, I realize why I'm doing it. When the scared part refuses to back down, I have to tell myself, "You're not leaving home for a year, you're going to make a new home in a year." And then, hopefully, I can manage to stop tearing up. Maybe. If I'm lucky.

Berlin isn't going anywhere, and neither is Sherman. I am going somewhere. I am leaving Sherman and going to Berlin. A new life is going to be made, whether I like it or not. It's up to me to make it the best possible experience. And I am determined to make it just that.

Oh, and in case of big boo-boos in this post: I just typed it all from a document I had written in my word processor when I was internet-less. I didn't bother to read what I was typing. I apologize for any errors.

I've Got the Golden Ticket :)

Well, in all fairness, I have neither a paper nor golden ticket. It is, however, a ticket. A ticket that will enable me to get on a plane and cross the Atlantic Ocean (kinda like my nifty guarantee form did, but I won't be signed by multiple people) and spend some time in Berlin. Pretty freaking awesome, eh? I tend to think so. 

The days are winding down. 12 days left, I think is the tally. I'm at my aunt's house, and tomorrow I'll be heading to my great-uncle's. He lived in Germany for twenty years and speaks the language fluently. It's my pre-immersion immersion. It's been eons since I've seen him, and if I saw him in Walmart, I wouldn't recognize him. But I've spoken to him on the phone and he seems awesome and super cool and kickbutt. Gonna learn me some DEUTSCH! 

I brought some nerds with me (the little Wonka candies, not the people) and my aunt is sitting here munching on them. "Aren't the addictive?" <--me "They're not good, I'm not enjoying them. *munch munch*" <--my aunt. It's pretty funny. I went out with a friend the other day, and we were shopping and I found a legit BOX of them. Not the dorky little box, but like a bottlecaps sized box of nerds. I was very happy. It's been determined that I'm going to need to take a couple boxes with me, because as it is now, I'm utterly addicted, and will suffer withdrawal if I get on a plane with no nerds. I shall remedy this problem in the next couple weeks. 

I was going to post a photo of my ticket when I got it, but it exists only in the virtual realm as an e-ticket, and I have a packet of multi-colored pamphlets teaching me how to pack and travel wisely. So it won't make for a very interesting photo. I apologize. I love you all, dear readers, even though my lack of interesting-photo-posting may seem contradictory to that. Many hugs and hearts, readers of Worlds Apart. 

Filler-ville

Yep. I'm just writing this because I have an epic post in mind, but I don't know when I'll be able to write it. So....I'm just going to do this.

My counselor from Berlin-Zitadelle has contacted me. I have an idea of when I'll be leaving. I've babysat twice in the last two weeks. I'm going to a family reunion today. I'm going to my grandparents today, which was not planned until two days ago and is pretty much messing me up. I still have to pack for that....

I started packing for departure, which will be after I pack for my grandparents', and after I pack to go to my great-uncle's to learn German. I honestly don't know how I'm going to manage to fit everything I want to take into that suitcase, even with spacebags. A lot of other exchange students say to pack extremely light, because you'll end up buying clothes and shoes and the like when you're there, but...I don't want to buy a lot. I want to save that money so I can go on my Eurotrip. Rotary exchange is cheap, compared to other exchange programs, but airline tickets are NOT cheap, no matter how you look at it. Lapel pins are also surprisingly not cheap. Especially when you need to get 300 of them. And then flags and other things for host families (which I will not mention by name, in case the Weigands are reading this. :)) So, in other words, my suitcase is going to be very full of clothes and I need to make sure they all fit and don't weigh more than 50 pounds.

Also, with about 20.5 days remaining until I get on that plane, I'm realizing all of the things that I'm going to miss....starting with my mom, ending with my pillow and all those tasty preservative-laden snacks I'm so fond of. There's a lot in between, too. The point is, if I let myself think about these things too long, or a little too intensely, my eyes start getting wet and then these strange little blobs of moisture come out of them. Yeah, I'm admitting to crying a little. On the internet. Where the world can see. lol. But then I listen to my music and sing really loudly and badly and make other people around me want to run away. And then I think about where I'm going, and why I'm going, and I'm better.

I'm going to Germany. Can you believe it? I don't think I can.