The Day I Became the Chosen One

This post is a tad bit delayed- sorry about that, for the couple of you who look upon this blog faithfully. This summer is the busiest I've ever experienced, and I'm not sure if it is that way because I'm trying to cram everything I physically can into three months before I go, or simply because I'm older and now there are various activities that I can do outside of walking distance (a perk of having friends with licenses). However, the big news of this post is I GOT A HOST FAMILY! To you who are reading, it is no surprise and you will nod and possibly crack a smile over my accomplishment, but I was beyond relieved and telling everyone I knew that yes, in fact, Germans do like gingers, so you can just shut up now with the ginger jokes. And it was scary to think that people might not want me, which is self absorbed but true. I know it's hard to think of taking up a kid, who probably doesn't speak the same language, and there were so many of us that needed, and still need, someone to take that step and volunteer their family and home. But I got a host family, and it changed everything. The prospect of leaving my home for a foreign country, into the home of people who will feed and shelter me for year, was finally made concrete when there was a face to put on it.


The tally comes to: 


1 father, a doctor
1 mother, a nurse
2 sisters, ages 15 and Kindergarten (that's an age, right?). Theresa and Clara are their names, respectively.
2 brothers, in the 2nd class and 5th class (don't ask what that means, because I don't know), their names being Jacob and Konrad.
1 overall beautiful and gracious family who has decided to risk taking a 16 year old American girl into their home.




So, I'll live in Swisttal, a little town near Rheinbach and Cologne, going to school in the former. My institute of learning is Erzbischoefliches St. Joseph Gymnasium, an all girls Catholic school. But wait! The school is underfunded, so boys go there too. The news of education lacking money has never brought such a smile to my face, and the knowledge that the male gender is also walking the halls is a bit of a relief. I have absolutely nothing against girls (I am one, just to be clear), but too much of any one thing/ gender can be tiring. My sister, Theresa, and brother, Konrad, will both go to school at the same place, and I'm glad for that, because I think sometimes I'll just need a familiar face. 


So, what now? I'm going to every doctors appointment my mom makes for me, from the oral surgeon to the optometrist. I have a passport, a suitcase, clothes, my tennis racket, and shoes. I have almost everything on the checklist with a checked off, but I don't think that has much to do with being ready. Being ready is being prepared, mentally, for what's ahead. For leaving my friends, my family, my cats. For missing homecoming and Christmas Eve and Prom. For meeting new people, for learning a new language. Being ready is coming to terms with the fact that I am going to struggle, that I am going to have hard times and sad times, times when I'm ready to come home because all I want is a hug from my mom or to play tennis with my dad, or to talk to someone about something familiar. But it's also being excited. I'm going to go to a foreign country, where there are trains and buses, and cities nearby, and people ride bikes everywhere and bread is served with every meal (or so I hear). I'm going to have great times with new friends, and tell stories to my old ones. I have a chance to experience a year filled with life, to the point that it's almost bursting. Yet it's so much harder to say what I'm excited for than what I'm fearful of. It's easy to point out and say 'this will be missed', because I know what I'm leaving, and can imagine myself without these familiar things. But I don't know what I'm going towards, not really. There is a vast possibility for the unknown to reign down upon my life in these upcoming months. And that is exciting.