Here I am, sitting on my living room floor, belongings scattered all around me, looking a little bit like a crazy person. Some are to be left here, at home, while most are coming with me, to a different home. I am leaving Granville, Ohio, in just a little over 9 hours. I am leaving for 10 and a half months. I am leaving. I can say it out loud, finally, after waiting and waiting and waiting, having to endure everybody's question- "When do you leave?" for an entire summer, and then some. I've had a surprise going away party thrown for me, by friends who went around in the dark alleys of Granville to plan it without my notice (I'm kidding. There are no alleys in Granville), and I just read the letters written by the attendees of the party. Let me give you a brief breakdown: 100% told me to have a great time, about 75% mentioned sausage and/or wienerschnitzel, and 25% told me to have fun with the German boys. There were a couple 'lederhosen' thrown in there, too. Stereotypes do not exist here, as you can see. It was a great party, with lots of m&m's, many of which were stuffed into envelopes and subsequently given to me by the perpetrators (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE).
My family also dropped my brother off to college. I was perfectly fine until the parting lunch, when I got appropriately teary-eyed, and gave him the biggest hug I could muster, and left. I then went to Biltmore- a huge house- and afterwards ate dinner at T.G.I Friday's with my mom. Over my spinach salad, I suddenly started to sob. That was so much unintentional alliteration I'm happy it's documented. Anyways, our waiter came over to ask us if we needed anything, took one look at my tear-filled eyes, my face twisted into that awkward 'crying face', and mumbled about getting water, walking as quickly as he could without looking like he was running. The reason for my tears, you ask? A combination of a few things: first, that it was different without Colin. There were no snide remarks, no banter that we thought was witty, no 'gentle' shoving. It was quiet, and I missed him. And the second reason, which occurred to me in the car (at which point I was, yes, still crying), was that I realized how long ten months are. I could see all that time stretched out before me, and on the other side was a pushpin that was my family. I am going to go ten months without getting a bear hug from my dad, or sitting on the couch talking to my mom. I'm going to wear outfits she'll never see, and I am going to make friends with people they'll never meet. For ten months, I am without them. I felt a sort of terrifying exhilaration, something that I can only compare going to the top of a really, really tall roller coaster, and looking down to see just how astonishingly far it is to the bottom.
Back to the very-near future, I am going to leave tomorrow (or, I suppose, today, since it's 12:07) for Annapolis, spend the night there, then go the my Orientation, at which time it's goodbye to my parents for good, and hello to the other 49 AFS-CBYX students. We leave on Friday, September 7th, at 5:26 in the afternoon, and then land in Frankfurt that morning, German time. It's four days full of Orientations of every variety, from safety to what to wear when meeting the Secretary of the Secretary of your Senate representative. A little explanation: because of the program, Congress-Bundestag, we are supposed to meet with the representative from our area, but as it turns out, Congress isn't in session that day, so we are meeting with the people who are eighth on the list of people they have readily available to meet, and must dress appropriately. It's four day of getting used to being away, without being plunged into the scary, murky, incomprehensible waters of Germany. So it's only a little terrifying.
Back to the present, I am too busy with the problem that is my luggage to be really freaking out. That comes later, probably at 3 in the morning, when my cats and mother will hear me pacing and moving about. I can put 44 pounds in my checked luggage, and 22 pounds for my carry on. The weight, surprisingly, is not as much of an issue as I had thought. The space, however, is. Do you know how incredibly difficult it is to try and choose what clothes to bring on an overseas adventures, where everybody will be meeting you for the first time, and since you know basically nothing of the language and will be forced to stand there like an idiot, slurring the phrases from your Traveler's Guide to Germany book, and then shove these life-changing clothes into a little purple suitcase? IT'S TOUGH. So I am forced to sit here, still on my living room floor, debating who can stay and who has to go. I like to imagine all my clothes, huddling into the deepest crevices of my suitcase, trying to avoid taking up space so I don't throw them out of it. Simple pleasures, as they say.That is a task that will be completed once I'm done here, but I felt like this was pretty important too.
Even though some parts of this post may have seemed a little down, and made being an exchange student sound like the equivalent of throwing yourself down a roller coaster track, I'm actually really and truly excited. Because even though I may be terrified, and wracked with sadness at the thought of not seeing everyone for 10 months, I feel alive. With the grief comes the elation- it's a price, but right now it's worth it. There's always something to look forward to, because there's always hope.
So until July, Granville, goodbye. Try and not to grow too big (it's funny because we're sadly small), and try not to have too much fun without me. I'll be back, and I'll still be me. I'll just talk about Europe alllll the time. Plus, I'll bring back some Nutella and weinerschnitzel. But until then, auf wiedersehen.
-The German Ginger
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