I leave my country of origin in less than a week and, to be perfectly candid, the prospect is overwhelming. There is a dry-erase board attached to the door of my room, and one of my kindly hall-mates has started a countdown to when "my adventure" begins. I was really excited when the number in the little box was eleven, but now that it is under seven I realize more and more how many little things there are yet to be done. Things like figuring out which of my many coats I should bring with me. Do I bring my lovely wool coat? My adorable but rather chilly raincoat? What about my no longer water-proof nor fashionable ski coat? How many hoodies should I bring? Do I really own and wear this much black? Do I possess any t-shirts that don't have English plastered all over them? And then there are the teeny tiny little issues like: do I remember any of the German I have learned? or do I have the addresses of all the people that I need to contact as soon as I get there? and how many people have I mortally offended by not personally going out with them to say goodbye?
Even beyond and through all of the ponderings and erranding I catch those glimmers of excitement as I recall the fact that I am really hurtling toward my very own adventure (at something of a breakneck rate). Thank you to everyone who has helped me to get myself in this far. To those that I don't see again before I leave, know that I will miss you and would love to hear from you. I have an early breakfast in the morning, so a goodnight and a sleep tight and all the rest for now.
5 comments:
good bye Val, see you in a year.
Within all good reason you have made it to Germany now and are surrounded by everything unfamiliar and strange. It is certainly a sad thing to not have you around anymore, you were something of a fixture here, a part of the essence of this place. Yet it is for this very reason that this "adventure" of yours will be a most extraordinary one, an uncomfortable chiseling of marble into something ever more beautiful. Godspeed.
Yes. A fixture. Much unlike, however, a facet. Or a faucet. A fixture. Like a pillar you always hope is around so that the roof doesn't cave in and destroy all you hoped for.
...sigh... A pillar of marble no less! You will come back as a sculpture, most likely of a goddess.
I wanna know, a few things. Namely.
1. What did you do in Denver?
2. What did you learn about your sweatshirts?
3. How is it now for you?
Sincerely!
Thank you for the phone call when you arrived. That everything went smoothly is amazing... let us hope a harbinger of good things to come. We tried to call the numbers you gave us but were not successful in a little bit of a scary way... like it is an invlaid number... so if you could contact us asap so we know you were not sold into slavery that would be a great kindness. Love you. Mm
Goodbye to all... Josh: thanks for the thought, Jen: I'm glad that I'm not a faucet to you and I forgot all of my hoodies but one. Mom: I am still alive and well, I just can't read German penmanship (I left out a one thinking it was a slash).
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