Freitag, 12. Dezember 2008

if you're feeling sinister, go off and see a minister

ACHTUNG! I am in a sort of depressed mood. I swear to God I actually am enjoying myself sometimes. Mom and Dad, you should probably skip over this and wait for tomorrow when I post pictures of me baking a Lebkuchenhaus.

Point 1.
As of late, I've been sort of struggling with the concept of home. Since I've left NH, home has been the place where I can block my knitting and charge my iPod.

I'm comfortable pretty much anywhere-- in a freezing room sharing a bed with strangers, in a hostel. in an appartment. living with strangers. wherever is sort of... equal. in the states, i really liked being home. but here, things sort of just... are. i have really no home-- sure, i have a bedroom and an internet cable and a rabbit that enjoys my company, but... my parents? nope. gnome quilt? nope. comforts of home etc.

Today, in politics, we talked about immigration and, by extension, the idea of home. I manage to tell a classmate that "being in Germany is the time I feel most like a stranger" and she just looked at me and nodded. Apparently, I'm not fitting in so well, but I suppose I never really expected to: these kids have had their 6 years of together time-- they grew up together and, as for me, I'm a recent aquisition. They're a bit jaded-- they've had exchange students. I am American, far from a commodity. Once I have clarified that life is not an episode of Gossip Girl and that the ocean where I live is really cold, America is sort of just... like England. (although, as a note, whenever I show people where I live, they get excited and say "OMG YOU LIVE LIKE, RIGHT NEXT TO NYC!11! etc."

So the conversation progresses. Kids define their idea of home: being with their family, their friends. Understanding the language and customs. (if you're not being all analyzing, think everything right now that I don't have) At this point, I'm praying to some sort of God that the teacher doesn't call on me, because if he does I'm probably going to start crying. He asks us what we'd bring with us from home-- I finally say my guitar because it sounds better than "my journal" or "my teal tights, 'cuz they make me feel invincible" (those are the one's from you, Kirsten) or "my iPod, because I sometimes need music more than it feels like I need air.", even though i don't really need my guitar or my toothbrush or my journal, even though that's what you can bring with you. home is where the people who love you are, and well, folks. that's homesickness for you.

Point 2. Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually enjoy crying. This is perhaps hard for some of you to believe, since I spend so much time doing it. I have cried to: Elton John, Little Miss Sunshine, papers and poems, strict words and words with Good Intentions, perhaps the worst kind. Long story short. I do it a lot-- perhaps that is the reason why I (think I) tend to be largely catatonic in between my crying/yelling jags-- I have bled out all emotions to the point that there is nothing more to express.

Anyways, my host parents had been talking about having a "you've been here for a fourth of your exchange!" talk. So yeah. I cried. I got hugged. I cried some more. It was good. I am cried out. Tired. Shakey. Ate some chocolate. etc.

It's really nice to know that my host parents are really watching out for me.

Point 3. Ich glaube, ich solle ein bisschen Deutsch proberien zu schrieben. Ich kann nicht so gut Deutsch schreiben, aber ich mochte besser werden. Heute war ein nicht so gut Tag. Ich hatte die erste Stunde frei, so ich ein bisschen langer schlafen konnte. Dass war ganz gut: ich war richtig muede-- gestern war das Weihnachtenskonzert, und ich war spaet zu Haus gekommt und habe nicht so gut geschlafen. Aber Schule war richtig Scheisse. Meine ganz Klasse gehen ins Disko heute Nacht und, fuer die erste Mal, ich war nicht eingeladen. Ich mag nicht ins Disko gehen, so es ist egal, fuer mich. Aber ich habe angst, dass ich keine Einladen bekommen wird, und ich wird allein sein.

Wir haben viel uber Heimat gesprochen, und fur mich dass ist schwerig: jetzt, ich weiss es nicht was Heimat ist. Wenn ich kann nicht der Sprache gut verstehen, ob ich keine "gute" Freunde habe, kann ich zu Haus sein? Ich weiss es nicht. Nach die Schule, ich bin zu Haus gefahren. Morgen, ich wird mit underes austauschulerin treffen und wir werden Lebkuchenhaus schmucken, so heute musste ich ein Tieg machen. Es gibt viel Tieg-- 1000 g Mehl und 450 g Honig. Das Tieg war klebend, aber es reicht richtig gut-- das ganz Haus reicht gleich Weihnachten! Wir haben ein Film gesehen and ich glaube, dass ich fast halb verstehen habe.

Jetzt bin ich nicht so muede, aber ich wird gleich ins Bett gehen.

Guten Nacht und Schlafen Sie schon, meine Lieben.



Heather hat gesagt…

Ahh, I was literally just thinking about the concept of "home" last night, because I feel sort of disconnected from everything in my life. I'm like you, I can adapt to most anything, but sometimes I feel like it would be nice to definitely have MY place in the world.

Actually, this quote from Garden State sums up how I feel pretty perfectly, so maybe you'd like it:

Andrew Largeman: You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone.
Sam: I still feel at home in my house.
Andrew Largeman: You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.

Anyway, I'm studying abroad in Spain next semester, and I liked your blog- mind if I follow it? Hope not. ;)

Victoria hat gesagt…

ich verstehe dein blog!!! jajaa! mein deutsch ist nicht so schlecht!das freue mich! ich liebe dein blog, btw. ich wuensche dich viel glueck.