Intern International: From the USA to Europe

Forenote: I tried to approach this casually and simply write an account of everything that happened on my trip. However, it was very hard to do and lacked inspiration. I decided to just write in my own style. So, I don't know if this is too poetic/lyrical for a blog, or too cringe. But, enjoy it, I guess. :)

   I did it. I left. I watched my parents disappear from sight as the escalator took me to the shuttle stop. I held back my tears as I was pushed forward by the ebb of the crowd. I wasn't holding back tears because I was dreading my trip. No, I was excited. It was just that I knew everything I was leaving behind and I had no idea what to expect in Europe. It couldn't have possibly been the picture-perfect idea that books, media, and my active imagination had painted for me. Would it be beautiful? Would there be new birds or flowers? Would the people be kind? Would I fit in? I didn't know, but I knew the feeling of my parent's hugs, the warm glow of my bedside lamp on a chilly spring evening, or the taste of some good American chili on a fall day. I knew I was leaving all of that behind. 

It's cheesy but, it's because of these two that I have 
the courage to go on these wild adventures.

   That was what made everything so hard. But I was lucky. My friend Karis, who had decided to spend the year abroad with me, had a layover at Denver Airport. the feeling of her hug as we met again after four months apart reminded me that there would be at least one familiar thing in Europe. 

Reunited after four months

   I was okay for the rest of my wait. I was okay when I walked onto the plane, and as I sat down in my seat. But when I left the ground, when I knew I couldn't go home, when I knew that the next place I would touch ground would be in Ireland, I began to cry. Every time I took a deep breath to calm myself, it seemed that there were rocks in my stomach, yet my stomach was strangely hollow at the same time. 

Smiling through the pain :,)

   To distract myself, I ate a meal of plasticky food and read to the unsatisfying glow of my phone's flashlight until my eyes grew heavy. After that, I decided to try and sleep. Yet, for some reason, I felt compelled to open my window one last time before I did. 

   When I looked outside, what greeted me was a familiar site. A milky hue that streaked across the sky. It was so unassuming, perhaps a trick of the light; the Milky Way from another angel. But I knew better. I took a photo on my phone and watched as it developed, bringing the milky streak to life in shades of green and red. There were my lights. The Northern Lights. I checked on the plane monitor and found that they had appeared just as we were flying over North Dakota. They grew brighter and brighter the farther north we climbed. They shot into the sky and danced their solemn dance, and here I was, dancing among them. They were beside me, around me, and I watched as a fiery star fell through the lights and down through the sky toward Earth, while I continued to soar with the lights.

   I only slept for three hours but when I awoke it was light outside. Strange. There were clouds below us, but as we got closer to Dublin they began to break up and I could see the Island of Ireland below. It looked like home. Strange. I had expected it to be different, but there were crops and towns just the same as Colorado, the state I had flown out of. I wasn't really disappointed, I just wondered if perhaps all of Europe would be massively underwhelming. 

   But as we began sweeping low over the countryside, we flew out over the ocean. I watched as rocky islands popped up off the shore. I might have even seen a stone tower on one, something unfamiliar. Then, the plane took a sharp turn back towards the shore, and as we passed from sea to land, black cliffs rose from the frothing waves, blanketed in emerald green grass. The cliffs of Ireland. We didn't have those in Colorado. I gasped, and I wasn't able to take another breath until they had disappeared from view. Suddenly, I knew what I might be able to expect.

  (A small side note: My first cultural experience was going to the "Duty-Free" in Dublin and it looked more like a Shaun the Sheep merch store than anything else. If you want photos I can provide them, but I don't feel like uploading them to my computer rn. )

   By the time I arrived in Munich, I was exhausted and overstimulated. Travelling is over romanticized. There is constant noise, and there are always people bumping into you.  It is nothing but draining. I was running on three hours of sleep, no food, and a serious amount of jet lag so I forgot that when customs asked me why I was visiting I was supposed to say I was touring. I told them I was a student. That was a mistake. They held me there for thirty minutes while they tried to figure out if I was allowed to enter Austria without a visa. At that point, I was already flustered and I was having a hard time fighting back my tears. However, they let me go... eventually. It was raining in Munich and dark outside. I couldn't see anything from the car window as we drove to the school, which was disappointing. My first time in Europe and I couldn't see past the reflector poles.  

   There isn't much else to tell, except that I arrived safely to the school. It is still hard to believe I left, and even harder to believe that I am in Europe, fulfilling dreams I have had since I was a little girl. I say I didn't know what to expect, but that doesn't mean there haven't been surprises and shocks. But that is another post.