UI Girls Gone Wild… Abroad
Lauren & Brittney do Europe

Posts Tagged ‘leaving’

The return

Saturday, May 8th, 2010

It’s 6 a.m. in Iowa– my  brain turned on like a light around 5:30 and despite my pleads and bargaining myself, I guess I’m up for the day.  Apparently it’s easier to fall into your sleep pattern when returning to the US from Europe, but in my little experience with it before, that is so not the case for me.  Also, I’m ravenously hungry.  All of my flights were for the most part on time yesterday, and I arrived in Des Moines at 10:30 p.m. to a ridiculously happy Savannah, and my dad who had come prepared with a can of Diet Pepsi and my new cell phone.  What a guy.  The bags under my eyes betrayed that I’d had about a combined hour of sleep during my entire 20-ish hour journey from alarm clock to baggage claim yesterday.  Upon arriving home, I was too excited to unwrap all my wares (mustard! chocolate! shot glasses!  …an odd amount of shot glasses!) to fall right into bed.  Once I did, I dreamt of nothing but airports, airplanes, and last-minute Mother’s Day gift shopping (which will happening some time today.)

I’m looking forward to many things this week, but am also quite frankly scared shitless of being thrust back into it all, and holy heartache, Batman– I miss Germany and D-Bag.  So much.  When I got to the US-bound flights terminal in the Munich airport, the American-ness was palpable.  So many overweight senior citizens complaining about the extra security or something they didn’t like about their bus tour of Germany, while sweating away in their Mickey Mouse track suits and visors.  Once we landed in Chicago and it was REAL, like real-real, yours truly wasn’t exactly bowling people over in the aisles to get my feet on American soil.  Let’s just try not and get salty tears all over your customs declaration form, okay Ma’am?  I guess this is my last post on the ol’ Iowa Girls Gone Wild; as we all know, you can find me here.  Good luck to Lauren in her return journey, but mostly with the whole saying of good-byes thing; it really does suck more than you could prepare yourself for.  WOW this post was much more Debbie Downer depressing than I’d planned on it being.  Overall, studying abroad was the BEST DECISION EVER and I MISS IT and it was GREAT, but I’m still REALLY hungry so will bid you Auf Wiedersehen, dear readers.  You’re the best (ok, you could have commented more.)  Thanks for putting up with my bipolarity and general uninteresting observations on all things about life abroad.  Time to go drink Diet Pepsi by the gallon and pee in public restaurants just because I can.

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Ready or not…

Thursday, May 6th, 2010

….here I come, America!

I got a surprising amount of sleep last night and am already showered, caffeinated, and marzipaned with plenty of time to get to the airport.  It’s raining and gloomy; typical Germany refusing to give me one last sunshine-y memory.  One of my two suitcases is quite certainly overweight, and just maneuvering both of them through bus, train, subway, and airport is the greatest source of my anxiety right now.  Either way, in just over 22 hours I should be coming down the escalator towards my father and Savannah in the Des Moines International (giggle) Airport.  I’ve left my flatmates a lovely note (because that’s really the most fitting good-bye considering our relationship) and got enormous bear hugs from the Slovak and my other neighbor last night.  I suppose I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, OH AND GUESS WHAT– my friend Katie and I WON karaoke the other night (D-Bag and I left early.)  The prize is a 50 Euro tab to be used at the bar, so while I’m sad I wasn’t there to claim my prize or use it, it’s probably for the best.  And by “won” I mean they put all of the participants’ names in a hat and randomly draw a winner each week, so it’s not like the judges were super impressed by my coordinated and oft-rehearsed boy band moves.

AUF WIEDERSEHEN, DEUTSCHLAND!  ICH LIEBE DICH UND ICH WERDE DICH VERMISSEN!!

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Karaoke

Thursday, May 6th, 2010

We’ve hit the 24 hour mark, and these last ones will be filled with packing (since I haven’t started, though at least all my clothes are finally clean) and cleaning and not hanging out with D-Bag because he’s GONE.  Perhaps I’ll touch on that later, perhaps I won’t, but at least if any tears were shed, they happened after our hallway parting in the solace of one’s empty, cold, clean laundry-strewn room.  Oh yes, that definitely does not not need to be touched upon.  Since my sheets are drying for my room-check later today, I slept on my couch last night and will again this evening.  And by couch, I mean half of a loveseat that wakes me up at 6:30 a.m. because of shooting back spasms and is no way fit to make one feel even remotely like sitting on a plane for a very long time very soon.

Last night I sang karaoke for the first time in my life– Backstreet Boys’ “I Want it That Way” AND Guns ‘n Roses’ “Sweet Child o Mine.”  The best part about these two songs, besides of course my obvious sobriety, was that I can sing them verbatim without the words on the screen.  This is especially helpful when one wants to really emote on stage, or if you were to say have the Sweet Child o Mine video memorized and want to swing the microphone by it’s cord during Slash’s last guitar solo, only to be verbally reprimanded by the German karaoke controller man.  My bad, sir.  My friend Katie also sang these with me so I didn’t feel like a complete fool, and there may be photos but I feel those are best left in the blackmail vault.

Is this my last post?  Am I supposed to come back with some sort of drawn out good-bye or a list of thank yous or multiple personal revelations about how studying abroad has changed my life?  I suppose I’ll save that for the plane, then give you one last nugget of wisdom so you know I’ve arrived safely.  In the meantime, get prepared for my triumphant return to blogging solo (the link is just a shameless plug to my other blog; like this one, only less direction, no Lauren, and more embarrassing self-promotion.)

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On leaving my señorita

Wednesday, May 5th, 2010

In the past four months I’ve developed a close relationship with Elisa (or, my host lady; or, the woman with whom I live; or, my señorita). I’ve had to attach a lot of names to Elisa to explain my atypical living situation: Most students in Sevilla live with old ladies (to put it bluntly) and the study abroad lingo for an older woman hosting an American student is señora. Simple enough. But my señora, at only 35, isn’t old enough to warrant the title — it suggests a certain age. “Host lady” is a little cold, and “roommate” isn’t quite right; Tyler never did my laundry or met daily obligations to feed me. But compared to most of my college-aged comrades abroad, my living situation more closely mirrored a roommate setup than anything else.

Ever since my first day here, Elisa and I have had some in-depth conversations, at least for a guiri (me; derogatory Spanish term for foreigners) living with a native Spaniard. I remember talking about abortion, the death penalty and the Catholic priest scandal all within week one. Tonight we chatted over fish pizza and Nutella sandwiches about the mortgage crisis. I read a bunch of cheesy testimonies before I came here about how the best language practice is at home with a host family, and I can now confirm that there is something to those cheesy testimonies.

Most people wrote heartwarming accounts: memories of telling stories to their snot-nosed Spanish host siblings. If my program asked, I could come up with 500 words about Elisa’s philosophy on men and marriage. It’s true that I sometimes feel like an idiot here. I’m often acutely aware of my own foreignness, which only heightens my inhibitions. Sometimes I’m more self conscious at home than anywhere else, especially on a hypersensitive day when I’m tired of hearing my accent mocked. We went a few weeks sporadically where I behaved like a surly teenager, moping in my room and blabbing in English on Skype. But aside from these fleeting frustrations, living with Elisa was one of the best parts of my experience here (and in turn, sort-of living with her sort-of boyfriend, who I would equate to that one uncle, or your dad’s creepy cousin — the guy in every family — who moves in as if to kiss you on the cheek but then goes for your mouth. Whatever, I love him anyways). So when I leave in eight days, expect waterworks.

If I hadn’t lived here, who else would have dragged me to a shady discoteca midday on a Saturday 20 minutes outside of the city? Who else would have fed me snails and introduced me to the kickass dual-flavor off brand of Nutella? Who else would have encouraged me to make questionable life decisions every time I went out on a Thursday night (well, maybe I could have found someone to do that)? Who else would have gotten drunk on a Tuesday for my birthday and then dealt with the resulting hangover when she got up for work at 7 a.m. the next day? You may love your 70-year-old señora, and I’m sure she’s a sweetheart, but I wouldn’t change my living situation for the world.

I’ve never been sure if Elisa liked me all that much, but she made a comment Monday night that after me, she doesn’t think she’ll have a better student. I’m the first one she’s hosted. I told her not to make me cry. Then she said how great I am because I’m the equivalent of a human garbage disposal and will eat anything she puts in front of me. So okay, even if she’s hated me this whole time, she at least appreciates how embarrassingly not picky I am. If that’s not a moving cross-cultural bond worthy of being transformed into a made-for-TV movie, then I don’t know what is.

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Gift-less

Wednesday, May 5th, 2010

I board my flight home (Hamburg to Munich to Chicago to Des Moines) in 49 hours!  Perhaps it’s because I had some pleasant dreams of home last night, but I am in a very peppy mood about the coming two days.  (Yes, I just said peppy.  This could also possibly be attributed to the fact I’m trying to use up the rest of my instant coffee before I leave.  I still have half a jar left– this day could get interesting, fast.)

Most people in my program met at the Hofbrauhaus in Hamburg on Monday for some last liters of beer and good-byes and photos.  I also now really really really want my parents to redo our basement bar into a Hofbrauhaus theme.  GO WITH ME ON THIS, I think it’ll be great.  Yesterday I spent the better part of the afternoon walking around Luneburg, window shopping, browsing, souvenir-shopping… and came up pretty much empty handed.  I got some panoramic postcards of the place for myself and a new pair of jeans (on sale! 15 Euro!)  Oh and some gelato, but that was really just implied.  I am in no way joking or planning a secret souvenir surprise when I say I am literally empty-handed for all of you readers.  Oh wait, my brother’s getting a t-shirt.  Feel free to send in desperate last-minute e-mails if you were expecting something specific, but there’s nothing I’ve found that screams “Kayla HAS to have that” or “THIS would make a good Mother’s Day gift.”  Really, my presence is all anyone needs, and all anyone will be getting.  I don’t even have anything for NPH, and it’s his birthday in five days.  MY BAD.

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I LOVE LISTS

Monday, May 3rd, 2010

Things I will miss upon my return to America:

1. Drinking in public.  Germany has no open-container laws; I’ve never bowed down to non-existent legislature before.  If we’re walking to bowling and someone hasn’t finished their beer, they can just take it with them!  How much better would the world be if we could all just pop a beer on the walk home after class instead of remaining sober for the entire journey?  Get your act together, Iowa.

2. Bakeries.  They’re on every single corner, and that is in no way an exaggeration.  It is completely acceptable to be eating bread at absolutely any hour of the day, in any venue or life situation.  Bus, bike, train?  Eating pastries, pretzels, bread rolls.  Before, during, and after meals?  More bread.  Class?  Carbs!  And no one here is 400 pounds!  Germans are CONSTANTLY EATING, something that will be sorely missed by yours truly.

3. D-Bag.  My neighbor, best buddy, and personal therapist– Darin.  I am 100% convinced I would have been mauled by a bear if it weren’t for him.  Knowledgeable from having already been here a semester, he graciously let me follow his every move and showed me the ropes of this sometimes scary, always foreign place.  While it would seem we have little in common save for our extreme sarcasm and general “I couldn’t give a shit less about 95% of the things happening around me if I tried” attitude, our oppositeness played nicely off each other and I’MGONNAMISSHIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

4. Sassy German women.  I’m speaking to the ones in the over 50-set– these women have spunk.  Also, while we’re on the subject of spitfire generations, there are plenty of extremely active elderly people (we’re talking geriatrics who have stories from the war) who ride the bus with me every day.  I’m continually amazed by them, mostly because I don’t plan on getting off the couch after I qualify for AARP.

5. Places only taking cash.  I spend so much less money not being able to swipe a plastic card every time I want to make a purchase.

6. To lump many other things together: the beer/ the beauty (everyone told me it’s such a beautiful country, but you don’t realize til you’re here HOLY SCHMOLIGANS that’s a pretty landscape)/ ubiquitous public transportation/ my Slovakian neighbor/ my running trails/ soft pretzels/ H&M/ learning the language.

7. Getting A’s on everything because I’m treated like a five-year-old.  This is perhaps just program-specific, but essentially if I showed up to class even half alive and turned in something by the end of the semester, I was received with heaps of praise.  If I were treated with such kid gloves at home, my grades would be far improved.  Now that it’s over (and as of 12:15 today, I am officially a senior in college) I can say I never got anything less than an A this entire semester.

Things I will not miss:

1. Getting stared at for being obviously foreign.

2. Having four roommates.

3. The entire country being shut down on Sundays/ weekdays after 6 p.m.

4. The language barrier

5. Being a slave to Skype/ Facebook/ Gmail if I want to talk to people from home

6. The USD to Euro conversion rate

7. Germans’ obsession with mayonnaise, their lack of spicy food, and their refusal to acknowledge barbecue sauce as a condiment

8.  Paying for water.  FREE REFILLS, here I come.  Also, paying to pee in public.  I’ve probably spent more money so I wouldn’t pee my pants than I have on beer.  (That was a blatant lie, but I feel a strong comparison was needed to show how unjust I find spending 30-70 cents just to save my insides.)

I’m looking forward to: gas station fountain soda, tortilla chips and salsa, movie theater kettle corn, spicy chicken wings, and Oasis’ falafel and hummus.  Sorry, NPH, but it will be a long, long time before I crave bratwurst again.  Ooh, maybe a nice steak though.  And funfetti cake.  Dammit, I probably shouldn’t be writing this list while hungry.

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Eat fresh: in which I geek out and describe my trip to Subway in great detail

Sunday, May 2nd, 2010

As far advanced as Germany is in so many areas, they missed the boat on the whole WINDOW SCREENS thing.  The bee currently buzzing around my room is the third one this week.  My windows have to be open for temperature control, since they also never received the air-conditioning memo.

I saw part of a robin’s egg on my run this morning (ok, my jog this morning.  My legs were not feeling movement today, which proved just fine since I might not have spotted the bright teal little gem if I’d been going at a normal pace.)  I don’t really have much else to say about it, except it made me think of my mom.

A few hours after aforementioned physical activity, there was a rumbly in my tumbly that needed satiated.  My shelves are pretty bare due to my imminent departure, so I ventured into Am Sande for lunch.  Normally only McDonald’s and the Turkish Doner places are open on Sundays (both are pretty barf-tastic) but since everything was closed yesterday for the holiday, most eateries, bakeries, and gelato places were open today.  So where did I go?  For the first time since arriving here… SUBWAY!!!  I figured I’d give it a try, having worked there for over three years during high school, and to hopefully satisfy my recent craving for lettuce.  The menu was in English, and I ordered a toasted turkey on Vollkorn brot (“fitness” bread covered in seeds.  It’s way good.)  You only get to choose between sliced or cream cheese, and they have less veggies to put on it.  I also thought it was hella expensive, but then remembered American Subways aren’t always known for their ease on the pocketbook, either.  I got a meal since I was ready to gnaw off my arm at this point, though their chip selection was much more limited and you’re only allowed to fill your drink cup once.  After inhaling my salt and vinegar chips at the bus stop, I came home and added some of my Regensburg mustard to my sandwich and chowed.  IT WAS SO GOOD.  The turkey tasted (and looked!) like real turkey instead of the slimy fart turkey our Subways have.  Since my best friend Kayla has worked there for, what is it now… 6 years?  7?  Your whole life?– I took a picture for her and will now share it with you (let’s ignore my general appearance, including whatever’s going on with my fingernail polish.)

Post-church trips to Subway can be added to my list of reasons I’m excited to live at home this summer, along with eating at Gateway Market, finally visiting the downtown Des Moines’ farmer’s market, and easily accessible Jordan Creek kettle corn.  And yes, I realize those all have to do with food.

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Labor Day

Saturday, May 1st, 2010

Today, besides being only ONE MONTH from my 21st birthday, is Labor Day in Germany.  This holiday is traditionally characterized by political riots in the larger cities (especially in the Kreuzberg neighborhood of Berlin) and insane drunkenness everywhere else.  It was supposed to rain this weekend, but when I woke up– much too early for a Saturday, damn you insanely vivid dreams– the weather could not have been more perfect.  This called for a venture out of doors, and not just because I had seen people setting up bratwurst tents in the downtown area last night.  Since Luneburg is far too family friendly for political unrest, the “gathering” near Am Sande was literally called a Family Festival, replete with marching band, inflatable play areas, and a face painting stand.  When I got there, some guy was on stage speaking in staccato-ed German to a crowd holding party signs and homemade banners against military involvement in Afghanistan.  Essentially, something NPH would have been far more interested in than I was.  I turned my attention to the bratwurst stand, beer tent, and Kuchenbuffet (cake buffet.  Let me say that again: CAKE. BUFFET.)  Since it wasn’t even 11 a.m., I made a beeline towards the tent with the church ladies and their wares.  Sorry, Lutherans schlepping coffee and bars back home, but these German Fraus know what’s up in the dessert for breakfast department.  After much oggling, I settled on some sort of Quarkkuchen with apricots (peaches?) and slivered almonds on top.  As if I need to tell you, it did not disappoint.  The next couple of hours involved me walking around town, soaking in my last weekend here, taking pictures, and wondering why I didn’t get the memo on today’s holiday also doubling as “Large groups of older people getting really dressed up and taking guided tours of the city Day.”

Today could not have been more beautiful (ok, the first part anyway.  The second part involves me attempting to study for my final on Monday but probably catching up on episodes of 16 & Pregnant online.)  This came at a perfect time, because the whole “leaving” thing hit me like a ton of bricks yesterday when I was filling out my program evaluation.  Wondering if I’m mentally ill because of my ever-changing feelings on going home is getting quite old, and I have to agree 100% with Lauren when she said she has much more anxiety about going home than when coming to Europe.  I woke up and I was DREADING everything about America, but then I walked by someone today who smelled like my grandmother and I got really excited to be seeing family again in just a week for Mother’s Day.  D-Bag decided to go all Yoda on me yesterday and explain that all good things must come to an end, and if we prepare for the inevitable good-bye, we can enjoy the time we have left (or something like that, my eyes tend to glaze over at these kinds of pep-talks.)  I did kind of start cleaning my room yesterday, though far too much laundry needs to be done before I can pack, so I settled on starting random piles around my room.  I really don’t have much in the souvenirs for loved ones department (sorry, Grandma, but pastries will NOT survive the flight back) because I don’t know what they’d want and most things here wouldn’t mean much to those who haven’t experienced it anyway.  Oh, feel free to read this about the study abroad experience, something I contributed to The Next Great Generation’s week on education.

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The end’s more mundane than I was picturing

Thursday, April 29th, 2010

Today was my very last day of German class!  The final is tomorrow and then I have another final on Monday, then the rest of the week is mine to pack, buy souvenirs, and CLEAN my room before I fly out on Friday.  Is it real?  No.  Have I put that much thought into it?  Not at all.  I’m not chomping at the bit to get home, nor am I drowning in tears about leaving.  True to form, our teacher knocked it outta the park today.  We had a mini-breakfast party with strawberries, cheesy rolls, and Quarkballchen (essentially German donut holes.)  She decorated the room and made us Schuletutes (school cones) something that German students get on their first day of school, filled with candy and pencils and stuff.  Mine was blue and covered in dinosaur stickers because of my motto “Never forget your dinosaur.”  We played a review game, which I won, so I got a little gold medal, a coffee cup with the German flag on it, and we all got shot glasses.  She’s the best!!

The weather this week has been absolutely perfect; coupled with the surprisingly light amount of homework I have makes for ample time to roam about town.  I usually stop for an afternoon pastry and then try to walk it off on my way home (how I will miss you, bakeries on every corner.)  My life is relatively boring, and I’ve mostly just been enjoying the calm before the inevitable storm of leaving.  Oh, on the good news from home front, I was elected Vice President of UI’s PRSSA chapter which I’m pretty excited about.  I was going to pitch a fit if I didn’t get on the exec board this year since I was last year, but thankfully that tantrum will be avoided. Natalie, I’m scouring the greater Hamburg area for keychains this weekend.  NPH made reservations for our first “official” date when I return, so there are definitely things to get excited about on the way to the airport.

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Why don’t “mood” and “good” rhyme?

Monday, April 12th, 2010

“Get me the f@?$ out of this country.” –one of my fellow American students, though he’s been here for almost nine months.  This is essentially the sentiment of everyone around me; we’re going absolute bat-shit stir crazy.  Perhaps it’s because the German students have returned and the campus is once again overrun with crowds, lines, and German people who will sit at your table even though there are 47 empty ones elsewhere in the cafeteria.  The language is getting ridiculously harder, the natives are getting weirder, the food is tasting blander, the weather is getting colder, and we’re ready to go.  I will be making the most of my last few weeks here, however– once I get this BLANK-BLANKIN’ project done, I can enjoy Munich, Berlin, and shopping in Hamburg.  I’ve also thrown calorie counts to the wind and have been indulging in German pastries for really the first time since coming (it’s all for you, Bryce.)  I can get a bowl of muesli at home any day, but I can’t walk down the street to a tiny bakery and pay for a piping hot, homemade European croissant/pretzel/you name it I hope to eat it before leaving.

Apparently I freckle when in the sun.  Having not been exposed to direct sunlight for going on21 years, I was never aware this could occur.  Or maybe it’s just a new thing– either way, my nose is nicely freckle-spotted.

My freak hand allergy has returned exactly five weeks after returning to Germany from America.  This number is significant because it is almost the EXACT amount of time it took for it to mysteriously come about the first time.  Coincidence?  I THINK NOT!  I shall arm myself with steroid cream and children’s allergy sleep medication (it was free from the Doc, thank you) and go into Official Battle until I figure out what the heck’s going on.

Oh, on the kinda big news front: for those of you who don’t stalk on me on Facebook/Twitter/ in real life, I’ve found gainful employment this summer as an event planning intern in Des Moines, thus won’t be living in Iowa City.  I’ll in fact be putting down roots again with my family (parents AND little brother) in Adel.  If you’re of the God-fearing kind, please pray for me.  My ever-increasing anxiety problems have me much more worked up about living at home again (which I haven’t really done since leaving for college almost three years ago) than I am about actually doing well in my internship.  In reality, I’m over the moon to be living so close to pretty much all of my family and getting to experience Des Moines as an adult, because I think it’s a much neater place to hang out than it’s given credit.  As always, I’ll be missing NPH and that house full of slovenly boys to whom I’ve given my heart, but being two hours down the Interstate is much better than thousands of miles across an ocean.

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Sevilla: T-Minus 24 hours

Saturday, January 16th, 2010

In exactly 25 hours and 19 minutes, I’ll depart from O’Hare International Airport in Chicago and head to Madrid (at which point I’ll sit in the Madrid airport for several hours, perusing duty-free shops and marveling at signs in Spanish, until I finally hop on my last plane for Sevilla).

I’ve been mentally mapping out my study abroad plans since I was in high school. I’ve literally waited years for this flight, and now that it’s finally here, I’m in denial.

Everyone’s question: “Aren’t you so EXCITED?!” Sure, I’m excited. But mostly I try not to think about it. Thinking too far ahead leaves room for me to begin panicking, like, “Oh shit, what if I forget to pack something crucial?” or, “What if something great happens in Iowa while I’m gone and I miss it?” (doubtful). There are a few things I’ll miss dearly, however, namely my family and my good friends between Iowa and Illinois. I also won’t have the opportunity to watch my younger brother perform a Lady Gaga medley in full drag at his high school talent show, and as you can imagine, I will be mourning my own absence from the event.

I’ve avoided becoming too excited or nervous about my trip by focusing on wholly trivial items and obsessing over my luggage. To give you an idea: I spent 10 minutes deciding whether to buy a pink or black umbrella at Meijer the other day (I went with black, it seemed like the classier rain repellent of the two). I also created a word document with a table divided into categories of what I need to pack. Yes, I am that anal. It paid off, though, because I’m only going to have one checked bag at the airport tomorrow. This is mostly thanks to my mother’s packing expertise, but I still think it’s an accomplishment that deserves recognition. I’m patting myself on the back as I one-handedly type this.

I think my excitement — and the full effect of my unruly nerves — will ultimately sink in tomorrow, after my family drops me off at the airport. I’ve never flown solo, so that will be an experience. Luckily I have three books, two magazines and a bag of Swedish Fish to keep me company. Until then, here’s hoping that I don’t slip into a panic attack at the terminal that ends in me sobbing so uncontrollably that I forget to board the plane. To everyone back home, you will be missed, but I will be here. See you on the other side.

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