It may or may not surprise you that I am writing this blog entry from the sanctity of my own home. By my own home, I mean my house in South Carolina. Which is in America. Which isn't Germany. I won't go into the nasty details of why I'm back home (turns out murder is still a crime, even in Germany) but I will explain the horrors of the plane ride back. If there is one airport I will not recommend you fly out of (Columbia Metro) it is Frankfurt International. It is really just a pain to get through and no one seems to listen to the nice employees who really go out of their way to make sure you are waiting in line for 2 hours and nearly miss your flight. Thankfully, do to my calm demeanor, this didn't phase me one bit. At least at the time. I'm Jewish, I'm going to complain eventually it's in my blood. I once again was declined a window seat and had to sit in the middle of the damn plane. This required me to sit next to a full fledged Samurai (He could have fooled me. I wonder if he got randomly checked) and a Russian woman. My only problem with her was that German and Russian were her only languages and our aisle had the only flight attendant that only knew English. So I was designated translator. I lie, that wasn't my only problem. She wouldn't stop praying. I don't mean those regular 'Oh shit, I'm on a plane kind of prayers,' she was really getting into it. She did not trust this thing to get us over the ocean at all. To be honest, I thought she knew something I didn't. Especially since the channel which allows to listen to the cockpit had been cut off.
I arrived at Dulles and had to wait another hour for my bags to arrive. Also had a drug dog sneak around my back and proceed to jump onto my backpack. I thought that since I flipped out, they might decide that this kid needs to be searched, but I was lucky. I stayed in Virginia for the remainder of the week with the wonderful company of my Father and Stepmother. It was a good breather, and an even better way to kind of fit in back to American culture. I mean, 8 weeks in Germany didn't change too much.
My week in Virginia was cut short by a long car ride back to the gorgeous Southeastern America. It was already October by that time, and as everyone knows, October is the best month to be in South Carolina. Weather is near perfect (aside from it raining most of the time,) the State Fair is in town, and the Gamecocks are usually winning during this month, so most of the population is satisfied. After travelling 16 hours, 8 in a plane, 8 in a car, I was ready to just stop moving.
My body travels faster than my mind. I'm finding it harder to adjust to new surroundings, even if it just means driving down the street. I still feel like I am living in a completely surreal moment; I want to wake up and be back in Germany. I miss it terribly so, and although I knew this choice was the best choice, I still feel a sense of regret and even a tinge of guilt. I just don't want anyone to hold that against me.
My next post will be about some of the details of the past month, such as but not limited to: Mars Volta concert, the State Fair, life in general. For those that may notice the odd blog entry titles, I will fill you in on a little secret: The blog titles are either song titles, or song lyrics. It lets you know what I was listening to at the time, so maybe you can get a closer relationship between blogger and reader. I am no longer an ambassador, so I'll change the title in due time.
Bis bald.
No comments:
Post a Comment