I come from a land of peanut-flavored butter.

17 Jan

Let it be known I was offered my first alcoholic beverage (legally?) on the plane out of the US.  As appealing the idea was, in conjunction with my parents advice (me: “What can I take to calm down on my flight?” parents: “Alcohol”) that journey is definitely not something you want to be buzzing for. There is nothing they make a bigger deal about in studying abroad than the fairytale idea of “Packing lightly”.  I learned the hard way when I had about 7 escalators to repeatedly go up and down in the Frankfurt airport with two suitcases, a day pack, and a tote.  They can live in their one-suitcase fantasy world all they want.  I am grateful for my pineapple sheets right now.

I pride myself on being able to handle solitude well.  I shop alone, occasionally go to movies solo, and prefer a movie night rather than the weekends raging party at the Pike house (I sound like a crazy cat-lady–lets keep this a judgement free zone people).  But despite all of my preparation and natural character, nothing prevented the sudden and painful onset of what I had done while I was sitting on my train to Freiburg.  All I could think was, “Holy crap I’m here alone.  I’m doing this all alone with no parents.  I’m in a foreign country for the first time by myself with no parents and I’m alone.  Why did I do an entire semester again?”.  I knew it would come, but it’s a totally different emotion when you’re actually living it.  It probably didn’t help that I couldn’t tell if I was going to Freiburg or Bangkok on that train.  Seriously… confusing.  They try to warn you about culture shock, and unfortunately there’s absolutely nothing I could’ve done to prep for it.  I’m quickly learning how hard it is to exist in a country foreign to you.  Grocery shopping? Forget about it.  I stood staring at cartons of milk for 5 minutes trying to gamble which one wasn’t going to make me throw up later.

Nothing comes without laughs though.  We asked our Housing Tutor (basically an RA/tour guide/prepaid-friend) if Germany had peanut butter.  I have a task for you, my readers: go tell the nearest person they came out with wall-flavored popsicles.  Then you’ll understand the look I got about peanut butter.

I’ll be uploading all of my Freiburg pictures into a public album for everyone to view.


Let me know if there are any issues with the link.


2 Responses to “I come from a land of peanut-flavored butter.”

  1. Ashley in Seville January 19, 2011 at 10:10 am #

    Hey, I just want to say that no you’re not alone on the crazy-cat-lady thing, I am the exact same way so as one person said to me while I was over here in my response to “i don’t drink very much” was…. “who cares? you’re in a foreign country do what you want to do.” It sounds like you’re having a blast though! And you’re right, people do look at you funny even if you are speaking their language, or attempting to.

  2. Doris Block January 19, 2011 at 8:45 pm #

    you are quite the writer we are really enjoying your pictures and the “letters” you are writing you don’t seem quite soooo far away so, no peanut butter in Freiburg???? Gad how unamerican how do they survive???? do you need a care package??? keep up the good writing!!!!!!!!!!! Lots of love, Grandma Dee

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