Wanderlust | Teen Ink

Wanderlust

June 1, 2015
By kmbayley18 BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
kmbayley18 BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I sat there, unable to move or speak. I was awake, and yet somehow unconscious at the same time.  My brain was thinking, my eyes looking around, my whole body amazed that I had made it this far. I sat there, looking at the wings of metal that appeared outside of my small oval window. Suddenly, a strange woman’s voice thundered over the PA. As the engine growled, the earth beneath me sped away. Slowly, I was lifted from the ground. The Michigan soil that my house, school, friends and entire community stood upon faded away behind me.  I was lifted from everything that I knew and found comfort in.

       

The plane ride was long, nine hours to be exact. After a couple of movies, my mother recommended to sleep the remainder of the trip. It was uncomfortable. I rested but was unable to sleep at the sound of the running engine. Although all the thoughts racing through my head overpowered the engine.  These words in my head spoke with discomfort. I already missed being home. I had so many questions growing in my head. “Will it be exciting?” “What will the town look like?” “How will people act?” “Will I find friends?” “How will I communicate with these people?”
       

In the morning we were quickly served breakfast (A nasty; barely edible meal) and landed shortly after. As we all filed off the plane in Germany, I looked around. Unfortunately all there was to see where planes, runways and the great big airport building.  I just couldn't wait any longer to see what it was like outside of North America! It felt like a dream.  Walking was almost floating, my eyes were heavy and my head...dizzy.  Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. My ears were overwhelmed, I had never heard anyone speak to me in an accent before.  My family and I piled our luggage into the car we would be using for the first month, or until my fathers new car arrived.  The car was not exciting, it was a small manure colored Ford fiesta.  Driving out of the parking structure took more skill than most typical American drivers acquire.  The narrow passages and busy crowds were not easy to pass.  As we drove to the exit there was a sign reading 'Ausfahrt'.  Regardless of our restless bodies, the humorous name for 'exit' (as my dad later explained) made us all laugh. Then, we were quickly on our way to meet the lady that would be helping us through the process of moving. Into house number one we went. My mom, dad, sister and I climbed up the spiral staircase to the third floor of our temporary apartment. Blue couches, white kitchen, orange bedrooms and one...yes one...bathroom.
       I walked down the short strip of modern cobblestone into the entrance of my school. It was an International school, taught in English. I sat on a white chair in the tiny auditorium and listened to the brief orientation on school expectations.  Afterward, I was escorted into my first classroom along with my new classmates. It became clear to me that not a single person sitting next to me was speaking English. Although I knew only two words of it, I understood that their whispers were in German. Daring each other to talk to me, one girl finally spoke. “Deutsch oder Englisch?”. I stared back at her with a blank face, unable to understand her thick accent. I replied with a quiet “Pardon?”. “Achso! English.” and then walked away, back to her friends to inform them I was not a German speaker
       

I wanted to go home. Not home to my apartment in Langen. I wanted to go home to Michigan, where people knew me in school. Home where everyone spoke English. Instead of notes being passed over my head, it was words. There was only one thing in those words I could understand, and that was my name; which doesn't change no matter which language my classmates were speaking. The rest of the school day was uneventful. I held myself together and attempted to meet a few students and teachers. Later that night, I went into my room and cried. I cried until my parents finally came into the room to comfort me. “Everything will be alright.” said my mom. “It is only going to get better from here.” my dad reassured.
       

The next few weeks were rough. I realized I wasn't exactly admired by many kids in the class. I was a kid who got good grades. Most of the kids in my class did not try to get good grades. The philosophy of many of the obnoxious kids was that if I get good grades, then they will be expected to get good grades as well. In other words, I brought up the expectations.  As the school year went on, I experienced more and more new challenges: Differing cultural views, opposing teaching theories, language barriers, the struggle to fit in, and friend issues.
     

 At this time, when I faced my biggest battles, I also developed an obsession. I wanted to see the world. After only our second week of living in Dreieichenhain,  my family and I took a weekend trip into the medieval town of Heidelberg; famous for their castle overlooking the quaint German town. Amazed at the sights and traditional culture, I absorbed every new experience from famous landmarks, architectural designs, and culinary delights. On September 15th, I boarded yet another form of public transportation. The sleek, pearly white, high speed ICE train transported my family and me out of Germany and into the city of lights. Spending my 12th birthday in Paris was a tremendous opportunity. After exiting the train and finding our way out of the enormous train station, we got in line to take a taxi cab. After waiting several minutes, we were finally only one person away from getting the next cab. That was until a couple of rude French ladies decided to cut in front of the line. Unfortunately we were unable to communicate, so their quick strategy left us open jawed and further away from getting to the hotel. That weekend we spent hours in the immense famous museums, cathedrals, enjoyed the culture of the Parisians and shopped on Champs Elysée.
       

The most memorable moment of the trip was midnight of my exact date of birth. We walked through the cobblestone streets into the open park. Through the trees that lined the street, I noticed a glistening in the moonlight sky. Something sparkling brighter than the stars. There it was! The Eiffel Tower that I had visited and climbed earlier in the morning now more beautiful than its industrial daylight state. We ran to admire the beauty of the tower as it glowed with flashing lights like a giant spastic Christmas tree. At that moment, standing under the 986 foot tall structure, I realized there was more to this journey I was venturing through than what I had seen before now. This was the beginning of something beautiful and adventurous.
       

I made it my mission to adapt and embrace the German culture. This meant new friends, new experiences and most importantly not being afraid of change. I developed lasting bonds with people who shared incredible stories. Friends from England, Pakistan, South Africa, Russia, Japan, the Netherlands, Denmark, Australia, Malaysia, and more. I was able to experience amazing things and travel to unforgettable places. In the span of two years, I visited seventeen different countries. Stepping out of my comfort zone introduced me to new encounters and struggles, but rewarded me with unforgettable friendships and memories.


The author's comments:

I was inspired to write this peice becuase it is purly about my experience moving to a forign contry. I have been working on this peice adding more and more about my experience to it for two years now. Some day I plan to write a book about the wonderful time I spent in Germany. For now, this is what I managed to finish. I enjoy writing it because I have the chance to remember the experience from the very begining and how drasticly it changed.

 

I hope you, as the reader understand that my main motivation in sharing this, is to express that change is a very good thing. Change leads to beautiful adventures. 


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