Ich weiß es ist ein langer text und auf englisch, aber es ist echt mega schwer in Worte zu fassen, was dieses Auslandsjahr für mich bedeutet. Und dashier ist die beste Beschreibung, die in Worte zu fassen ist.
Der Text ist nicht von mir, aber ich weiß leider nicht wer der ursprüngliche Autor ist.
Ein Post über meinen ersten Monat in den USA ist in arbeit, aber ich bin soooo beschäftigt, dass ich einfach keine Zeit zu nichts hab.
Exchange is change. Rapid, brutal, beautiful, hurtful,
colourful, amazing, unexpected, overwhelming and most of all constant change.
Change in lifestyle, country, language, friends, parents, houses, school,
simply everything.
Exchange is realizing that everything they told you
beforehand is wrong, but also right in a way.
Exchange is going from thinking you know who you are, to
having no idea who you are anymore to being someone new. But not entirely new.
You are still the person you were before but you jumped into that ice cold
lake. You know how it feels like to be on your own. Away from home, with no one
you really know. And you find out that you can actually do it.
Exchange is thinking. All the time. About everything.
Thinking about those strange costumes, the strange food, the strange language.
About why you’re here and not back home. About how it’s going to be like once
you come back home. How that girl is going to react when you see her again.
About who’s hanging out where this weekend. At first who’s inviting you at all.
And in the end where you’re supposed to go, when you’re invited to ten
different things. About how everybody at home is doing. About how stupid this
whole time-zone thing is. Not only because of home, but also because the tv ads
for shows keep confusing you.
Thinking about what’s right and what’s wrong. About how
stupid or rude you just were to someone without meaning to be. About the point
of all this. About the sense of life. About who you want to be, what you want
to do. And about when that English essay is due, even though you’re marks don’t
count. About whether you should go home after school, or hang out at someone’s
place until midnight. Someone you didn’t even know a few months ago. And about
what the hell that guy just said.
Exchange is people. Those incredibly strange people, who
look at you like you’re an alien. Those people who are too afraid to talk to
you. And those people who actually talk to you. Those people who know your
name, even though you have never met them. Those people, who tell you who to
stay away from. Those people who talk about you behind your back, those people
who make fun of your country. All those people, who aren’t worth your giving a
damn. Those people you ignore.
And those people who invite you to their homes. Who keep
you sane. Who become your friends.
Exchange is music. New music, weird music, cool music,
music you will remember all your life as the soundtrack of your exchange. Music
that will make you cry because all those lyrics express exactly how you feel,
so far away. Music that will make you feel like you could take on the whole
world. And it is music you make. With the most amazing musicians you’ve ever
met. And it is site reading a thousand pages just to be part of the school
band.
Exchange is uncomfortable. It’s feeling out of place,
like a fifth wheel. It’s talking to people you don’t like. It’s trying to be
nice all the time. It’s bugs.. and bears. It’s cold, freezing cold. It’s
homesickness, it’s awkward silence and its feeling guilty because you didn’t
talk to someone at home. Or feeling guilty because you missed something because
you were talking on Skype.
Exchange is great. It’s feeling the connection between
you and your host parents grow. It’s knowing in which cupboard the peanut
butter is. It’s meeting people from all over the world. It’s having a place to
stay in almost every country of the world.
It’s cooking food from your home country and not messing
up. It’s seeing beautiful landscapes that you never knew existed.
Exchange is exchange students. The most amazing people in
the whole wide world. Those people from everywhere who know exactly how you
feel and those people who become your absolute best friends even though you
only see most of them 3 or 4 times during your year. The people, who take
almost an hour to say their final goodbyes to each other. Those people with the
jackets full of pins. All over the world.
Exchange is falling in love with this amazing, wild,
beautiful country. And with your home country.
Exchange is frustrating. Things you can’t do, things you
don’t understand. Things you say, that mean the exact opposite of what you
meant to say. Or even worse… Exchange is understanding.
Exchange is unbelievable.
Exchange is not a year in your life. It’s a life in one
year.
Exchange is nothing like you expected it to be, and
everything you wanted it to be.
Exchange is the best year of your life so far. Without a
doubt. And it’s also the worst. Without a doubt.
Exchange is something you will never forget, something
that will always be a part of you. It is something no one back at home will
ever truly understand.
Exchange is growing up, realizing that everybody is the
same, no matter where they’re from. That there is great people and douche bags
everywhere. And that it only depends on you how good or bad your day is going
to be. Or the whole year.
And it is realizing that you can be on your own, that you
are an independent person. Finally. And it’s trying to explain that to your
parents.
Exchange is dancing in the rain for no reason, crying
without a reason, laughing at the same time. It’s a turmoil of every emotion
possible.
Exchange is everything. And exchange is something you
can’t understand unless you’ve been through it !