So I realize that in my last post I sound like I'm channeling Alanis Morisette, and I know it just sounds weird, but I'll leave it up there for posterity. Amsterdam was really great, despite my emotional awkwardness. I am now back in the good ol' U S of A, and I am happy as a clam! Home is great, I love my family, and I am excited to move back to St. Olaf campus tomorrow morning. Since I got home two days ago, I have: Had my teeth cleaned, gotten my eyes checked, done my laundry, gone back-to-school shopping, had coffee with a good friend, eaten no fewer than 6 sloppy joes, and celebrated Chinese New Year with my Chinese family (Gung hei fat choy!) I feel pretty accomplished, and ready to go back to Olaf.
As far as reflection on this whole experience: OMG IT WAS AWESOME. No, really, it was! I wouldn't trade it for anything. I learned so much about myself, about people in general, about the world and the way it all works; I've had so many eye-opening experiences, met so many amazing people, and seen so many unforgettable things! I'm glad to be home, but all I really want to know is... When can I go back???
Although I know I'm too poor to afford another big trip anytime soon, I'm just outrageously thankful that I had (and took) the opportunity to do so much traveling. I am a brighter, better Sarah because of it, I'm sure. As I said many times to my good friend Bill Hoy yesterday: "I just got back from 5 months abroad --- I am SOOOO Cultured!" I say it as a joke, but really, this trip has changed me (and I'm sure I'll notice more changes as I deal with the culture shock of returning to hectic college life). Anyway, before this post starts to look too Alanis Morisette-y like the last one, I'll end this post with one last story from my trip (Enjoy!)
Airport anecdote: I didn't have a book to read before departing for my 16-hour trip home, and I figured I would buy a book at the airport. I found the book I wanted (which happened to be just about the cheapest book in the store) and it was 10.95 euros, but I only had 10.30 left! Well, I decided I could NOT sit on planes and wait in airports for 16 hours with nothing to do, so... I asked a stranger if he could spare 65 cents. Luckily, he was pretty cool about it, although he laughed at me a little when I explained my situation. I thanked him as he handed me the change, but as I walked away I realized that he had miscounted and only given me 56 cents! I couldn't bring myself to turn around and correct him, so then I had to ask 4 other people before I found someone with a 10 cent piece. I did get laughed at a few more times, but hey, I succeeded in getting the book. The End!
Love you all, the Blog ends here!
Sarah
Friday, February 4, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Amsterdam?
Amsterdam makes me feel… a lot. Amsterdam makes me want to cry, but I’m not entirely sure why. It makes me want to speak to strangers, it makes me want to sit in coffee shop all day with a delicious cappuccino and read and stare at the canals. It makes me want to make art, makes me wish I had my pottery wheel and glazes and canvas and acrylics and rainbow pipe-cleaners. I want to take photos of everything I see, but I can’t bring myself to take out my camera. It makes me want to bake chocolate chip cookies with banana and peanut butter. It makes me confused and lost, it makes me want to be alone but makes me feel very lonely, it makes me want to fall in love, it makes me wonder if I am capable of truly loving, or if anyone can truly love me. It makes me miss Russia, it makes me want to go home, it makes me wonder why I decided to come in the first place. It makes me feel like I don’t know myself, like I don’t exist, like I am completely ordinary and yet oh-so-extraordinary, that no one can understand me although I must be so easy to understand. It makes me want to be a philosopher, makes me want to be a better person, makes me want to sleep all day long, makes me want to read the news. It makes me never want to eat again, makes me want to make beautiful food and eat like there’s no tomorrow. It makes me want to learn everything in the world. I wish I had another month to stay here, but I also just want to be somewhere else --- Anywhere else. Maybe this is all because I’m alone most of the time… but then again, maybe it’s better that I am spending time alone?
The other day I walked into a Dutch Delft-ware shop to look at the ceramics, and I talked to the shopkeeper about the clay bodies and the history of Delftware. Did you know that although delftware pieces always have a white base, they are not made from porcelain? Just an opaque white glaze.
Today I walked through the red light district to get to the oldest church in Amsterdam, which I had to pay to get into, so I just walked down the street to another church. I sat there and counted “Hail Mary” and “Our Father” and “Angel of God” prayers on my fingers, I went through them all 10 or 15 times and then did some freestyle prayer, starting with the prayer that my father helped us make up as children: “Dear God, make me a good girl, take care of Mommy and Daddy and Mary Claire and all of my relatives and their pets (and all of my relatives and their pets that are in heaven)…”
I like to walk along the canals like I know where I’m going (which isn’t that hard, actually). I have to dodge bicycles, and many of the cyclists are singing to themselves (or to anyone who will listen, perhaps.) When they speak Dutch, it sounds like they are speaking English --- only they are just making nonsense sounds peppered with the F-word.
I was taken to a photography museum by my wonderful host, Daan, to whom I apologize profusely for being in such a weird mood all the time. Sorry, Daan… Maybe next time we see each other I’ll be more like myself.
Tomorrow morning I fly back to Minnesota (that is, if I’m not held up in Philadelphia because of the storm that’s coming). I have no doubt that my emotions are going berserk partly because of my impending return to the US and to St. Olaf, which I haven’t seen for 5 months. Parts of me want to go home, but a lot of me wants to keep traveling for the rest of my life: To go back to Russia and live with my amazing host mother, go back to Italy and party with my good friend Laura, back to France and spend my days with my Sister Mary Claire, back to Germany where I can eat schnitzel and hazelnut kuchen with Madeleine every day, back to Belgium to watch Friends and laugh at Flemish people with Guillaume, to stay in Amsterdam and get to know this city with the help of my friend Daan.
I just made half a butternut squash for dinner, baked with butter and cane sugar (they don’t have brown sugar here, I don’t think.) I love my mother, and right now all I can think about is getting a Big Mac in the Philadelphia airport, Eggs Benedict with my friend Anders, and sloppy joes.
I’ll write a more conclusive post from home, when I can have more time to reflect on everything… I love you all!
Sarah
The other day I walked into a Dutch Delft-ware shop to look at the ceramics, and I talked to the shopkeeper about the clay bodies and the history of Delftware. Did you know that although delftware pieces always have a white base, they are not made from porcelain? Just an opaque white glaze.
Today I walked through the red light district to get to the oldest church in Amsterdam, which I had to pay to get into, so I just walked down the street to another church. I sat there and counted “Hail Mary” and “Our Father” and “Angel of God” prayers on my fingers, I went through them all 10 or 15 times and then did some freestyle prayer, starting with the prayer that my father helped us make up as children: “Dear God, make me a good girl, take care of Mommy and Daddy and Mary Claire and all of my relatives and their pets (and all of my relatives and their pets that are in heaven)…”
I like to walk along the canals like I know where I’m going (which isn’t that hard, actually). I have to dodge bicycles, and many of the cyclists are singing to themselves (or to anyone who will listen, perhaps.) When they speak Dutch, it sounds like they are speaking English --- only they are just making nonsense sounds peppered with the F-word.
I was taken to a photography museum by my wonderful host, Daan, to whom I apologize profusely for being in such a weird mood all the time. Sorry, Daan… Maybe next time we see each other I’ll be more like myself.
Tomorrow morning I fly back to Minnesota (that is, if I’m not held up in Philadelphia because of the storm that’s coming). I have no doubt that my emotions are going berserk partly because of my impending return to the US and to St. Olaf, which I haven’t seen for 5 months. Parts of me want to go home, but a lot of me wants to keep traveling for the rest of my life: To go back to Russia and live with my amazing host mother, go back to Italy and party with my good friend Laura, back to France and spend my days with my Sister Mary Claire, back to Germany where I can eat schnitzel and hazelnut kuchen with Madeleine every day, back to Belgium to watch Friends and laugh at Flemish people with Guillaume, to stay in Amsterdam and get to know this city with the help of my friend Daan.
I just made half a butternut squash for dinner, baked with butter and cane sugar (they don’t have brown sugar here, I don’t think.) I love my mother, and right now all I can think about is getting a Big Mac in the Philadelphia airport, Eggs Benedict with my friend Anders, and sloppy joes.
I’ll write a more conclusive post from home, when I can have more time to reflect on everything… I love you all!
Sarah
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