It’s 8am, and I’m sitting in the Brussels airport sipping a little taste of home: a venti caramel macchiato. My life packed away is sitting right next to me, which is making people a little mad considering the luggage I have takes the space of probably 3 people. I’m flying on Croatian airlines in about 3 hours to my next residence.
It’s difficult for me to fully grasp what has been happening in my life. Something doesn’t even seem real about what I’m doing. Yesterday was just a normal day at work when my coach informed me I would be leaving the Belgian house for Croatia the next morning at 6am. The news didn’t even faze me; I knew they would send me on my way with little forewarning. But when I really think about it, I realize how much I love the spontaneity of my life right now. My roommates and I reflected on the past 2 weeks we have spent together last night, and often commented on how those 2 weeks seemed like they lasted 2 years instead. Why? Because we woke up each day having NO idea what was is store for us – what we would learn, discover, laugh about, who we would meet, where we would be sleeping that night…erasing the routine of everyday life halts time in a good way, and I have undoubtedly taken advantage of this discovery.
I am really going to miss my fellow trainees – we have had some unmatchable memories together. Last night we played the “highs and lows” game (naming our highs and lows of the past 2 weeks – my favorite game I think ever) and we chatted about the hilarity of our time in Belgium and Holland over my wonderful good-bye dinner of pesto pasta, salad, cheese, and whisky. Finding out our country placement, racing home to change, and popping champagne on the tiny streets of Overpelt, Belgium won my vote as the biggest high. And low? Maybe walking into our hippie, smoky Amsterdam hostel located in a basement and named “Bob’s” on Friday night. We were still in our suits and had just driven 2 hours straight from the office, and all chatter ceased as well clacked down the steps. The permanently-stoned receptionist just stared at us for about 2 minutes until Cherise whipped out her Dutch and asked for a room, which we shared with about 10 other people. I had to resort to sleeping with all my clothes covering the dingy comforter, and shamefully used the inside of my running shorts as a washcloth. All part of the Amsterdam experience though, right? We did have an amazing time; it’s pretty difficult to not enjoy a town with as much character as Amsterdam. The Anne Frank House, the Red Light district, the Holland world cup game, the beautiful canals and boathouses – all blend together to form a distinct, kooky, historical beauty well-deserving of the heavy tourism it attracts. After a couple days in Amsterdam, we headed to my roommates house in Lelystad, Holland, about 50 minutes outside the city. Her wonderful family welcomed all of us with open arms, providing us with huge comfy beds and a new unbelievable meal every hour. Her family is Javanese and Surinamese, but have lived in the Netherlands for 20 years now. Fried rice, noodles, chicken and egg soup, spicy liver (sounds gross but actually delectable), home-cooked prawn chips, chicken – the cuisine kept coming and we kept eating. Her mother also cooked us traditional Dutch food like friktots, frikadel, croquettes, and in between eating we walked throughout the small city or just watched some of the exciting world cup games with her extended family. If I ever have the chance to welcome 7 foreigners into my home and treat them the way her family treated us, I will – such a commendable and kind thing to do, and I will never forget it!
So I have to bring you back to the present because it is time for me to check in – I think I’m ready? I hope? I’m flying over to Eastern Europe, where Pedro will pick me up from the airport and bring me to our hotel. Here goes nothing…
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