No song unsung

I'm not the first exchange student, and I certainly won't be the last. I'm also not the first to travel the world or to have seemingly incredible dreams. But this was a first for me. A first with a whole bunch of other firsts inside it, an adventure that brought me to my knees with sadness and lifted me up higher than I've been before.
Many, many people have tried to describe a year of exchange, with varying degrees of success. There is something so inexplicable about what I've experienced for the past ten months and twelve days, since I landed in Germany with little idea of what to say, what to expect and what was going to happen to me. When I think about what this year has been, even to myself, the best words that I come up with have been so often used that they sound trite and meaningless: 'the time of my life;' 'amazing;' 'the best thing to ever happen to me.'
I'd dreamed of going on exchange for years, learning German to fully feel a part of my German heritage and family, meeting people from all over the world, seeing and trying new things, and seeing if I was brave enough, strong enough, to be alone in a new place and to build something for myself there.
In the day-to-day that became my life relatively soon after I arrived, I sometimes forgot that I was an 'exchange student:' that this year was, in fact, just a visit and that I hadn't lived here for as long as I could remember. Every day brought something new to discover, be it a grandiose sunset, a new piece in choir or orchestra, exploring a new city or visiting other exchange students. It was the most natural thing to go to school (though I couldn't understand much), speak (in broken German) with my host family, spend hours and days with my newfound friends (though I couldn't have imagined growing so close to them in such a short space of time). Over time, that became my life, instead of something I was doing for a year, until now, when being any other way than I am seems strange and wrong.
This year has been inscribed into the 'posterity' of the internet on this blog, a way to share tiny parts of my time here. I am so glad and thankful that I could write something to you, to give a glimpse of what seems the most glorious tapestry I could have been woven into.
In less than twelve hours I will be bidding my home here goodbye, reversing the journey I took in September and returning to the United States. Even now, it's hard to believe that I have to leave; up until about the end of May I believed that my time here would go on forever.
On Thursday night I gathered with the Neuer Kammerchor for a party celebrating our choir competition in Italy. That evening we roasted Spanferkel, a whole pig on a spit, and enjoyed summer salads, German cake and lots of bread alongside. Around midnight, the evening of laughter and dancing had to come to an end; my best friend from Colombia was leaving for the airport in just a few hours and I had to begin packing my suitcases.
As we began the long process of thank yous and goodbyes, the choir gathered around us. One light from the house shines into the corner of the memory I carry with me, as I stand under a tree surrounded by altos, sopranos, basses and tenors, holding their hands. With laughter and a few false notes, a song begins. I know all the words, though they are German, know them by heart. I've sung this song in my school, in a basilica in Rome, in neighborhood churches in Germany. As we begin, I suddenly cannot sing anymore. My voice quivers; I've just realized that this is the last time. The last time I will sing with this choir I dreamed of joining, with the people that have become my closest friends, and go home to my family, in the German town with the castle. In that moment, I know that my heart has grown larger than I could imagine, and also that it is going to be soon irrevocably split in two. And despite that great sadness, the happiness is a million times greater; I would do it all, again, the same way, in a heartbeat.
There are no words, no tears or laughter, no pictures that can completely sum up my exchange year in Germany. Nor is there a way to express my gratitude and joy that this opportunity was mine. To my families on both sides of the ocean, my friends old and new now scattered across the world, and to Rotary, the organization that made this year possible for me. It was an honor to be here, an honor to write about my adventures, an honor to realize that I am not the first. I am not the first, and not the last. I return laden with chocolates, postcards and stories, having grabbed everything I could out of this year, but not knowing a lot more than I did when I ate that ice cream back in September. I only know now how much I don't know--how much there is still see, to learn, to make and sing and do.
I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for sharing this year with me. As they say, exchange is not a year in a life; it's a life in a year. And there is a life ahead of me too, one that has been made so much fuller by my time in Germany.
As I said during my countless farewells, we'll see each other again.

With love and gratitude,

Emma

8. September 2012

12. July, 2013

Another day, another adventure

Once there was a girl who went on exchange to Germany. That girl was me. And man, was that girl excited to go. And wasn't she excited to get there, too! And wasn't it just lovely.
But sometimes unseasonable weather and lack of chocolate and a faraway family conspire to create a smashing day of homesickness.
And then, after that day, you feel like you could take on the world. Which you sort of are doing.
And then, after that, you realize that where you are is the best possible place one could be. Exchange is hard to put into words; sometimes it feels tangible and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes there are moments of loneliness, but other, better times there are moments of unloneliness. Unloneliness is when you are surrounded by love on all sides; exchange students, friends, host families, natural families, Rotarians, people at the bakery... And you realize that your heart, your very soul is split in the best possible way between two places on earth, but that's okay because it only makes your heart bigger and stronger.
Naturally, when one feels this way, it is best to tour historic German cities...

  

...watch the sky through the trees...

...look at Zeppelin engines...

...see a large expanse of water for the first time since you flew across the Atlantic...

...sing in sold-out concerts...

...take advantage of Brottag...

...and see that the sun is shining.

So that's what I did. 

Thanks

Exchange is a whirlwind. It's a series of ups and downs, of laughing and crying, of jumping in and jumping out. Three months ago to the day I landed in Frankfurt, met my new family, and began my life here. Looking back on these first months of my time in Germany, the moments of confusion, of fear, of loneliness are definitely there. But way more prominent are the moments where I learned a new German word, where I met new people, where I tried new things and liked them, where I felt at home here.
A member of my Rotary club in Heidenheim remarked that my time in Germany was more than a quarter gone. That's incredible to think about. But so far, I think that I have used my time here well. Looking back, I remember the good parts, and almost all of my memories make me smile.
So, here are some smiley memories from the past few weeks.
I celebrated Thanksgiving with my fellow exhange students, and made a pumpkin pie all by myself.

 It was actually really good!

Our brief bout with Thanksgiving was followed immediately by a dive into Christmas. In Germany this holiday lasts a month or sometimes longer. Advent, the season of counting down to Christmas, means that Christmas decorations and cookies and lights must be prepared in the third week of November. Or earlier. 

We observed this early-Christmas phenomenon with Rotary...

...in the greenhouse where people buy their Christmas decorations...

...in my house, baking cookies...

...in the snow that is all over the place...

...and in Heidenheim, where there is a Winterdorf selling Wurst, Pommes and Pfannkuchen mit Marzipan...

...as well as lights everywhere. 

So, to celebrate the holiday spirit, we went to Ulm. There was a Pfannkuchen Haus, which is basically a restaurant where you can order anything you want (liver, fruit salad, mushrooms, amaretto...) on a gigantic crepe. It is completely the best thing you could ever eat, ever. 

I even ate the bananas.
And then we attended a Weinachtsmarkt (Christmas Market). Aisles and aisles of food, Christmas decorations, people...

...all around the Ulmer Münster.

Schöne Adventszeit! 

Six Week Thoughts, Plus Milk on a Sled

Sometimes I forget I'm an exchange student. No, really. I feel so at home here, so much a part of school and family and choir and friends and pretzels, that sometimes I forget that I'm in Germany as an exchange student. It's difficult to explain. I'm used to only understanding about half of what anyone says to me, and so that's fine, although I really think my language is improving. All in all, I have to remind myself that this is where I worked so hard to get, what I looked forward to for almost a year, what consumed a large part of my thought process and conversations for quite a long time. The reason that I have to remind myself of this is that it feels so, so right to be in Germany, like I've been here forever (and also like I'm learning and seeing new things every day. I feel, quite honestly, and as cliched as it may sound, like I belong here.
It's crisp and lovely in Heidenheim, and it's hard and wonderful to believe that I've already been here for six weeks.

Saturday night was spent with my family at the Museumsnacht (yes, my very own 'Night at the Museum'), where one purchases a ticket and then can go into many art galleries, museums, the Schloss and other nice places. You also have the opportunity to ride in this adorable bus!

We walked in the dark city...

...admiring paintings....

...a jazzy man playing the piano...

...sculpture, both in a hip gallery...

Photo from http://www.wcm-open.de

...and in a church from the 14th century.

In the Schloss, we were greeted by a man on stilts, offering us chocolate...

...and then we looked around in the Schlossmuseum. Now. I love museums. And this one did not disappoint. Although we were in an old castle, the museum was for vehicles. And it was cool.

We saw an old fashioned mail wagon (the mail in Germany is always yellow)...

...the wagon where a shepherd would sleep...

...a sled that would be perfect for a Victorian date...

...an ingenious contraption for carrying milk through the snow...

...and then, as if that wasn't enough, I found my dream car. Too bad I'm not allowed to drive in Germany....

We took a quick bratwurst break...

...and then watched a lovely Oriental/modern dance performance, in which my sister balanced a sword on her head. 

After the performance, we all got up and danced to a medieval band.

The whole night was like a dream to me. Not because I saw a cool car or a castle or a man on stilts (although all of that was fabulous), but because I had a moment where I realized Oh, right, I'm an exchange student. I remembered the day I got the email telling me where I was going to live, who my family was; I remembered the frequent Google image searches of the Schloss, I remembered when the word 'Heidenheim' was the only thing that got me through math class. Suddenly, I realized that it was the city of Heidenheim, maybe more than the country of Germany, that I looked forward to all those long months of applications and checkups and emails. Last night, as I looked out over my city's lights on the way up to the Schloss, I was literally living the dream. Exactly where I had imagined myself for so long, speaking German with my family, feeling like I belonged. 

On The Second Day Of Fall I Went Looking For A Sheep

Today as I pleasantly ate my midday yogurt, my host mother remarked that, oh, by the way, she had heard the sheep.
Now, my neighborhood is not what you would call rustic, and certainly not a haven for farm animals. However, I was intrigued by this statement, and learned upon further questioning that in the Schwäbische Alps, herds of sheep frequently come to the local meadow for a few days, crop the grass nicely, and then move on to another valley. The idea of having a local sheep herd appealed to me, as you might have guessed, and after munching a small piece of cake I set off, camera in hand, to find the sheep.
First I found a cat.

But then, after following some telltale droppings, smells and sheepish sounds...

...I found the sheep, complete with shepherd, complete with crook. (Shepherding is a profession in Germany.)

Seeing these sheep, for me, was a really remarkable experience. There was something so utterly German, so timeless about it. Somehow, it was quintessential to see these sheep, walk down the crunchy gravel path, and greet the others out enjoying the afternoon.

After a few more photos, I continued on my walk. The air had a single crisp edge that brushed against the sunshine as the green and yellow landscape shone vibrant alongside the rust-red roofs. 

After a while I made my way back, along the path...

...under the overhanging crabapples...

...past the sheep...

...and all the way back home.