I am sitting in a high-end, equipped-with-wifi, but-still-cost-a-euro-to-store-luggage long-distance coach bus, on my way home to Berlin. I am alone. There are probably about 40 seats, and I am the only one that bought a ticket, and the poor bus driver knew my name before I even got on the bus. And although I sat a few rows back, he can definitely see me, because when I pretend to sleep he turns down the music, and when I took off my jacket he turned off the heat, and now I am crying. Let me back up, to about a week ago when I initially tried to write this blog post.
A week ago, I started my long break. The first half was spent visiting friends from Furman who are studying abroad in Brussels and the second half was spent visiting my aunt who lives in Germany. In my blog post, I talk about how homesick I am, how sad I am that I am missing Furman homecoming, and Furman mountains, and Furman apple-picking, and Furman fall, and Furman food trucks (how is that a thing now that I have left?? a little bitter, guys) but all of this is fine because I have my Furman family here in Europe. That blog post, cut out half the story.
Because then I left my friend.
I came to Düsseldorf to visit my aunt. And I was upset I was missing Halloween, and Ohio cold fall, and my parents soup sundays but once again she made me feel like I was at home. I was carving pumpkins with her, and eating chocolate chip cookies, and doing American fall, but also with the best parts of German fall, like Federweisser and walks along the Rhein.
And then I left my aunt, because apparently you actually have to go to school when you study abroad.
It is nice to visit them, and it is nice to have them here and visiting them was relaxing and refreshing, and being with them made me feel like home. But it is hard to see them, and then leave them. And as much as I like Berlin, as much as I am excited to go back and see my host mom, and experience a German Christmas Market, and watch music videos in German class and eat some questionable form of pork from the side of the road, I am terribly homesick.
2.5 years ago, I choose to go to Furman because I am a homebody, and as an 18 year old I thought it was unacceptable to be so attached to home, and I knew if I didn’t go far enough away, I would be too tempted to go home often, and I would never learn about independence, (or whatever my 18 year old brain thought I would learn). It lead to a ton of crying my Freshman year. Eventually Furman became home, I found family in my clubs and my hall, and I made friends. I was proud of the little mountains that I lived so close to. I came to identify as someone who lived in Greenville, and I had favorite restaurants and grocery stores and coffee shop. I felt at home again, and I thought, well now that I am 20, and officially an adult, going to Berlin will be alright, I will be independent, I won’t get homesick, that is just for children, and I got that out of my system already.
And now I am sitting alone on a bus, with tears in my eyes, rubbing the snot dripping down my nose with one of the 3 t-shirts I’ve been wearing for the past 10 days, and making some nice bus driver extremely uncomfortable.
I tell people all the time about my adjustment was to college, I think it’s easy to say everything is so much fun, and with social media everyone looks like they are having such a great time but don’t trust social media. When I went home, and I told my friends that sometimes I don’t feel that great, every single one of my friends felt the same way. No joke, every single one. People, first year students living far from home, please, talk about missing home, because if you feel that way and don’t say anything, other people feel the same way and don’t say anything and everyone thinks they are a freak when really you all are missing out on great bonding activities. Ex: “Wait you miss the place you lived for the past 18 years, and now for the first time you have left?” “Dude, ME TOO!” “You know what makes me feel better? Stuffing my face with cookie dough, and carving pumpkins, and fingerpainting!” “WOAH, that sounds great let’s do that together sometime” what a great way to bond and make new friends . . . You don’t have to fight the Heimatweh, just because you think you’re at the age you seem all Wanderlust. It doesn’t mean that you made the wrong choice in school or that you are awful at making friends, it means that in a few weeks you weren’t able to find/create the community that took you 18 years to create at home. It’s alright to feel homesick, or maybe I am just trying to validate myself?
My aunt, who I think is 28, but she is actually a little older, is a full fledged adult, with a job, and rent, and a husband, and she tells me when she initially would visit home and then have to fly back it was really hard. Her family was one place, her life was another, and it makes it hard. But how thankful we are that we can get homesick. I love how much I miss my siblings, because in highschool it felt like all we did was fight, but when I left for Furman, and I missed them, I realized how close I am to them. Now in Berlin, crying on a bus, shoving multiple brownies into my mouth at the same time (because that is how you deal with tears), and missing Furman. I am shocked, amazed, thankful about how quickly I developed these feelings towards my school. In just two years, I have become painfully attached to Furman.
Stupid Furman, that makes me miss you so freaking bad, that I am forced to eat all the chocolate my aunt packed me until I have a sugar headache.
The homesickness, makes me feel embarrassed, and in 7 hours when I get home to my host mom, I will most likely start crying again, and she will treat me like a child even though I am less than a week away from being 21, and I will feel so stupid, but I am so happy that I love something so much, to make me act like this on “public-but-really-actually-private” transportation.
P.S. Mom, don’t worry. 90 percent of the time, I love Berlin, and I love school, and I am learning a lot, and I will still be a happy person when I return, I am seeing more countries than I ever thought possible, and meeting really cool people, and becoming cultured. I think that this is just one of those like, growing moments that I am supposed to be having. And also, no matter how many times I realize that I will always miss you no matter how old I get, I still don’t plan on living in your basement.
