I like to travel. It is thrilling experiencing a new city. Hearing the local language, seeing the sights, watching how people live, eating the local cuisine. Each time I have traveled, I have learned something new about myself. Each of those experiences, the lonely ones, the happy ones, and the sad ones, have kept me curious about the world, and have inspired me to continue learning more about it. Here are a few of those experiences.
I remember when it first sunk in. I was sitting in the breakfast room and at a table across from me was a couple eating breakfast. They were conversing softly. I think French already sounds beautiful when it’s spoken but it sounds even better when it is whispered. Their conversation was punctuated by the soft sound of their silverware tinkling on their plate. I looked down at my own plate. The croissants were baked fresh that morning; the orange juice was freshly squeezed; and the coffee had just been brewed. I was just a random person having breakfast with other random people. Even though we were staying at the same hotel, we probably never saw each other again. They probably don’t remember me, but four years later they are still clear in my mind. I remember feeling overjoyed. I had the entire week ahead of me and there was so much to see and experience. I was in Paris.
It was early in the morning and my dad was driving me to the airport. In the backseat were two suitcases packed to the brim with clothes and whatever else I could fit. As we drove, three boxes, also packed to the brim with my belongings, were making their way halfway across the country in a delivery truck. I would meet them at my new home three days later. I was a mixture of emotions: excited, nervous, afraid, tired, and very sad. I spent the night before sleeping on the couch. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep in my bed for what would be the last time. Not that it mattered since I barely slept anyway. I made my tearful goodbyes to my mom and brothers before climbing into the car with my dad. And I had a tearful goodbye with him at the airport drop-off curb. Four hours later, I was in a city I had never been to before, going to an apartment I had never seen before, and embarking on a new life in a city where I didn’t know anyone. Seven years later, I am still here, and I have a group of friends and a sense of community.
I just finished walking through a museum filled with marble statues and antiques from all over the world. I had been the only one in there and I think I took the person at the front desk by surprise when I first got there. Now I was sitting on a bench overlooking the large grassy area behind the university. I was watching a group of people play frisbee. I could have been at the quad at any American university, but I was halfway across the world in Bonn. I guess student life is the same everywhere you go. A person on a bike stopped and parked her bike next to a tree and asked if she could sit down. After a few minutes of silence, she asked me a question. That question turned into an hour-long conversation. We talked about being college students and the differences between American universities and German universities and our different experiences. We talked about life in America and life in Germany. After an hour had passed, she got up to get her bike. We said goodbye and we went our separate ways.
A Walk Through The City 