Wow, what a journey I’ve had.
Finally, it was the weekend I had been waiting for even before I left for my stay in Germany. The nights and days leading up to that weekend, I was incredibly anxious. Sitting still was nearly impossible, I had the constant urge to dance around happily but also cry because it’s sad that its all over.
Goodbyes are hard, no matter how much--or little--you know a person. Saying goodbye to people at the stable and to the family I was staying with was hard. I’m always terrible at them. I never know the right things to say and when to say them. I really hope to come back and visit all these wonderful people someday.
Jill picked me up on Friday to take me touring Holland. It was a blast--short but sweet. It started out in the most hilarious way, too. We stopped for gas before we hit the road. Jill and Dave had a rental car. Jill and I went to get some coffee and to go to the bathroom while Dave filled up gas. While we got our coffees and paid, Dave paid also and left. We walked out of the gas station building and towards the fuel pump Dave was at. We were talking about something and were a bit distracted. I opened up the car door and sat down in the back seat, already fumbling for the seatbelt. Jill was looking for a cup holder for her coffee and noticed that there were two when there was only one in the rental car. Suddenly a voice in a German accent said “SORRY?!” Jill and I were shocked as we saw the driver was in fact not Dave and ran out of the car, laughing, and we found the real Dave sitting in the real car shaking his head. Only Jill and I would do something so stupid but hilarious as that. Whatever nice thoughts that man had about Americans are probably gone now!
We drove through the beautiful Netherlands countryside and eventually found ourselves at an amazingly delicious pannekoekenhuis. Pannekoekens are a bit like crepés except Dutch and better. You can put anything you want on them and they are awesome.
After, we drove to Jill’s friend’s house, where we stayed the night. In the morning we got up early and went onto the extremely crowded train to Amsterdam.
Amsterdam was not what I was expecting. I have seen so many beautiful pictures of the city and thought that it would be picturesque around every corner, which wasn’t necessarily the case. Amsterdam's center is very beautiful, with many tall, old houses and the canals were wonderful to ride the boat on, but the center of Amsterdam is somewhat smaller than I imagined. Then again, I was only there for one day and didn’t get to see the whole city. But I think you might get my point.
Anyway, I had the opportunity to go to the Van Gogh Museum and the Anne Frank Huis. Both were awesome. The Van Gogh Museum really captures the timeline of Van Gogh’s life by showing his paintings in chronological order. The Anne Frank Huis was something, too, but I was expecting it to be less of a museum. It was cool to see the things I had read and studied about in grade school but walking through the house, it no longer looked like a house to me. I had difficulty imagining anyone living there. Another misconception I had was that the place they lived in was small and cramped, but in fact is wasn’t nearly as claustrophobic as I had imagined. I suppose that is because in the plays and books I had read about Anne Frank and her family, it was described that way. Don’t get me wrong, living like they did for so long must have been very hard. But for whatever reason, I thought it was cramped living on top of everything else.
Later, we ate dinner at a really nice café. Jill and I had great cream of tomato soup and a lecker vegetarian pie.
Then it was time to look for a train to head back home. We found one, sat down, and thought we’d have a normal train ride. Boy, were we wrong.
It started out because Jill and I were chatting in English about horses (naturally). There was a guy sitting alone on the other side of the car. He struck up a conversation by asking us where we were from, and we told him. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then we asked him where he was from and he answered southern Turkey. All of a sudden he went into the strangest rant about how many Jack Daniels he had had and how he was once in a drug cartel and he was in the navy and how he doesn’t believe in genocide. After that I didn’t understand much, but both Jill and I were laughing hysterically. He just went on and on and then he pulled out a cigarette. We told him that he couldn’t smoke on the train and he should just get off for a smoke and catch the next train to wherever he was going. We hoped he would follow our advice because at this point he was starting to get annoying with all of his weird made-up stories. He decided this was a good idea and disappeared for a while at a stop, but strangely came back again, this time with a Indian guy who we figured out spoke little English and most likely no Dutch. But this guy sat him down and talked to him all the same. The poor Indian guy just stared at us wide eyed and nodded and shook his head every once in a while. I wasn’t really paying much attention to what the conversation was between them, but at one point the “Turkish” insane/drunk/high/or a combination thereof guy pulled out his ID and handed it to the complete stranger. He left himself completely vulnerable. Then he got bored of the Indian and went to talk to some boorish French people, then disappeared again for awhile. He came back a little while later and we asked him where he was going. He said he had no idea, then proceeded to try to hit on me, got rejected, walked off, and disappeared from our lives. Meanwhile, while this was all happening, the people sitting behind me were dressed in bright green party outfits, including green felt shorts, playing German karnival music, and laughing and drinking, which seemed pretty fitting while all the conundrum with the “Turkish” guy was going on.
I guess you could say it was a pretty wild ride home.
On top of it all, we got home late when we all needed to get up early the next morning. It was my last night of my six-month adventure in Europe. Dave drove me the next morning to the Düsseldorf airport, where I got a little panicky when I was checking my bags and going through security. I was anxious. It was, after all, the first time I had ever gone through an airport and flown on an airplane by myself. It was hard to sit still and every time someone spoke to me they got annoyed because I needed them to repeat what they said to me many times until I understood. Someone would speak to me and I would do the appropriate thing and look them in the eye and look like was listening but I wouldn’t hear a thing that came out of their mouth. It was like they were mouthing whatever they wanted to communicate to me instead of speaking. This always happened to me when I get worked up and nervous. It happened so many times with this one woman that she even asked, “Do you really speak English?” Story of my life.
Anyway. From Düsseldorf, I went to Amsterdam. I had calmed down quite a bit in the plane, which was good because immigration officers pulled me aside when I went through security in Amsterdam because I had been in Europe longer than I was supposed to be without a visa.. I calmly told them that I had no idea about that law and that it was my first time to Europe. They let me go without reporting me (which would have resulted in me not allowed to go to Europe for 5 years!). I was super lucky.
I bought some lunch and chocolate and found the terminal that would take me to Minneapolis. I couldn’t help but notice how drab looking Minnesotans were compared to anyone else in the airport. I even knew that it was the right terminal before I looked at the sign because Minnesotans are so easy to pick out of an international crowd. Well, for me, anyway. I suppose that is because I grew up there. But still. It humored me.
The plane ride itself was fine. It was better than the one to Germany. The one to Germany was hard because it was an overnight flight and I didn’t sleep one wit. That flight was a daytime one and I had no problem lazing around and reading for 8+ hours without really losing any sleep.
When I finally made my way home, I looked out the window and saw how drab MN looks compared to Amsterdam. Europe is such a beautiful place to live.
My mom came and picked me up and we got Chinese food. It was the first time I had eaten tofu and vegetables in general in 3 months. It tasted great, but I was exhausted and went to sleep that night without a problem.
The next day, I went to visit Blackshire and rode Zorro.
The day after, I was going to surprise Chris by showing up at his front door. I hadn’t told him when I was coming home. Just as I was about to leave, I saw that Chelsea and Chase were walking to the barn to see their mare and Chris was behind them! I couldn’t believe it! I went out and the look on his face was hilarious. I had a great rest of the day with him.
The rest of the week, I went to work at Blackshire and hung out with friends. Noelle came home. Needless to say, it’s been great to be back, though I do miss Germany. Home is different than I remember. I have changed. So has home. Time goes on.
This experience was irreplaceable. I would do it all over again if I could. I’ll go back and visit someday, I’m sure. Till then, I’ll hang around close to home and ride and maybe go to school part time.
And don’t worry, this blog ain’t going nowhere.
