Can you believe it? I know I can’t. At the same time as the last 61 days, better known as 2 months, have flown by, it also feels several millennia ago that I wandered up the ramp into Charles de Gaulle airport (heck, it feels like a millennium ago that I finished my first term of school and that was about a week ago). With zero idea of what I was actually getting myself into. Zero. But then again when are we ever sure of what we’re getting ourselves into?
I’m most definitely at least a little bit crazy. You have to be to, as Nicole put it, jump into the abyss without a parachute (sauf elle l’a dit en français).
To travel half way around the world to live in a foreign country where they speak a language you hardly do for 5 months in a family you’ve never met with whom there is no guarantee you’ll get along. To go to a school where you don’t speak the major language well, where the only person you know is your host brother who you’ve been with for less than a week.
And at that school the people are, of course, teenagers, who we all know are probably the worst when it comes to the new kid.
So yeah, I jumped into the abyss, and the rocks have given me some scars, but it didn’t and won’t break me. I haven’t reached the bottom, I’m not sure if or when I will, so I can’t tell you what the world looks like from here. But I can tell you that the world looks different from here than it did from the top. I wouldn’t say it’s better, I wouldn’t say it’s worse: it’s just different.