I am currently sitting in the coffee shop of the Brussels airport, on an emotional bubble between bursting into tears and cracking up laughing. Now the lack of sleep is a major factor in my emotional state, but I am ridiculously nervous. I am waiting to meet Nora whose flight has supposedly arrived already. There is a knot in my stomach that I know will not disappear until I see her face. I am in a sea of strangers. I am relieved to be here, but petrified at the same time.
As I exited customs (which was basically just a hallway…did I do that wrong?), there was a huge crowd of excited Europeans, holding signs and waving flags for relatives and exchange students and friends. There were so many flash bulbs and cheers that I almost felt as if I was strolling across the red carpet with my heavy luggage and sagging face. Many held signs with warm greetings like, “Welcome, Audrey!” while sporting curious and excited faces. I was tempted to rush up to one of them and claim an alternate identity of one of the exchange students, just so I could feel like I belong. But instead I retreated to the coffee shop. And here I sit. Fingers crossed that I will settle in and feel like I sort of fit.
I want to reach for my Blackberry, and feel the comfort of the rubbery case in my hands. I even imagine that I feel it vibrate. But no, it is long gone. I feel like somebody cut off my hand.
My mother forewarned me: “You will get homesick.” I just chuckled. But I already kind of see what she means. This is much like an American airport, but there is a different air about it. The mannerisms, the speech, the personality – they’re all slightly different. For instance, I cannot eavesdrop. To my right, I hear Spanish. In front of me, French. The signs posted about, German. It is both fascinating and intimidating. It is different, and it almost makes me wish I stood in the Newark airport a moment or two longer just to soak up good old Amurrica for a few more moments.
Ohmigoodness a strange European man just gave me a flashlight with a lil note then retracted the gift. Bonjour, Brussels. I am tres confused.
P.S. The restrooms here are putrid.
As I exited customs (which was basically just a hallway…did I do that wrong?), there was a huge crowd of excited Europeans, holding signs and waving flags for relatives and exchange students and friends. There were so many flash bulbs and cheers that I almost felt as if I was strolling across the red carpet with my heavy luggage and sagging face. Many held signs with warm greetings like, “Welcome, Audrey!” while sporting curious and excited faces. I was tempted to rush up to one of them and claim an alternate identity of one of the exchange students, just so I could feel like I belong. But instead I retreated to the coffee shop. And here I sit. Fingers crossed that I will settle in and feel like I sort of fit.
I want to reach for my Blackberry, and feel the comfort of the rubbery case in my hands. I even imagine that I feel it vibrate. But no, it is long gone. I feel like somebody cut off my hand.
My mother forewarned me: “You will get homesick.” I just chuckled. But I already kind of see what she means. This is much like an American airport, but there is a different air about it. The mannerisms, the speech, the personality – they’re all slightly different. For instance, I cannot eavesdrop. To my right, I hear Spanish. In front of me, French. The signs posted about, German. It is both fascinating and intimidating. It is different, and it almost makes me wish I stood in the Newark airport a moment or two longer just to soak up good old Amurrica for a few more moments.
Ohmigoodness a strange European man just gave me a flashlight with a lil note then retracted the gift. Bonjour, Brussels. I am tres confused.
P.S. The restrooms here are putrid.
RSS Feed