The End of Study Abroad: Vi Ses Denmark

I can still remember clearly as day the first time I walked into this house. I still can feel the warm sun on my skin, the light breeze, and the perfect 70 degree temperature. I still remember starting to unpack everything, unsure of what to expect out of the next four months of my life and the people I would meet, the classes I would be taking, and whether I would love my time here or hate it. Today, exactly four months to the day, I sit in my room with it looking like it did the first day I arrived: the desks are clear, my suitcases on the ground full of clothes, and me wondering if everything around me was reality or just a dream.

Where did the last four months go? Did they even happen?

Four months ago I was excited, scared, and nervous; today I am conflicted. I'm ready to go home. I miss my family, my friends, my dog, my car, but I also feel like I'm leaving my family all over again. I cannot even begin to describe my gratitude to my host family and everything they have done for me. They took me, a complete stranger, into their home, their family, and their culture with a level of warmth and openness I have never experienced before. I was their first host child so I can only imagine what their expectations were when they picked me up from the airport. I can only hope I lived up them.

Looking back at everything I did and saw in the span of a semester makes me dizzy. I saw a nation from head to toe, travelled to Paris, to Hungary, and to Austria. I made dozens of new friends, tried new things, and even did a little learning along the way. Even with all the photos on Facebook and the stories in my head I can now tell, it still all feels like I was in some dream, some massive, beautiful, surreal dream, and I don't want to wake up.

Angels, both of them

I can only hope I won't cry when I say good bye at the airport tomorrow. 

JP