I always get nervous when the airplane takes off. No matter how many planes I've been on or will be on, the thrill and nervousness from take off will always be there. As the plane climbs into the sky, I look around and realize this is the first time I've travelled without friends or family. Although I brace myself for a wave of anxiety and panic, I find that I am surprisingly calm. As someone in a perpetual state of anxiousness, this comes as a pleasant surprise.
I am already imagining the old, beautiful city streets and the rivers and new and exciting sights and sounds...and the delicious food too. I settle in to my cramped seat, accidentally elbowing my neighbor. I apologize furiously before finally closing my eyes, visions of bratwurst and schnitzel already dancing in my head.
The Train
The train pulls away from the station. I look out the window and wave goodbye to my relatives and in a flash, I am alone in a foreign country where my knowledge of the language is as simplistic as being able to say "Guten Tag" or "Danke".
There is a businessman seated across from me, typing away on his laptop. In another moment, a woman comes up to me and says something in German that I interpret as "Is this seat taken?". I smile and gesture to the seat next to me and the woman sits down. I silently hope that that's all I need to be able to communicate without revealing my lack of knowledge of the German language. I resume looking out of the window.
I sit forward and realize that all of the muscles in my back and neck are tense. No one is here to help translate, and I hope that I remember when to get off the train...but what if I get off at the wrong stop and what happens if someone tries to speak to me and I don't understand them and oh god I'm going to end up getting lost forever....why am I here...this whole trip was a bad idea...
I stretch my neck for a few moments. My constant stream of thoughts is interrupted by a train worker looking at tickets. She looks at my ticket and speaks a quick stream of foreign words. I tense up again as I have to explain that I don't speak the language. In English she explains that I didn't give her the right ticket. I hurriedly dig around in my bag and hand her her the correct one. She punches it, gives it back to me, and moves on without missing a beat. I let out a silent sigh of relief.
The Bike
Cars and pedestrians and bikers are around me in a swirl of movement. I feel myself jump a little and pedal a little faster and pray a lot harder. Behind me, I hear what sounds like a bike hitting the pavement. Once I safely get across the complex mess of German streets and sidewalks and crosswalks, I look back to the other side to see my biking partner struggling to get her bike upright. Once the light turns green again, she pedals across and the journey continues.
Being someone who self identifies as "directionally challenged" it is surprising that I decided to try to figure out my way back from the university to the apartment via a different route. In a fit of (foolish) courage, I declared I could get back to the apartments down an alternate path. Only one other brave soul took up the challenge.
We find we are lost (of course) and consider using the maps (almost) as we wander around an increasingly unfamiliar area.
"We should go toward the river."
The streets start looking a little more familiar (maybe) and we strategize the best way to get back to the apartment ("what street is it on again?").
"Oh! I know where we are!"
We pass by several shops I remember looking in...cross another busy road...take another wrong turn.
"We went too far"
We cross the last street and proudly pedal our bikes up to the door to our apartment, just as the others in our group who took the other path pedal up and we begin to dramatically recall our personal tale of mishap and triumph.
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