Six months.
It is now mid-February. The sky over Poland is gray, the temperature rarely hovers above -15 celsius, and the streets of Wrocław are covered in dirty snow. I walk around my city, my home for one year, and I cannot help but feel like I am in some old World War II movie. Winter is rough in this part of the world. I feel the uncomfortable cold- it cuts to the bone. I watch mothers fret, fastening mittens and wrapping scarves tight around the necks of small children. I can no longer remember being that small. I often find myself recollecting old times, remembering moments from my childhood, from middle school, from senior year. In six short months, I have grown up in ways I never could have imagined possible. Far away from everyone and everything I have never known, I have begun to recognize who it is I am, and who it is I would like to become.
I came here on a plane six months ago scared, nervous, timid, and extremely unsure of myself. I can admit now that I was a mess. I treated my friends badly, I treated my family badly, I was blinded by something that resembled love, I forgot to take care of myself- I lost myself somewhere in my own selfish and dull day to day routine.
I do not know how I ended up here. When I am in an especially beautiful place here, or if I see something especially interesting, I often think to myself, “who would have known, one year ago, that I would be here.”
I am not sure how to explain to those of you who have not studied abroad, or been involved in a program similar to Rotary, the life of an exchange student. It is a lot different than I expected it to be. Some days, you float around in an euphoric state. Even the garbage that litters the sidewalks possesses some sort of beauty. Some days, you wake up and you dread the start of another day without your family and friends, without people who understand you and know something about your past. Some days, you are just content.
My three best friends are from different parts of the world. Two mexicans, one brazilian. And I can thank the three of them for freeing me from the worry that used to plague me. My friend Robson (brazilian), when I find myself in frantic worry, always puts his hand on my shoulder, and says to me: “Julia, life is to enjoy. Stop making storms in glasses of drinking water.”
“Look at the view, young lady, look at the view.” On the days I feel like I am trudging through a scene out of an old war movie, I remember this quote, and suddenly the sky looks a little bit bluer.
I am writing this in Italy. My host family took me to the Italian alps for vacation. I am so lucky, so ridiculously lucky, to have seen and experienced so much here. Europe is a continent full of rich history. Poland is a country with rich history. I learn something new everyday.
And not just world history. I have learned how to conquer loneliness, fear, and to see beauty in all of the small things. I have learned to appreciate the sound of my own voice, the shape of my own body, the words that flow freely from head to paper. I have learned to appreciate the talents I have, and to work on the many faults. I RECOGNIZE the faults now, whereas before I was too stubborn to pay them any notice. I am content in knowing that I can be my own best friend. I am content in knowing that I can learn to live with differences, that I can understand people of different backgrounds even if I do not necessarily understand their actions.
I am ready for the next four months. And I cannot believe how fast time flies by.
