The Sound of One Hand Clapping

It's been a whole month since I left home.

In honor of this terrifying event, I've decided to answer a question every single one of you (Yes, you're all guilty.) has asked me at least a few times.

"How do you feel?"

There is, of course, a reason for my requiring an entire blog post to explain the simple matter of feelings. (Other than my melodramatic side being perfected by my current location.) There's no possible word in either of the two languages I'm able to manage that describes even half of my current feelings.

I'm afraid you're just going to have to settle for a lot of little words that describe pieces of it. Sorry. ("Aw, we have to read a whole blog post from a kid in France! Gosh darn it.")

Buckle your seatbelt. Most of these emotions are not at all pleasant.

The first feeling that I have here in France is (obviously) curiosity. Believe it or not, I didn't come here for nothing, or to get away from Washington for a year. I came here because I was curious about the language, the people, and the culture. I came here because I wanted to learn things, I wanted to learn the language. There's a reason I'm here.

The second feeling directly contradicts the first (of course, because what's life without a little conflict?): homesickness. I want to go home more than I can possibly say. I want to go back to where people speak my language and understand me when I speak. I want to go back to the place my friends and family are. I want my mom and dad worse than a fourth grader faced with summer camp. Every single thing here reminds me of home, because it's not home.

The third feeling ties in: guilt. I am here for a reason. I'm wasting my time whining when I could be spending it having an excellent time. This is a new country, a new experience. Hundreds of kids would die to be able to be in my place. What am I doing being such a baby when I'm so lucky?

The fourth feeling is uncertainty. I'm not sure of myself here. Every basic assumption I've ever had needs to be rethought and redefined. Am I a part of the family, or am I a guest? Am I reacting well in a situation, or am I showing my ignorance? Did the teacher just ask me a question? What did that girl just say to me? What is the teacher talking about? I don't know how to move or act in any given situation.

Next. Exhaustion. Speaking a different language for a good portion of your day is tiring. Having to rethink everything is tiring. Having to act like someone you're not for a whole day is tiring. Having to be around dozens of people at school and then six other people at home when you're an introvert is tiring. Doing all those things at once while battling chronic homesickness and culture shock is absolutely exhausting, and it's really no surprise that I fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow nowadays.

After that comes denial. The catch-all, denial is, and it's hard to squash. You never know what you're going to not believe next. Nothing has really sunk in yet. In Europe? Nah. Not going to see my parents or friends for a year? Yeah right. Nine months to go? Pull the other one. There's absolutely no limits to what your brain with block from your consciousness.

There are probably more I'm not thinking of. There probably always will be. It's very hard to put this feeling into words. But I suppose you can fit it into at least two:

"Exchange Student"

~Josie