It was about 5:45 PM when I finally go onto my flight. To say in the mildest terms, I was a wreck. I was leaving the people who loved me most in the world FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR, who in their right mind does that?! Obviously, if you know an exchange student you will agree they are not the typical breed of human. Saying goodbye to my mom and sister hurt the most. My mom was saying how proud of me she was, all I could do was TRY to thanks her…words will never explain how much I have been blessed by my parents. Saying goodbye to my sister was almost unbearable, I almost couldn’t leave. She is my best friend, my partner in crime.
Fast forward a few hours. There I am in the Minneapolis airport, RUNNING AS IF LIFE DEPENDED ON IT (for those who know me personally, I’m sure you're shocked) because they were calling a flight for Amsterdam. As I make it to my gate, huffing and puffing, I realize that it was not my flight. All that cardio for nothing. The flight to Amsterdam was miserable, it was loud, uncomfortable, and I got maybe two hours of sleep on that Eight hour flight. Landing in Amsterdam was a relief…for about ten minutes. Then it was on to customs and immigration, sheer hell. Onto another flight to Copenhagen. After landing, I collected my bags and went through the doors. The very first thing I saw was a big banner saying “Welcome Baehlee!”
Here's a picture of the group that traveled together, in the Copenhagen airport.
I was so relieved. On the car ride to my new home, I immediately began to like my host family. They were perfect. After seeing all of the house, I loved it. It is the kind of house I would like to own someday. My host family is eccentric to say the least, reminding me so much of my family back home. What I love the most about them, is that they are not perfect. They make mistakes and it's ok when somebody screws up. Whether it's eating a food that is meant for a dessert topping, or messing up when speaking the language, mistakes are what exchange is all about.
I have lived in the same small town my entire life. I have gone to school with the same couple hundred students since kindergarten. On the night before my first day of school, I could not sleep. My anxiety over being the new kid was sitting on my chest like a rock. I was afraid to be the new kid, on top of that, I can't speak the language. When morning finally came, I picked out a killer outfit and my host mom drove me to school. Walking in the doors, I was simultaneously mesmerized and terrified. Everywhere I looked was well groomed, nicely dressed, teenagers. My host mom and I waited for a teacher to come and bring me to class. I was so scared, I could barely say hello. They brought me into the classroom and I met my class. Instantly there was a girl who helped me out. She too had been an exchange student, so she knew how I felt. On that first day I didn't do much, just watched and listened. Even without speaking the language I could tell who were the class clowns, socialites, braniacs, and teachers pet.
Adjusting to everything in Denmark has been pretty easy, except for the language and the public transportation.
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