I might be putting the cart before
the horse here, but I’m not going to do a summary of my study abroad
experience. At least not until I readjust to being home a little bit. But
people keep asking me what its like being home, so I figured I’d describe it
while it’s still.. you know, weird.
First, Colorado is beautiful… in
the mountains. Where I am fortunately enough to (kind of) live. Don’t get me
wrong, the foothills where my folks live is pretty when everything isn’t yellow
and dead. And it’s so open! Try to imagine the contrast of going from a densely
packed and colorful urban environment where you couldn’t throw a rock without
hitting another human being, to a wide open mostly yellow landscape where the
only other people around are your family members and neighbors, whom you can
easily avoid. Then, apartments in Prague are about the size of my living room,
and the sheer size of my house is kind of overwhelming. So much so, actually,
that once I got back I kind of hid in my room. I wonder if Prague turned me
agoraphobic, because seriously, the intense amount of space is freaking me out. And other things in the
house, which is really the only place I’ve been so far, are kind of messing
with me, too. For instance, I can’t just smack the light switch, I have to
actively switch it. There’s too much water in toilets, and the handles are on
the actual toilet instead of the wall behind it.
The next big thing that’s messing
with me is how expensive the food is, and how flippantly my family will just order it. Tonight for dinner we got
Noodles, and it was because cooking was inconvenient. We filled out an order
online, everyone made a thousand customizations to their food (no mushrooms,
extra spicy, etc), then my mom drove 10 minutes there and back to get it with
my grandpa. The closest to that I got in Prague was walking a block down the
street, picking up a big bowl of pho and going back. I can’t really imagine
what going to the grocery store is going to be like.
I sound like I’m complaining (and I
kind of am), but I will admit there are things I missed. My dogs, for one.
Also, the fat one recently was diagnosed with a thyroid problem and put on
pills (something I called over the summer, thank you very much) so she’s now
more cuddly and interested in what I’m doing. Attentive service from waiters I
missed, because they have to kiss ass for your tip or they don’t eat. Part of
that is also massive drinks and free refills (the altitude is dehydrating me
something fierce). And as much as I bitch, I missed my family. In three months
my sister had to have grown three inches, my brother finally has a license and
a car, my dad is sporting a pedo-stache that makes him look like he offers
candy to kids on their way home from school, and my mom painted the house
banana yellow. But nothing’s changed. My brother still curls his hands up
against his chest when he’s annoyed by something we’re doing. My sister still
bends over backwards for attention. And the only conversation I have with my
father is affectionate antagonism (see: pedo-stache). Although he did ask this
morning when I was in the basement doodling how I was adjusting, which was
nice. Of course, my mom is still my mom, equal parts caregiver and smartass.
She simultaneous made me tea and told me to grow a set, then gave me a sleeping
pill and told me to shut my damn brain off and sleep.
I’d still rather be in Prague. But
if I can’t be there, it’s good to be home.