La Première Semaine: Partie 1

by theboneyqueenofnowhere

Looking back on my first week… nothing much stands out except the incredibly strong sense of discomfort.

All the time, I would be nervous, anxious, intense. Even in my handwritten diary I wrote: “Afraid of the sound of approaching footsteps”, which was true. You can hear the heavy footfalls of my host family as they wander the house, so I know when they are coming to whichever room I was in. This isn’t to say I was afraid of them, I was just so beyond my comfort zone here. Everything was a challenge.

This is why my bedroom was such a lifesaver. I loved it. It was a little segment of my new reality which allowed me to step away from everything that I found so overwhelming – just for a moment. Sometimes when I closed the door, I would let out a little sigh of relief – I was one day closer to cultural comfort.

Because I knew that would happen eventually. I knew that I would find a day where I could call this place something of a home. I knew that all I had to do was watch the others, and do what they do, and wait. I didn’t know how long it would take, but I thought I could make the time pass quickly. And it did go quickly – the  plan was to evade boredom at all costs. Over the next five months, life here would just get easier and easier. That was fact.

“A man is not made for defeat. He can be destroyed, but he cannot be defeated.” -Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea