Friends, Neighbors, Countrymen,
First of all, I want all of you to know that I made it to Den Haag, safe and sound, and am, even now, sitting in my charming hotel room, which, btdubbs, has a mini fridge, a clothes steamer, and a BALCONY! Oh, and did I mention that it has breakfast included, is a 5 minute walk from class, and about a 5 minute walk from the North Sea. I mean, okay, it has a twin size bed, is the size of a shoe box, and is on the top floor of a 3 story walk-up. But it's a lovely walk-up. :) I did work in hotels, once upon a time, so I SHOULD know a thing or two about choosing a good one, but even so, I think I've hit the jackpot on this one. Oh, and the staff is delightful.
Anyway, now that I've gotten that out of the way, I can get down to what I really want to tell you about. I had a lot of time to think on the plane, since 8 1/2 hours is a long time to sit and do anything, and the guy in front of me had his seat leaned back pretty much the whole way, and the plane I was on didn't have the tilt-y screens, so I couldn't have watched a movie if I wanted to. Jerk. At any rate, since I couldn't really blog from the plane (sorry, this trip is costing WAY too much as it is, I can't afford to pay for airplane wifi, too, I have to draw the line, somewhere), I wrote some stuff down to share with you (and for myself, which I will not be sharing, haha), like, on paper. Shocking, I know, but I have to get used to it, since it sounds like taking my computer with me to the ICTY is a big no-no and that's where I will spending most of my time, here, in The Hague. Here it is:
23 May 2011, 5:30 or 6:30AM, local time, somewhere over the Atlantic, less than 1,000 miles from Amsterdam:
The sun is up and so am I, despite the fact that it's 12:30AM in Chicago. It would seem that pure exhilaration might just get me to my hotel in Den Haag, after all (it, and the kind help of some very generous strangers, did, in case you were wondering).
In the early pre-dawn as I was trying to sleep, I felt a wave of loneliness wash over me at the realization that pretty much everyone I will see in the next two 2 1/2 months are currently complete strangers to me. I am not proud of the fact that that was my reaction, and it felt kind of foreign to me (and yes, I appreciate the irony of that), because I've been feeling so much like my adventurous, dare I say fearless? 17-year-old self, lately. I guess I have settled down, some, in the past 10 years. Instead of the new friends I would have been DYING to meet, back then, I found myself longing for the comfort of familiar faces. What's really bizarre about that is that the friends I wanted to share that sunrise-at-35,000-feet moment with are people I have known less than a year, but law school makes fast friends of people you spend all of your time with, I guess (it's one of my favorite things about law school, in fact).
As I was saying, the sun is up, and I have some good, think-big music on the Pod and I'm FINALLY on my way to following my passion (or obsession, whatever) with international affairs/law, again. It feels like coming home and starting something complete new, all at the same time, which, in my opinion is the best feeling in the whole world. The very fact that I have trusted my instincts enough to take the risk of spending my summer doing something totally unconventional for a law student, in a place where I've never been, where I don't speak the language, with people I've never met feels REALLY good. Am I nervous about what's going to happen in the weeks and months ahead? Sure, a little. But that, in itself, is a bit of a thrill.
I think as much as anything, I really needed to prove to myself that I still have what it takes to pursue that which makes me deliriously happy, that which gives me drive and purpose and fulfillment, professionally and personally, no matter what the odds.
The only way I can think of to describe the feeling I am currently experiencing in a way I think other (read: non-nerdy) people might understand is that it's kind of like not having been able to wear your favorite pair of jeans (because let's be honest, jeans are pretty damn unforgiving), because you put on a few pounds to get you through the those cold, Chicago winter months, and then losing it and having them fit like a custom-made glove, once more. I would tell you that I'll try not to stretch the analogy too far, but I'm going to fail miserably, so just bear with me for a hot second. I feel like right now, I'm at the point where I'm trying the theoretical jeans on in front of my mirror, at home, and desperately hoping that they do, actually, look as good as I think they do and I'm not entirely kidding myself. To take the clothing metaphor once step further, I expect I'll be a little self-conscious about putting my international-affairs-scholar hat back on, particularly with a bunch of strangers (like there's any other way to do it?), tomorrow morning at orientation, but hopefully it will sit pretty naturally soon enough, and I'll be completely back in my element.
Anyway, talk about your major overshare, huh? I also want to tell you about my first impressions of The Netherlands and the charming and delightful Dutch people, but that's going to have to wait, because it's already 1:20PM (or 13:20, as I'm going to need to get used to thinking of it) and I still need to shower, find some real food (not to worry, though, for those of you who know my study habits, I brought a large baggie of cheezits with me and some peanut butter m&m's, so I won't starve), and do the reading for class tomorrow. And so it begins...
Lots of Love!
Emily
that sense of loneliness is interesting. it's not something that i would have thought you'd have a problem with, but 2 1/2 months is a long time.
ReplyDeletethe only thing that i can think of in recent times that's felt like that was when i hopped aboard a sailboat with 8 strangers to make our way 250 down the coast. that was a little different as we were all essentially entrusting our lives to each other... but yea, that was just about three days. 2 1/2 months is a long time.