Retracing the last couple steps

I'm not sure if my rebound blog will really take off. However, with that said, I have decided that I owe at least one more post on my exchange blog, though it is no longer coming from Denmark, about what it is like to be back in the U.S.. 

I have been back from Denmark for about a week and a half now, I returned home on July 2nd. 

My time in Denmark went so absolutely incredibly fast. While I was there, I viewed my time as infinite, and it felt more or less like I had the rest of my life there, even though it was really implemented in my head that I had only a year. Of course with each month that passed I would say "has it already been two months," or "has it already been six months?" However, come to think of it, after I said "already" I never said "only." I never said "now I only have eight months left, or now I only have half a year left, and so on. So while it was true that I was always aware of my fleeting time, it never felt like I was limited in my time. 

And so on July 2nd, when I left my host family's house at 2:15 in the morning, it didn't feel real. I had almost nothing to react to, because it felt so unreal I was already leaving Denmark. More or less that I was leaving home. 

I had two hours to stand in Billund airport, and it was spent talking, checking my very underweight (??) bags, and then saying goodbyes up until about 40 minutes before my flight took off. 

Once we said all our goodbyes, my best exchange friend Claire, my host sister Malou, and my Rotary counselor stood outside security while I went through, and continually waved goodbye. I went up the stairs after I was finished in security and saw them, through the glass wall separating us, still waving at me, so I waved back. I waved until they left, and I had about 25 minutes to find my gate. I walked over to where my gate was, and boarded my flight about 20 minutes later. Once I was in the air I didn't let myself look away until I could no longer see Denmark, beautiful in all its flat land glory. 

Eventually, Denmark gave way to water, and water shortly gave way to the Netherlands. Wishful thinking had me hoping that the Netherlands, as flat as Denmark, was really just sjællend that we were flying over, even though that would have been in the complete opposite direction anyway. 

I landed in Amsterdam, went through passport control after many unnecessary line changes, and eventually found my gate. I listened to a bit of music, and snap chatted a couple people. Still however, sitting in Amsterdam Schipol airport, the thought that I had at the point, already left Denmark felt even more unnatural. It felt unnatural that my time was up, and that I had left my host country, in a sort of sense that I had to question myself "what am I doing and where am I traveling to?" Even though I was perfectly aware of what I was doing, and where I was going, and why. I was aware I was traveling to Seattle, and that I was going home. 

And then I boarded my flight to London, and tried to fall asleep since I hadn't slept for 24 hours, and that is essentially when it hit me that I was going home, and I had left Denmark. I thought about the last time I saw my host sister that morning. She was looking at me and waving through the revolving doors of Billund airport. Until she looked forward again, and went through the door. That is what I last saw of everyone who drove me to the airport. I thought about the message I later saw that she sent to me about a half an hour after my flight took off, that said "I can't believe you're not in Denmark anymore." Which, to be honest, really put it into perspective. It was as though I came, "paid my dues," had my experience, and now eleven months later my time was up. It made it feel complete, yet still all a bit too fast. I was Rotary's newest product, fresh out of exchange, and one more through the cycle. My time was up, my year was over, and soon it's onto the next. In 11 months the next group of seemingly fresh exchange students will be thinking the same thing. 

Simply put, it was a matter of "how could I not be in Denmark anymore, already, when I literally just got here. How is it even possible that my time is up."

When I landed in London, I didn't have time to think about it anymore. I had no more time to pick apart the phenomenon that was my overthinking, as I had to go through customs all over again before boarding my longest flight. The inside and out search the man gave my backpack certainly gave me a little extra to think about. I know you're doing your job, but let's be honest, sir. What are the odds I'll be coming from Denmark of all places as well, with explosives shoved in my bag. 

And then, two hours later, I was sitting in my window seat, watching the ground grow smaller and smaller, and I knew it was now only a matter of hours until I was finally home. I fell asleep after that for quite a long time, and woke up long enough to shove some food and water down my throat, seeing as how I was still too tired to eat. I went back to sleep after that. My flight continued like that for the near 10 hours I was on board, until the last 45 minutes where I was looking out the window, viewing the abundance of mountains I was amongst after 11 months of grassland and cornfields. (I know I tease but I do love it). 

And then I landed in Seattle, and went through customs, answering all of their obvious questions. 

1.) Who brings meat items on an airplane. Who ever made that regulation a necessity. 

I then picked up my bag after being sassed at by another customs regulator, and was welcomed with a large sign, a box of cheezits and goldfish (crackers), and a hug by both parents. 

From there on, life continued as normal. That is honestly what it feels like to be home now, as though I never left for Denmark in the first place. I have an abundance of stories and experiences that I like to tell about, and think about, and talk about. While I do that however, I like to move forward with my life here, and make jokes with Makayla (of whom I have previously mentioned), and sometimes just go out and wander on my own. 

Denmark is still a home to me, and always will be. I'm sure I'll continue to think of "my" bike, parked and locked at my host family's home, and of all the endless hills and cornfields I cursed at while I huffed and puffed up all of them. (Except that one side hill I never told my host dad about ;-) ) I will always have fond memories of my brøggeriet dates with Claire, while sharing Nachos med kylling and an ice blended med Daim eller chokolade. (Nachos with chicken and an ice blended coffee with chocolate or daim).

The great conversations I had in my second language will always be a fond part of my experience in Denmark. My stomach will go on sincerely missing frikadeller and hakabøf, or generally meat and potatoes. Come holiday season, it will greatly miss risalamande and pebernøder. God I loved pebernøder. I think we can all agree I loved the food very much ;-) 

If I sat here and told about everything I'd miss about my year there, or just simply about everything that is special to me, I'd eventually have dissected the country itself. I can't do that, and I don't want to. I'm happy to be home because I can continue to remember my year in snippets and pieces. 

As long as there is an ever existent and open sky, there will be airplanes that fly it, and it's only a matter of time until I'm on the next one, going home. 

However until then, it's really what I have stored and meant to be a part of my memories, which is almost as good as the real deal. 

On a bit of a lighter note, I'll just say a simple vi ses, and perhaps the next time I write I'll be back in the place that inspired my ramblings throughout the year in the first place. 

In the meantime, thanks for reading, og jeg glæder mig allerede til når tiden har kommet til, at jeg kan endelig kommer hjem. 

Ses om lidt, Danmark!