Hello again,
It seems we've been seeing a lot of each other, this blog and me. Anyway, I can't say either way if this reaction is unique to me, or if all of the hopeful exchangers feel it. That rush of sadness and nostalgia for an experience we have yet to live. I feel it in the pit of my stomach when I follow a link from the AFS study abroad blog list and I end up in a long forgotten, dusty memoir of an exchange long ended. I fear that in a blink of an eye, I too will be past all of the things I long for in this moment. How does it feel to live a dream? Is it magical? Does the ending leave you wanting more than you did before?
The way those blogs remind me of the passage of time, and my immediate instinct to exit it as quickly as possible for fear it might suck me into the past with a girl living her last week in Switzerland or a boy who never posted again after receiving his visa for Spain, it leaves me sad. It leaves me unbearably broken. Because they don't share the excitement I live in any longer. They have moved on. Each and every time it surprises me again. That someone could have been where I am in this second, and three years later not appreciate it. They are like abandoned buildings, empty train stations, crumpled love letters floating down the gutter. Their time is gone.
And then I find one that is still updated, where the returnee takes time to answer the hopefuls' questions. It gives me hope. Maybe I too can hold onto my passion and use it to support others in their journey, when the time comes. Just please, never let there be a day when I have lost my eagerness. Just some quick thoughts. Let me know your reaction when you stumble across a forgotten blog.
Best,
Savannah
(This was typed well before my previous post. Just found it buried in the graveyard of my drafts and thought to resurrect it.)
Friday, February 14, 2014
Hello Person Who is Here Maybe Hoping to Learn a Bit More About This Process or Just Here to be Lovingly Nosy,
It's been a busy week. I have made some big decisions and then finalized them with a very time consuming application which is only the first of many. I have applied for a fall semester 2014 program to France departing in August. If I had thought anything before now was stressful I was wrong. So very, very wrong. Everything before now has been Impossible Dreams and Big Expectations and Excitement. You believe you are going to go, and of course you are! Why wouldn't they want you? So what if you've only taken one year of French! You're incredible!
Except, following this false confidence is the realization that you are among possibly hundreds of other students and bright minds with the same hope. You may very well not be accepted. And that's alright, too. This program isn't made for everyone and if you aren't accepted it's probably for the best. Those evaluating my application will form an opinion on whether or not I am capable of transplanting myself into another culture and family, and there is nothing I can do to shift that first impression from the second I send my application out into the world. So no matter what happens from here on out, I am going to work as hard as I can towards my goal. However, if it doesn't work out, I will survive. I will go on to college, I will live in my own home when my little sister takes her first steps, I will ride an entirely different wave of difficulties than I would in France. I am prepared for both.
This mind set in no way makes me doubtful of my own capability. I believe I am able to have this experience and make the best of it. I want this opportunity with everything I am. I just also know that I will survive this with only minor bone-crushing, heart-breaking disappointment.
Anyway, for hopefuls, the (first) application isn't too rough. I completed it in its entirety in one week and was able to obtain all of my recommendations in a timely manner. The checklists are overwhelming at first, but with a systematic approach to completion, you can do it.
Best,
Savannah
P.S. If you are also another person looking to go abroad let me recommend something: Do Not Under Any Circumstance Wait To Mail Your Application Until The Very Last Day Possible. Trust me. If you do, you will probably end up chasing the mail truck and surprise, surprise they will not stop for you. So you'll end up having to borrow your mom's car and drive to the post office across town at the VERY MAXIMUM legal speed because it is 4:56 and BY GOD YOU ARE GOING TO GET IT INTO THE MAIL BY 5PM TODAY IF IT IS THE VERY LAST THING YOU DO ON THIS EARTH.
It's been a busy week. I have made some big decisions and then finalized them with a very time consuming application which is only the first of many. I have applied for a fall semester 2014 program to France departing in August. If I had thought anything before now was stressful I was wrong. So very, very wrong. Everything before now has been Impossible Dreams and Big Expectations and Excitement. You believe you are going to go, and of course you are! Why wouldn't they want you? So what if you've only taken one year of French! You're incredible!
Except, following this false confidence is the realization that you are among possibly hundreds of other students and bright minds with the same hope. You may very well not be accepted. And that's alright, too. This program isn't made for everyone and if you aren't accepted it's probably for the best. Those evaluating my application will form an opinion on whether or not I am capable of transplanting myself into another culture and family, and there is nothing I can do to shift that first impression from the second I send my application out into the world. So no matter what happens from here on out, I am going to work as hard as I can towards my goal. However, if it doesn't work out, I will survive. I will go on to college, I will live in my own home when my little sister takes her first steps, I will ride an entirely different wave of difficulties than I would in France. I am prepared for both.
This mind set in no way makes me doubtful of my own capability. I believe I am able to have this experience and make the best of it. I want this opportunity with everything I am. I just also know that I will survive this with only minor bone-crushing, heart-breaking disappointment.
Anyway, for hopefuls, the (first) application isn't too rough. I completed it in its entirety in one week and was able to obtain all of my recommendations in a timely manner. The checklists are overwhelming at first, but with a systematic approach to completion, you can do it.
Best,
Savannah
P.S. If you are also another person looking to go abroad let me recommend something: Do Not Under Any Circumstance Wait To Mail Your Application Until The Very Last Day Possible. Trust me. If you do, you will probably end up chasing the mail truck and surprise, surprise they will not stop for you. So you'll end up having to borrow your mom's car and drive to the post office across town at the VERY MAXIMUM legal speed because it is 4:56 and BY GOD YOU ARE GOING TO GET IT INTO THE MAIL BY 5PM TODAY IF IT IS THE VERY LAST THING YOU DO ON THIS EARTH.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
The Life vs The Adventure (A play-by-play?)
Hey you,
Do you know what I should do? Is a month on the shore of the Cote d'Azur comparable to six in the countryside? Is a shared dorm room as comfortable as a home? Once again I am faced with unexpected, blindsiding questions when my mom suddenly suggests a summer program. I am shocked, but I'm not disappointed. I'm not entirely sure why.. Maybe the fear I've been feeling about the exchange was more intense than I had previously allowed myself to believe. She won't pressure me into the sumer program, but I have to admit there are some pros to consider.
The pressures of college acceptance have been weighing me down recently. The summer program may well solve some of my worries by allowing me more time to devote to my applications. However, I'm home schooled so I don't have to worry about credits and the like. So I'd really been looking forward to getting back to a public school, even if it be one entirely foreign to those I have known. Three to eight weeks is hardly enough time to learn how to say hello in another language, let alone become fluent. Honestly, the pros and cons make a list that stretches farther than my eyes can see (Not saying much by my optometrist's standards). The only major concern I will voice right now, is the cost. Is it feasible to spend the same amount of money on an adventure barely spanning a summer or on the opportunity to build a life within a host community lasting five times longer. I will have far fewer chances to travel if I choose a year long program with a different foreign exchange program that is half the price of AFS, yet AFS has an abundance of excursions and weekend trips planned for their summer programs (Along with some culinary classes, which yes, my cooking skills sorely need).
These are all entirely valid concerns and as I had never ever considered a summer program before, they are a bit unsettling. The doubts I have due to my mom's simple suggestion have left me reeling. I am adaptable and prepared for either choice, yet they are so extremely different. It seems the closer I come to deadlines, the farther I go from answers. Anyway, I need to do some more research. I hope your concerns are fewer than mine.
Best,
Savannah
Do you know what I should do? Is a month on the shore of the Cote d'Azur comparable to six in the countryside? Is a shared dorm room as comfortable as a home? Once again I am faced with unexpected, blindsiding questions when my mom suddenly suggests a summer program. I am shocked, but I'm not disappointed. I'm not entirely sure why.. Maybe the fear I've been feeling about the exchange was more intense than I had previously allowed myself to believe. She won't pressure me into the sumer program, but I have to admit there are some pros to consider.
The pressures of college acceptance have been weighing me down recently. The summer program may well solve some of my worries by allowing me more time to devote to my applications. However, I'm home schooled so I don't have to worry about credits and the like. So I'd really been looking forward to getting back to a public school, even if it be one entirely foreign to those I have known. Three to eight weeks is hardly enough time to learn how to say hello in another language, let alone become fluent. Honestly, the pros and cons make a list that stretches farther than my eyes can see (Not saying much by my optometrist's standards). The only major concern I will voice right now, is the cost. Is it feasible to spend the same amount of money on an adventure barely spanning a summer or on the opportunity to build a life within a host community lasting five times longer. I will have far fewer chances to travel if I choose a year long program with a different foreign exchange program that is half the price of AFS, yet AFS has an abundance of excursions and weekend trips planned for their summer programs (Along with some culinary classes, which yes, my cooking skills sorely need).
These are all entirely valid concerns and as I had never ever considered a summer program before, they are a bit unsettling. The doubts I have due to my mom's simple suggestion have left me reeling. I am adaptable and prepared for either choice, yet they are so extremely different. It seems the closer I come to deadlines, the farther I go from answers. Anyway, I need to do some more research. I hope your concerns are fewer than mine.
Best,
Savannah
Monday, February 3, 2014
Where Oh Where Will My Little Feet Lead Me(sidenote; my feet are quite large actually.)
Hello you,
This is a very difficult and exciting time, which is a bit of an odd combination. My journey continues as I plan for the exchange approaching faster than I could ever have expected. With this adventure ahead, I face a time where I must make some huge decisions. I have never posted on this blog before out of fear, yet as I type these words I feel lighter. Sharing is a coping mechanism I turn to in times of GREAT need and I guess this fits the bill. See, if you aren't a foreign exchange student or another student going through the application process to become one, then you might not understand the tough choices coming up. This is the make-it or break-it time. I have to choose my "when, where, who, why" and that's a pretty scary notion when the last five years have been mere foreshadowings of my answers.
See in March 2013, I visited this country called France. Maybe you've heard of it? Yeah that one. I'd just turned sixteen and it had been My Dream to go on exchange since I was twelve and it seemed at the time it wouldn't work out due to costs and finding a host family and blah blah blah. So I "settled" (yeah, no, there was no settling involved, this was an incredible trip I will remember for the rest of my days and I am infinitely grateful to Aunt Rosie and Uncle Danny.) for a nine day trip across the Atlantic to visit my lovely Aunt and Uncle who lived in Versailles. My parents and I split the airplane ticket cost and then I was off. I landed in Paris before morning, and Aunt Rosie and I hit the ground running. I strolled through an echoing Notre Dame without another soul present. Nothing can compare, I promise you that. And the rest of my time is a blur. A magical, beautiful blur. But that blur ended in slugging my suitcase into the back of my mom's car in the California heat and heading home. Home is such a funny word and it confuses my heart. Images flash through my mind of my hometown in North Carolina, of an elementary school in Virginia, of a cabin on a cruise ship to Bermuda, of a walking path in California, and finally a desk. My desk in my room in my house, surrounded by my immediate family in a town I've lived in barely a year. Yet somehow, the gardens of Versailles and the metro line speeding underneath Paris felt as familiar as every one of my "homes." I thought to myself on the day before I left, There is no possible way that I am leaving this place, nothing, no one can make me leave. And even as I sit here at my desk back in California, I know in my heart, that I haven't. I haven't left that time, that place, that untouchable feeling of being completely submerged in the unknown.
My difficult decision is whether or not France is the place I want to spend the first semester of my senior year. Will France feel the same as it did then? Or should I strike out for another country that shares my native language? Can Great Britain feel as remarkably foreign and familiar as France? I am not sure. I am not sure at all. I'm drowning in doubts, I'm buoyant with excitement, I'm not sure what I am at all. All I know is, I am ready to find out. I have a very short amount of time to make up my mind, and I'll let you know how it goes.
All the love my heart can spare,
Savannah
This is a very difficult and exciting time, which is a bit of an odd combination. My journey continues as I plan for the exchange approaching faster than I could ever have expected. With this adventure ahead, I face a time where I must make some huge decisions. I have never posted on this blog before out of fear, yet as I type these words I feel lighter. Sharing is a coping mechanism I turn to in times of GREAT need and I guess this fits the bill. See, if you aren't a foreign exchange student or another student going through the application process to become one, then you might not understand the tough choices coming up. This is the make-it or break-it time. I have to choose my "when, where, who, why" and that's a pretty scary notion when the last five years have been mere foreshadowings of my answers.
See in March 2013, I visited this country called France. Maybe you've heard of it? Yeah that one. I'd just turned sixteen and it had been My Dream to go on exchange since I was twelve and it seemed at the time it wouldn't work out due to costs and finding a host family and blah blah blah. So I "settled" (yeah, no, there was no settling involved, this was an incredible trip I will remember for the rest of my days and I am infinitely grateful to Aunt Rosie and Uncle Danny.) for a nine day trip across the Atlantic to visit my lovely Aunt and Uncle who lived in Versailles. My parents and I split the airplane ticket cost and then I was off. I landed in Paris before morning, and Aunt Rosie and I hit the ground running. I strolled through an echoing Notre Dame without another soul present. Nothing can compare, I promise you that. And the rest of my time is a blur. A magical, beautiful blur. But that blur ended in slugging my suitcase into the back of my mom's car in the California heat and heading home. Home is such a funny word and it confuses my heart. Images flash through my mind of my hometown in North Carolina, of an elementary school in Virginia, of a cabin on a cruise ship to Bermuda, of a walking path in California, and finally a desk. My desk in my room in my house, surrounded by my immediate family in a town I've lived in barely a year. Yet somehow, the gardens of Versailles and the metro line speeding underneath Paris felt as familiar as every one of my "homes." I thought to myself on the day before I left, There is no possible way that I am leaving this place, nothing, no one can make me leave. And even as I sit here at my desk back in California, I know in my heart, that I haven't. I haven't left that time, that place, that untouchable feeling of being completely submerged in the unknown.
My difficult decision is whether or not France is the place I want to spend the first semester of my senior year. Will France feel the same as it did then? Or should I strike out for another country that shares my native language? Can Great Britain feel as remarkably foreign and familiar as France? I am not sure. I am not sure at all. I'm drowning in doubts, I'm buoyant with excitement, I'm not sure what I am at all. All I know is, I am ready to find out. I have a very short amount of time to make up my mind, and I'll let you know how it goes.
All the love my heart can spare,
Savannah
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