There are good and bad things about being in a different country, or even Europe. I can country hop whenever I want, and I can be independent on my own. I can make my own decisions, and focus on my life over here and not on all the troubles of home. I can make my own opinions on life, and decide when I’m going to bed. I can choose my friends here, and they will know me for who I am at this very moment and not have any view of prior judgment from the past. It is a glorious life to be in Germany on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, but still sometimes I feel distraught and held back from reality.
I have to grow up, be my own mom. I have to make drastic and tough decisions on my own without the council of a parent. And my friends aren’t the same as they always have been, and they don’t know or understand me the way the ones at home do. Two months can happen, or even one month can pass and drastic things can change. My best friend could get engaged in a month, or the United States could be threatened by a terrorist attack. It sometimes feels as if I’m living in my own little DTS bubble, but for the most part I feel like I lived in my American tent my whole life.
It seems as if people are afraid to utter the word “injustice” or “poverty. Its as if it is a taboo word, not to be mentioned. But we have lecture after lecture about the tragedies in the world. It’s in our face every day, and we can’t possibly ignore it. I now feel like the one with open eyes, open eyes aware to the unthinkable. Yes, I may not be apart of the social network of the States, but ready to embrace the dark so that I can illuminate the sun. The Son.
