The Stand 360
Connect
  • Home
  • About Us
  • Farmers Markets
  • DC
  • Mica's Tracks
  • Contact

The Honeymoon Period

9/29/2014

3 Comments

 
My dad told me as soon as I got here, it doesn't matter where you go, just who you go with.
Well I came to Australia on my own, so that leaves a lot of space for fellow travellers. Maybe I just got lucky in that I met the best possible ones.
Now let me, tell you hands down, homesickness is a sickness. An illness. Symptoms include: nausea, fatigue, melancholy, and a constant sense of dread. The cure: a good group of people.
So in the insanity of last week, it doesn't matter to me what I did, or the places I saw, just the people I was with. Honestly its what make the pictures and the memories that much more meaningful.

Unknowingly, I witnessed my first companions in the baggage claim. A tall young looking guy and a small girl with a southern accent were collecting their very much oversized bags. Both blonde, one wearing a camo hat. Both undoubtedly screaming American. I didn't actually say a word to them until the first day. And only later did I find out that they were hands down the best dancers in the group, especially after the boy had a couple of drinks. And it never took too long for those drinks to take effect. The image of Ben brynieing while screaming that Hooten the beer, sounded exactly like the American restaurant Hooters, can never actually be as hysterical on video as it was in real life. Especially since he was the only American boy. Never been more proud of my home country honestly.

I met Aliesha at the line for the shuttle. She kind of uncomfortably copied the position I was sitting in, at a awkward distance from me. Instantly meaning please please please talk to me.  I recognised the signs and struck up a conversation, secretly having been dying for someone to talk as well. Despite being five years older then me, we shared a lot in common. She was half Jamaican, wanted to stay in Australia for three months and wanted to work in the hospitality business. Now as it always happens when you meet someone with vaguely similar interests to you and who doesn't seem like a complete psychopath, we committed ourselves to living and traveling with each other throughout our entire stay. And yet we still hadn't left the airport.  Like most of my other plans this trip, that fell through. But Aleisha never the less has remained a close friend, and a mother hen. She roomed with me the first few days, stayed up with me late at night when I couldn't sleep, got her boyfriend to comfort me via skype, and has always kept an eye out for me. She is most definitely the best non-psychopath, half Jamaican with vaguely similar interests to me that I have ever met. Without her those first few days, I could have jumped out a window or worse gotten lost to the boy who slept beneath my bed in the hostel. 

Now come the Brits. The only people who I had contacted before arriving to Australia. I didn't remember any of the boys names, solely the girls. To be honest I completely forgot about them until I ran into Sophie in the bathroom. While other people helped me make strides towards making me feel at home, these people made leaps. The first time my stomach un-tightened was when I sat down beside Emily for the first time and she threw her arm around me, despite being quite a lot smaller, and promised to take care of me. The first time I laughed, like really laughed, was later that night when me, Emily, Tom and Rob played a game of pool, where despite being the most sober, I forgot which team I was on and smashed one of the bar's lightbulbs. The first time I felt completely safe and at home was when I was lying on Emily's bed, half asleep, curled up on one end while Rob blasted very girly music and sang along across from us. Me and Harriet bonded over Harry Potter. After one long car ride, me and Sophie pretty much knew we were going to be friends till the end. Tom of course was the most rude yet funniest. And so with that we created a kind of haphazard family, with their mascot, me, their crazy token American. Don't worry I haven't forgotten about Joe and Lauren and Beth and Zac, and the two Irish lads, you guys are really really amazing as well, and I'll see you all soon. 

Lastly there is Val. Now Val is Dutch and my straight up sister. I love everything about her from her sense of style to her sense of humour. In half broken English, that at times needed a lot of repeating, we became very close. The first time I told Val I was homesick and hadn't eaten in two days, she tried to ram her sandwich down my throat.  She also leaves December 15th, but unlike me is extremely decisive so barely after two days if being in Sydney booked her ticket to Cairns with two random German boys she had only just met. Needless to say she is awesome. And I wanted to chase after her I really did. I still do. I miss her so much. Maybe I am just scared or maybe it just doesn't make that much sense. But Val is someone who I am going to constantly be chasing afterwards, whether its to Cairns or to Amsterdam.

This is only a snippet of the group of people I adopted in this past week. There is also Serafine (who I am having lunch with tomorrow), Canadian Valerie, Emelie, Danny, Heather (my bigger sister, and the person whose advice I love the most), Marie, Jaimie, the crazy dutch guy, the entire Ultimate Oz Crew and the people I am staying with. I had the most incredible time with them, telling stories, camping, sand boarding, snorkelling, surfing, dancing, singing....etc.

Then the week is over. Emily and Rob are in a camper van going up the East Coast. Harriet its in Melbourne. Aleisha is somewhere lost in Sydney. Val, Emilie, Lauren, Beth,  the two German boys and soon Serafine are in Cairns. Sophie, Joe, Nick and the two Irish lads are in Darling Harbour. Danny and Heather are at base camp. Zac is on a farm. Tom is soon gonna be in Vietnam.

And Me?

Right now I am house sitting for a friend in Bronte. Having no idea what I am doing tomorrow, much less next week.  So here I am all alone in this house, watching movies, playing on the computer, eating free food, doing free laundry and I am homesick. Not for Washington DC as much as for a week ago. I wish we could all be together again, and everything could be figured out.

But thats not how it works.

I called Sophie telling her I was nervous about what was going to be happen to me. I had turned down an au pair job this morning- the potential job I turned down the apartment she is living in for. And am about to turn down a charity fundraising job. She gave me the number of some random ad she saw for an apartment on the street, told me to come over tomorrow after seeing it, and made me laugh.
Emily called me immediately after I texted her. She was driving while Rob was holding the phone. It felt as if I was being reassured by my mom and dad. I am Alright, Treacle. 
If Val were here she would probably sympathise with exactly how I was feeling in slow English and then go get McDonalds with me.
Tom would make me laugh and then buy me a beer or at least make me buy him one.
Danny would tell me to grow up and be independent in some unintelligible Scottish accent.
Heather would hug me and give me tons of great advice.


And so yes I am alone again. The week is over. But they are still here. I still have a haphazard family that I am incredibly thankful for, and that I love.
3 Comments

The Last Goodbye. 

9/18/2014

4 Comments

 
I don't really know when to start. Is today my second day or my fourth? Technically I have been traveling since Monday, September 15th, however the program I am on only started yesterday. 
On Monday September 15th, my dad woke me up at 6:30. I had barely been able to sleep and had a cramp in my neck. We shuffled around the house a mixture of urgency and sadness. My brother awkwardly hugged me a good twenty minutes before I left right above the stairs. And then proceeded to spend the rest of the time asking my parents why he had to walk the dog at this ungodly hour, and why both of them HAD to drop me off at the airport. A classic display of Wyatt's emotional insensitivity and blissful ignorance of emotionally charged moments. I remember the last thing I said to Buffalo, as she sat by the door, begging to go for a walk. "Don't look at me like that, Wyatt's the one who has to take care of you."  Now it seems possibly the most depressing statement that escaped my lips that morning. We climbed into two different cars. I drove with my Dad. We generally talked about logistics, and how beautiful DC looked in the morning. No mention of the foreboding tearing apart of my life  that was right around the corner. We checked in at AA and sat at the Starbucks. My favorite Starbucks in the entire DC area, simply because its been my sanctuary before long journeys so many times. I begged them to continue waiting until the last possible moment. My last moments with my parents were light hearted and absolutely hysterical. Those last few minutes summarize my view on my parents. They were loving, caring, clearly worried but didn't want me to know it and cracked jokes the entire time. If I could sit at the Starbucks table with them for the rest of my life, just talking, I would be just fine. We said goodbye and as I walked though security, I silently began to sob. Embarrassed I buried my head into sleeve, constantly waving back at them. Refusing to let go. I waited at the gate, missing my best friends with ferocious fire that tore through my chest. I got on the plane at a window seat. And my mom called. Now due to the architecture of National Airport, if you stand outside of security you can look down through the windows at all the planes lined up. My parents stood by the window waving the entire time. I quickly located them, directed by my mother of the phone. It was incredibly heart-wrenching. They were simply waving at a window unable to make out my face. I was waving back at them knowing they couldn't see me but praying that they could feel it. And So thats how I took of for my journey, looking insane to my fellow passengers, waving outside an airplane window at the two most important people in my life, feeling utterly and completely loved. Probably a metaphor for my whole life or something. 
4 Comments

    Author

    Archives

    February 2015
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

About Us
Farmers Markets
Get Involved
Washington DC
Mica's Gap Year Blog
Contact Us