 Well, well, well
…..
Let me order my thoughts.
I really don’t know what to say here, what not means
that I don’t have anything to say, oh no, I have so a lot to say, that I
don’t know what of it I should tell you.
I began this letter three times and I deleted it three
times. I was never really satisfied with the stuff I wrote (I’m really a
perfectionist). Nothing of it really expressed what I feel and felt since
the eight weeks (I know I’m late) I’m here.
Let me try it one more time.
I came to Jacksonville at August 1st, but I
think my baggage was not really ready yet, so it stayed a little bit
longer in Switzerland. The travel was pretty agreeable, no trouble with
the airport, the planes or anything else.
It seemed to be so short in a way. At all I had a 22
hour travel. But when I left my home, I knew that a new part of my life
would begin and 22 hours were just not enough to really realize that, I
had so a lot to think about, to look forward to and to look backward to
some stuff (but when I’m honest I have to say, that I think even a week
would not have been long enough).
I arrived at 10.30 p.m. here and I was like paralyzed
because everything was going so fast. I met my host family, Al, Ken and all the other guys. I
couldn’t even say any more what we did at the airport. I was so tired,
but not because I couldn’t sleep the night before, OH NO, I was so tired
but I promised my mother that my room would be cleaned up when I leave,
and there was more to do than I thought. Finally I went to bed at 5:15 a.m.
and I had to get up at 5:30. So when I arrived I was up since 40 hours and
the only thing I wanted to do, was searching a bed and sleep.
When I woke up the next morning I looked through the
window and it was raining, yes RAINING! I thought: Hello! That that’s
definitely not, what I signed in for; I want some hot temperatures and
sunshine everyday. But the next day the sun shined and everything was ok.
School began at August 7th, so I had the
first week vacation, and I was pretty happy for that, because I could just
chill out a little bit, get acquainted with my host family and assimilate
the climate.
Time was running and my first school day was
unavoidable. I got my schedule not until the first school day, so I had no
chance to prepare myself, neither for the school nor for the two culture
shocks, which hit me that day.
The first culture shock was the getting up that morning.
My alarm clock war ringing at 6.00 a.m. that morning, I felt like I would
be in a nightmare and thought that I’m not going to survive that longer
than a week. I could sleep in Switzerland to 7 a.m. and I hour of sleep in
the morning is an age! But with the time I got in use with it.
The second culture shock was not at all the bigger
number of people at my school (2500 students), I mean it was really,
really, REALLY bigger than at my school in Switzerland (250 students), but
I could handle that. The thing that really hit me totally unprepared was
all the strange rules at school.
The first thing somebody said to me was: “Tuck your
shirt in!” I turned around and saw an attendant, who looked at me like a
hungry bloodhound.
I could find my first classroom easily, with the help of
my map. After sitting five minutes in my Speech class, what turned later
to my favorite class, somebody called my name through a loudspeaker. My
teacher explained me that I have to get my ID. So I went to an odyssey of
eighty minutes and six different stations, because everybody told me, that
the people at the other office would have my ID.
I finally got it and got instructed that I have to wear
it everyday, every lesson, and every minute.
School here is really totally different, only four
lessons a day (I had eight a day in Switzerland), every lessons 90 minutes
(45 in Switzerland), only 30 minutes lunchtime (90 in Switzerland), and
school ending on 2:15 (4:05 in Switzerland). But except some little problems (my American History
teacher still think I’m from Sweden), school went really good; I
understood the teachers and the students pretty good and I never really
had problems to follow the lessons.
I spent my second weekend at Camp Montgomery, with all
the other exchange students and the Rotary guys. The first day was really
fun, and it even turned better, when I heard that we could go
wakeboarding, because I LOVE wakeboarding. I still have some lively
memories of that ride. I had the possibility to make some experiences with
the wakeboard in Switzerland, but it was always on a lift. Here we used a
boat, and a boat produces waves, and I had no idea how to handle the
waves. I tried it with a little 180, but I miscalculated the wave and had
a pretty hard bail.
I got some really bad headache that night and I went to
bed early. When I woke up two days later, my pillow was full of
blood and after a visit by the doctor, I got the devastating message that
I can’t go into the water for two months (!!!!). For the time being, my
dreams about surfing were destroyed.
One week later, I went to my first football game (thanks
Ken), and damn I love it! I had the possibility to sit in the first row
and I had the luck to see the Jaguars winning (what is really not
happening
every day). Since then I’m sitting almost every Sunday afternoon in
front of the TV, with my host brother, who is explaining me what is going
on, watching football games.
Finally I can say that at first glance the two cultures
(Swiss and American), do not seem to be so different. But when one is
living in this other culture, one sees all the little differences, which
seem to be so unimportant, but at the end, all the little differences
between the cultures, is exactly that, all the little adorable things,
which you can only see, when you are living in this culture, which are
making out a culture. It is all the experiences, good and bad, which make
you able to say that you know
the culture, and the people which are living in it.
There is still so much to say, but I think that journal
is already too long and I’m probably going to have more possibilities to
tell you about me, and my life here.
I hope it was not too boring ; )
Steven Wellauer
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Stefan Wellauer
