Light bulbs (Alternative Title: Win)

I undid the fail, guys.

I'm registered to row! But let me tell you, this experience blew open a whole new point of view for me. Talk about light bulbs.

I e-mailed asking for some specific directions since I got turned around with the others. The director responded giving me a tram line. I stepped off at the stop I needed and looked down. At my feet, sprayed in red paint, was the word Skoll and an arrow. I followed the signs and found a massive, multi-story boathouse.

AHHHHH

I was super early so I poked around the town and bought myself some stroopwaffels in celebration of my success. I will discuss the awesomeness of stroopwaffels at a later date.

When it was time, I headed over.

And then I learned what it was like. To walk into a place and feel like your own little island, surrounded by words you don't understand but need to hear. Forms you can't fill out correctly without flagging someone down for help over and over. Feeling like a burden when all you want is to just be one of the bunch. Yeah, most people speak a little english. But they're not speaking it to each other. My intro packet is in Dutch. All my e-mails are in Dutch. I'll run it through translators and get help when I can.

But sitting there, taking the good part of an hour to fill out a stupid registration form, made me feel ashamed. I know it was irrational, but for once I understood what millions of people deal with every day in the United States. People throw hissy fits that signs in our grocery store have spanish on them. I'm about to throw a fit that there aren't more.

I finally understand the hidden tensions we so often feel in cross cultural and lingual relations. Frustration seeps in so easily and its cause isn't the actions of other people. It's us. It's our fear of not being in control, and not being informed.

The funny thing is that I should have felt at home. I was surrounded by tall, blonde people. But I have never, ever, felt that out of place or that disconnected.

Light bulb.