Jennifer in Luxembourg

Everyone always wonders the differences and culture shock of moving to Europe. So here's a few things I learned on my recent move.  I moved into an apartment on a 2nd floor (but actually the 3rd, because the counting starts 0-1-2, not 1-2-3). If I'm feeling perky, I walk the two slippery spiral flights of stairs up. I do take the stairs down every morning.  There is a TINY elevator. Reportedly four humans can fit in there, but I'm very curious how large they should be. Two adults and you're up in each other's personal space. It is not uncommon to put your things in the elevator, walk up the stairs, and retrieve them upstairs.  My "cave" (cellar/garage/storage room) has a giant old fashioned key. This brings me surprising joy. Except when I can't find the light switch and the key gets stuck, and then I contemplate being stuck there forever... I was intrigued to see how the movers would handle the tiny elevator and stairs, but was surprised when they sim...

Yesterday someone told me how great my life is, and why doesn't everyone move here. My response was that I was showing them the good, because no one visiting wants to see the crap.  But this week has been hard. Like insanely hard. And I hate writing and sharing the crap, but I think I should.  I remember sitting on the floor of y apartment when I moved to Boston. Almost every night, I sat in silence in darkness, sobbing as my heart wretched in the clutching pain of loneliness. Deep guttural pain of hollowness as I felt the lowest of my life.  And so I haven't cried once in my housing here. It seems off limits. I'm not the heartbroken person I was in Boston. I'm an excited adventurer in Europe.  And so I do my crying in church. Multiple weeks now, the calming words of the worship songs have unleashed a torrent of public tears. Which has been healing and hard.  I moved this weekend. Nothing like I imagined it would look like. Yes, I don't take for granted the supp...

What a day. You know the song, only hate the road when you’re missing home… it lists so many things that talk about the ache after something wonderful happens.  And that is today. The past two days have been the happiest since I came to Luxembourg. Don’t get me wrong, life hasn’t been terrible, but it has been intense and heavy. And these last two days I’ve been with my family. The woman who came to look for houses with me in Norwood, the guy who hosted me in his house and who took me with his wife and friends to show me their favorite parts of Germany, one of my first students who met up with me in London to dance the night away, and a guy who’s become a sounding board in my life decisions and dilemmas.  There’s a weight I carry being alone. The weight of responsibilities like paying the bills and figuring out everything myself. But also a medical weight- what happens if my blood sugar plummets, or I break an ankle, or anything else and don’t have my phone in reach or my wits...

So, it's been a minute since I wrote… mostly since I was in the USA and then came back to hell week here in Lux.  In the USA I flew first to Washington D.C., to lead a class as my last commitment to my old role. Once I landed, I notified my students that I had a car and was happy to show anyone around. This resulted in me taking carloads of Asians around D.C. all weekend. Both mornings, we began with breakfast at a diner. Activities included a Trader Joe's run, Target, Best Buy, Marshalls, and mall shopping. Attractions included the National Mall, Lincoln Memorial in the rain, fun poses with the Washington Monument, Tatte and Starbucks coffee runs, and much more. It was incredible to see the nation's capital through the eyes of people in the USA for the very first time. They were so impressed by my knowledge of America, and it was very special to be able to share my country with them. I also believe in making my classrooms inviting spaces, so I filled mine with pipe cleaner...

I got off the plane in San Diego. 6 hours cramped into a seat wasn’t fun. I slept a bit, then watched a ton of Brooklyn 99, and finally- fresh air and palm trees. I got in the Uber with a driver more talkative than I wanted him to be after today, but he was friendly so I went along with his attempts at small talk. He had a nice selection of music playing, then suddenly I was surprised to hear the calm opening of Breakaway. Breakaway was my Boston move song. A close friend at the time sent it to me as my move to Boston song, and said it reminded him of me and to take courage in my move. For weeks, I’d sit on the floor of my tiny apartment, in downtown Norwood, isolated from any signs of life around, and blast the song on repeat through my tiny Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen. I’d sing the chorus as loud as I possibly could, and for as long as possible until I’d break into sobs. It was my mantra, my challenge to myself despite the incredibly hard season of life. I’ll do what it takes, I...

My Ohio roommate was in Italy for work, and graciously invited me to join her and travel Italy together. I flew in Bolonga, in northern Italy, for my first ever Italian adventure! I connected through Amsterdam and got my first taste of Italians on the flight to Bologna. They are not rule followers or expected to wait their turn or in line. I finally made it off the plane and found the Marconi Express from the airport to the central train station with surprising ease. Guglielmo Marconi, the father of wireless, was a childhood idol of mine and it was wonderful to see him memorialized in his hometown. If you ever want to experience Cedar Point for a fraction of the price, I can highly recommend the Marconi Express. Seven minutes and twelve euro later, we arrived at the central station with the noise of the Millennium Force and the twists and turns and shaking of the Top Thrill Dragster. The small individual pods added to the mesmerizing if not isolating experience and I was grateful for s...