De temps en temps, Life likes to kick you in the ass hard. Yesterday was a—how to say it nicely—en helt jævla dag: a hellish blend of bad rapport, lack of sleep, and hjemlengsel. And as much as I try to make the best of everything, there are just those days where nothing goes. Men derfra finnes det ingen annen vei enn oppover, og idag gikk det bedre.

So I should probably share a bit about our current situation. The twenty of us Region 2 AFSers are currently at Holtenkilen Folkehøgskole for our avskjedsleir, a short gathering before we disband and fly back to our respective countries.

There is a dock that is a couple of minutes’ walking distance from the school. Balázs—who I was fortunate enough to room with—and I have been swimming there every day. It’s a very special thing to be out there, your head rested on the water, looking upside-down at the blue and peach horizon and the boats sprinkled along the shore. It makes me wish I had an underwater housing for my camera…or a Ziploc bag.
We went swimming today together with Doug, Phil, Anıl, and Kevin during the onset of a coming thunderstorm. Have you ever seen lightning while swimming in the ocean? Thrilling, awe-inspiring, and probably not the smartest thing to do. And when we got out we were treated to a scene reminiscent of Laura Pausini’s “Primavera Anticipada”: a display of yellowed leaves drifting off with the wind.

These precious final moments tick by:

All of Balázs’ silly shenanigans. I will come to miss him dearly. This guy is one in a million. It doesn’t matter how I’m feeling, he always manages to cheer me up. And I can tell him anything and everything with no drama or hang-ups.

Attempting an amateur photo shoot with Yanzi: jumping off the bench, somersaults across the meadow, swinging by the seaside. We laughed until our sides hurt and it was wonderful.

An ephemeral moment with Diego, enjoying “Is It True?” in silence.

Comforting Elaine, mind reeling back to all our shared moments in Horten: days together with Gayoung of Korean movies and beaches and homemade cakes.

Singing to the passing cars on E-18 and sleeping outside on a bench with a pillow and blanket, an empty vast sky above decorated with one lonely star.

Pappa saying “Gutten min.”

And looking at that, I can see that things change, and things also change back—for good or for worse. Nothing is stagnant—relationships and alliances the least of all, as I have learned. And the repercussions don’t slip by unnoticed.

The storm has not yet gone over the horizon.

I feel so out of touch with people. Honestly, bonding is a concept that has eluded me for years. Growing up, I always secretly wondered if I was genuinely socially retarded. (In fact, I still do sometimes, but only to humor myself now.)

See, I didn’t really have friends in elementary school. I moved to the United States when I was 6 years old. The only English word I knew then was “dog.” (I learned “cat” a couple of months later, I think.) And I couldn’t even pronounce it right. And it’s pretty hard to get friends at that age if you can’t even keep somebody’s attention.

I suppose it was quite hard on my mom too, she didn’t have any friends either. In fact, I have no idea what she preoccupied herself with in those days before she had a job and I was at school. We learned to lean on each other.

Anyway, a lot of unpleasant things happened after I moved to the US, and while I don’t blame those reasons for everything that is wrong with my life, they affected me very negatively–inverted my personality, if you will. I became very shy, very cautious, and very self-conscious as I grew up.

Our family didn’t have any play-dates, and during recess I would busy myself at the tetherball pole. I would always buy my lunch and sit with the other kids, but only to sit with them. I was the wallflower…that wore immigrant clothes. (“Why wouldn’t you want to wear these clothes? They’re top quality, and cost so much in China! The American kids at school will never get the chance to wear something like this!”) And at home, of course, there was nobody else around–Mom had enrolled herself in beauty school. I was alone every day; I learned to entertain myself.

I think that fostered a lot of my traits. I learned to like being alone, and to this day I still do–being around people for an extended period of time still tires me out. By myself, I could be myself. I could sing as loud as I wanted, I could cry at cheesy lines in movies, I could walk around and not worry about how big the slits of my eyes are right then and there, and I could dream. (And dream did I ever! I was the hopeless romantic. Too much time alone and your mind starts creating hallucinations on its own.) I learned to be individual, and to like what I like and not be influenced by what other people think I should like. (My favorite music artist in junior high? Tori Amos.) But I also learned to appreciate friendship and togetherness because I so rarely felt it. I loved watching Friends because in a really twisted and pathetic way, I didn’t have any and they relieved me of my loneliness. And I still like romantic comedies the best–but for other reasons now.

There’s lots of bad things that came with the solitude: I was very out of touch with my contemporaries–and walking around with dyed bangs and a tweed jacket sure didn’t alleviate me from my condition–which brings me to my current déjà vu. I’ve always found it so difficult to really get to know a person. In fact, I downright dread it when people ask me, “So, what do you like to do?” Well, I like singing, learning languages, trying new foods and drinks, and having the occasional frolick with men twice my age. What about you? Sports, chicks, video-games, cars? Cool!

I’m going to do a little thought-trainhopping now by asking this: Have you ever wondered what exactly keeps people together? I’m sure you’re friends with your friends for different reasons: similar interests, similar experiences, or maybe just because you live close to each other. It’s kind of scary to think about how fragile a relationship can be. Sometimes, I feel like it’s not enough.

Well, if you read this far, congratulations. I don’t think I had a point in writing this post other than to just get some personal history out. I don’t remember when it became so much harder to express myself. Blogging much easier back in junior high. I was angsty then. Now I’m just humdrummy and–well, as of right now–in dire lack of sleep.