I’ve begun to come home early from school to cook with Regina and Udo. They are very good chefs in the same way my mother is a good chef. Recipes are merely a guideline. All three halve sugar, double garlic, and seemingly haphazardly manipulate the recipe, yet the final product is near perfection. I hope to gain that skill someday. When I told Udo that, he told me that it wasn’t a skill—just overconfidence.

Food has never tasted so good in my life, even the simple things. Today, while I was cutting kohlrabi to make Kohlrabi Schnitzel, I cut a piece too thin. Udo, my host father, took that piece out and cut it into three smaller pieces, and while we waited for the salt water to boil, we ate the cabbage like chips. Perhaps the kohlrabi was unusually fresh, or maybe I was just hungry, but in that moment, it felt as though it was the best thing I had ever tasted.

Public transportation, the obvious choice. But there’s a stark difference. For one, the seats and the floors are incredibly clean. Every passenger silently stares out of the window, not looking away even despite a sound. I got on the bus and watched one woman accidentally drop her bag on a second woman’s toes. Even when the first woman vehemently apologized with a quick “Entschuldigung!” the second woman said nothing, not even looking away from the window.

Today was the first day of going to AiB, the place where I will be having language school. I woke up at 6:45, downloaded an e-Sim with some data to get me by, and ate breakfast (two Toast Brot with Marmelade, which ended up not being enough actually!). While I was drinking my tea, Udo came downstairs and I asked him about the train schedule just to review it. I then asked him about the water and he told me just to get it from the tap (I don’t remember the word for tap water).

I woke up at around 9:30 am to the window opening. It made a loud sound, and it was clearly automatic. When I checked the time, I was shocked. I hadn’t realized that I had slept for so long! I was late for breakfast, which is at 9am. Normally in the States, that wouldn’t matter, but in Germany, mealtimes are incredibly important. Grab-and-go breakfasts simply don’t exist. Mealtimes are a time for slow conversation and spending time with others.

Again, I’m writing this in retrospect because I want a record. When the plane landed, it was roughly 7:50 am in Germany (and 1:50 am in Maryland). I was exhausted because I struggled to sleep on the plane. After landing, we all went to baggage claim to pick up our luggage. Immediately, I grabbed my small suitcase to check my oboe, and it was absolutely pristine. Not a crack nor a bent.

I’m writing this all in retrospect, just so that I have a record for the future. On Friday, August 2, we woke up early for breakfast and final packing. I ate so many pastries from the dining hall in Georgetown before leaving to my room to make sure everything was packed. From there, we brought all our luggage into the front lounge of Copley Hall and Carrie gave us some final reminders for our year in Germany.

Day 2 of orientation today. We woke up early, dressed in professional clothing, ate breakfast, and traveled to the State Department. We were all exhausted, but we dragged ourselves through the two layers of security. While waiting in the line, Julien (our ODI representative, original from Cologne, Germany) chatted with us about his experience. He can speak German, French, and English, in that order of proficiency, which is very impressive because his English is very good.

I had my first day of orientation today. Overall, the program so far feels very haphazard. We had a packed orientation schedule that consistently went over time. We were given information incredibly late. There was an incredible amount of repetition in the information we were hearing (though I suppose I understand this). I have hopes for tomorrow, however, because we are visiting the Department of State. Today, we sat in a circle and introduced ourselves.

Though the Olympics ceremony may be overkill and a waste of resources, I think it’s worthwhile to appreciate the worldwide culture of the games. On screen, every competing country gets its share of the limelight. The United States and France and Australia arrive in their massive boats, crowded with athletes, but they get the same few seconds as smaller countries that are less recognized. I am not from Belize, Liechtenstein, Nauru, or Somalia (the countries sending the fewest number of athletes, just one each), but I still felt an overwhelming sense of pride watching them excitedly wave their flags.