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. Then, when that was over, Jordan (from Washington) brought out his cards and we played ERS. In the end, there was no clear winner because we had to leave, but I had more cards than Shane (from Alaska). Then, we loaded our luggage in the bus and toured the monuments. I was very tired, and we were basically given free reign of whether or not to stay in the bus or look more closely at the monuments. As much as I wanted to stay in the bus and take a nap, I knew I wouldn’t see these monuments for a long time, so I dragged myself out of my seat. We visited the Korean War Memorial, which I don’t remember having visited before. It is very well designed, with soldiers marching at different locations, their eyes empty. There was a ring with the names of the soldiers who died in the war. There were so many names; it was unbelievable.

From there, we traveled to the Pentagon mall where Carrie gave us 20 dollars each for lunch. I scarfed down Panda Express with my friends while they debated over boba flavors. From there, we traveled to Dulles airport. My checked suitcase was exactly 50 pounds—just at the limit, right before I would need to pay a hefty fine for overweight luggage. Then, brought our carry-on luggage to the correct gate to board.

After playing a quick game of American or European (the Europeans tended to be dressed better and put together more, while the Americans were more likely to be dressed in pajamas and more comfortable clothing), we began to board. But while I was in line, I was told that I would need to check my suitcase—the one with my instrument in it—and I couldn’t take it out. I asked them if I could and they refused, and though I understand that they had a tight schedule to follow, they spoke to me very impatiently. I couldn’t help but cry a little, thinking about how my oboe would fare in the temperatures or the bumping. I finally settled in the seat, comforted by how the oboe was fixed in place by all the clothes in the bag, and the flight attendant walked around to give us headphones.

To my friends in the row next to us, Phoebe (from Alaska), Alex (from Pennsylvania), and Kenzie (from South Carolina), a the attendant spoke in German. I understood it perfectly—very few words were spoken. But then, she turned around, made eye contact with me, and switched to flawless English. I was too surprised to even say “danke schön.”

Kenzie, having seen the interaction, smiled and said in her classic Southern accent, “Baby, I think you just got profiled.” It was funnier than it was insulting. To be fair, I don’t really know much German!

Last modified on 2024-08-05