“This must be what time travel feels like” was my first thought when I stepped outside the airport in Dresden, Germany. The fall of 2015 was approaching, and I had arrived in Europe for my Master’s degree program. Far from home, in a country where I knew no one. And no one knew me. The two years there would change me forever and steer me off course into a new timeline.
As I stepped outside the airport dragging my two suitcases along, I was pretty amused. Because back home I had a small model airplane in my room (I still do) which I picked as a birthday present many years before. And, by a strange twist of fate, the final transit flight that brought me from Frankfurt to Dresden was on an airplane of the same model.
I asked someone for directions to the city, and as I waited for the bus, it dawned on me that I would be speaking in a different language for the two years I would stay there.
It felt strange. I am usually a quiet and reserved person. I would fall into the category of an introvert with little practice of speaking to people. I’d received my fair share of ‘why don’t you speak more?’ questions over the years. I didn’t mind the question since the question perplexed me as well. I had asked myself the same question and received no answer. I was probably giving myself the silent treatment too.
I have had enough time to reflect and know myself better now, but I was clueless back then, in a country where I knew no one. And no one knew me, not even me.
Edit (March 26): Maybe this belongs here:
-To be continued-