Jet Lagged and Back in Europe
Originally, I had my doubts about going all the way back to my small home town in Wisconsin for only a couple weeks over Christmas. I kept thinking of how many places I could visit in Europe for the same cost of a ticket to the States, and my grandparents’ home in seemingly-close-by Stockholm was calling my way. Really though, I have to admit that I was afraid being back in Spooner (yes, that is really the name of the town I come from) would make me just a little too comfortable, and that being home would make me remember all of the things I usually seem to have conveniently forgotten.
Since I was about fourteen years old, I have been convinced that one day I am going to meet the love of my life on the airplane. I was a little disappointed when I found my seat next to a solely-French-speaking woman (who did turn out to be nice… but still). After a cramped nine hour flight, we landed in Chicago. Of course the Chicago airport held a number of fresh bagel stands, newspaper headlines about the coming presidential elections, and a larger percentage of obese people. But the realization that I was back in the U.S. didn’t quite hit me until I was seated at my gate for the next flight. Everyone was talking to each other. The whole time. The old lady sitting next to me asked me immediately where I was from and where I was going and everyone around us joined in the conversation. This is what the Europeans call “exaggerated friendliness,” what the West and East Coasters call “Minnesota Nice,” and the open friendliness that I have known my whole life. Maybe it is exaggerated, or fake sometimes, but in that hour, and throughout my whole stay in Spooner it felt nothing but genuine.
Though the love of my life had failed to appear on the long flight, as soon as I sat down on my flight from Chicago to Minneapolis, I realized that this time I had quite the luck. Enter the handsome law student at Columbia University, soccer fanatic, ultimate frisbee player, and Occupy Movement activist. We had quite the interesting, sophisticated conversation (riddled with a few awkward moments, but not TOO many) in the 30 minutes that it took the plane to start moving and ascend. Then he promptly turned away and fell asleep. This obviously wasn’t ideal, but I had been starting to run out of intelligent things to say anyway and if we were going to be getting married anytime soon then we would have plenty of time to talk in the future. Unfortunately, Columbia-boy didn’t seem to share my vision of a future together as we departed with a formal “nice to meet you.” If only he would have been seated next to me on the longer flight…
Luckily, I forgot my heartbreak rather quickly as my family was waiting for me just outside of the gate. It was nice to be back in the car with all of them, where my dad immediately launched into long winded lectures full of ideas about my future, my brother made stupid comments, and my mom tried to keep both of them under control. And it was nice to drive past the “welcome to Spooner: the natural place” sign after two hours in the car. It was nice to have my dog greet me at the door, and sleep in a fully-heated house with a warm shower right across the hall. It was nice to wake up to fresh orange juice, good coffee, and Christmas presents under the tree. In one word, “nice” is what it was to be back in Spooner. I spent hours at a time at the local coffee shop catching up with friends and watching other familiar faces come in and out. I slept in, let my mom make food for me, watched one trashy television show after another, and still had time for exercise. There was no going out, no glamorous clothes, nowhere to go shopping, and no bands playing. But this is what it is nice about Spooner (for a little while at least); everything is so simple. In a way, I got comfortable just like I had feared, but it turned out not to be too traumatizing. It was still nice to come back to Maastricht and to feel like I actually have important things to do. And of course I’m looking forward to hearing the stories of everyone who did something more exciting than watch movies and dance around in the snow on New Year’s Eve.
Now if only the jet lag would go away…
Sofia Jarvis
My name is Sofia and I'm from a small town in Wisconsin, U.S.A. After spending a year in the Netherlands as an exchange student, I decided I couldn't stay away, and am now in the first year of my Bachelor's degree at the University College Maastricht. I love running, eating chocolate (especially here in Maastricht), traveling, reading, movie nights, and of course going out.