As I sit here, about to sleep outside the Stresa train station in northern Italy, the phrase ‘one day, one room’ has never been so applicable. The term was coined by the producers of the TV show House; the meaning behind it is essentially that the story of our lives can be represented as a series of rooms. Each room builds on the previous ones you’ve been in but ultimately the only one you can affect is the one you’re in currently. You’re with who you’re with, doing whatever you’re doing right now so you might as well make the most of it.

This past Sunday, I ran my first half-marathon ever! Undertaking this race was about as random to me as it probably is to you and your understanding of the ‘typical study abroad experience’ because it probably doesn’t include running a 21-kilometer race I signed up for the race without giving it much thought, but knowing that I’d always wanted to run one and figuring why not start in Nice, France?!

In Beijing, things are starting to become “normal,” or more routine for me. I really enjoy being familiar with my surroundings and sticking to a schedule. After Chinese class in the morning, I almost always head to the store that’s really close to school either by myself or with a couple of classmates. I can find everything in that store- eventually. Once I spent 30 minutes looking for Band-Aids. Just in case anyone wants to know, they are in the beauty section!

Soccer has been a central part of my life for as long as I can remember.  Outside of school, soccer took up a majority of my time.  I spent countless weekends traveling to tournaments in cities like Atlanta, Savannah and Nashville.  While the game is growing in popularity back home, its fervor in the States does not compare to that in Europe.  I made a personal goal to go to as many matches as possible while studying in Paris, and I have been fortunate enough to attend three games this semester.

The other day, I walked out of the front door of my homestay — just like I do every day — and a man who was pouring something down the drain outside my alleyway stopped dead in his tracks, stared at me, and yelled, “Welcome to Morocco!” 

“I’ve been here for two months,” I wish I had said to him.