“Aliya…you’re homesick”

I am not homesick. I just miss seeing my mom everyday and my best friend being a 15 minute drive away. I just miss having the windows rolled down, obscenely screaming song lyrics after a 2 AM Taco Bell run. I’m not homesick…I just miss everything about being home.

Fine. I’m homesick.

I feel stupid just saying that. Adults don’t get homesick. They’re adaptable. Flexible. Adults don’t miss the best summer they’ve ever had or talking with their mom for hours at the kitchen table every night.

Since arriving to Dublin 3 weeks ago—phew, times flies—I think so much has already happened, it feels like I’ve been here for an eternity. I’ve learned enough to get around comfortably, learned how to manage my time—more or less, I won’t tell—and found a sense of home. Two weeks of classes have ended at this point and there was a trip to Northern Ireland, so I imagined this would be a good time to write about things that have been disappointing, unexpected, and surprising. 

The disappointing part.

All summer long, my family wondered if it would happen while I was here. It would be so interesting, so curious to see what a country does when their monarch dies. 

It was our third day in London. The BBC had reported early in the day that her family was coming to meet her in Scotland. All day, between orientation meetings and during trips on the tube, we theorized what would happen. It would be crazy, we said. The ruling monarch hasn’t died since the 50’s, so wouldn’t it be insane if we were here when it happened again?

Bikes on bikes on bikes. An organized mountain range of bicycles, from the shiny and new to the chained and rusted, piled beside the train station. Rental bikes with blue front wheels and slightly worn bikes of the locals lined obediently in front of the shops. Little blue bicycle is led away from its post by its little owner. A woman pedals effortlessly to work, carrying two children and dog along in a big black bucket attached to the front of her heavy duty bicycle.

Pro-tip: one of the best ways to make friends abroad is to make pancakes for them.

One of the most daunting things about going abroad, especially if you are the only person from your university going on a program, is making friends. But I am here to assure you that you will find your place! 

Rustic. 

Trite, on-the-nose. Perhaps already the first word one conjures when imagining Tuscany. 

But this word suits Siena too well for me to begin with any other. 

At twenty years old, I would say that I have already lived through some incredibly significant and historical times. Very early into the pandemic, I knew I would have the privilege of repeating my experiences to future generations.

Recently, I was placed right into the middle of history very early into my stay in the United Kingdom. As me and some friends were leaving to go out, one of them asked me, “Did you hear the Queen died?” I had not, and to my sadness I looked this up and saw more and more articles announcing the news.

I have been in Berlin for almost two whole weeks now, and I think the city is unhappy about that. 

Week one in Ireland.