New York City

Hey Friends,

So I’m not in Flensburg yet. Sorry, still 8 days to go and miles to go before I sleep. Instead I am here in the Baltimore International Airport on hour 6 of my layover (and by layover, I mean waiting for my stand-by flight that I’m only on because my original departure time of 7:25am was moved to 10:20, causing me to miss my connection in Baltimore from NYC to STL) with some time to kill. I already ate more than what should be legally allowed of Auntie Anne’s pretzels and figured that practicing my blogging skills would be a much better use of my time than another cinnamon swirl treat.   

Speaking of practice, I feel like my whole trip to New York City was a practice run of what I will be doing in Flensburg. Kinda. If you squint your eyes…

What I mean is when I was in New York…even though I don’t FEEL like a tourist, I pretty much was. I had to pretend I knew what I was doing on the subway, when in reality a lost puppy and I would have been kindred spirits. I kept my head down and walked fast (sign of a true New Yorker, right?) and hailed cabs like a champ, but all the while I was keeping my eyes and ears particularly open to all of the verrrrry diverse voices around me. I mean, I HAD to keep my eyes and ears open to see just what I needed to do to blend in, know where I was going and be considered anything BUT a tourist.

This blending required transformation on my part into a sponge—a sponge whose dried structure is based on the assumptions of a nice, sweet, unassuming Midwesterner, (whatever those assumptions and life experiences may be). Then, I had to absorb the surroundings and people of NYC and add that to my structure so that I could become alive with whatever I was soaking in. In the processes, I never really lose my structure or my way of viewing what I’m doing, but I become a vessel of NYC  and myself to wherever I go. I have to do that in Flensburg next year too. Wait, next year? I mean next week. Eeek.

Anyway, before I can go and absorb the culture of Flensburg to become a real-life Flensburgian, I feel like I need to state my assumptions. What am I basing my observations of their culture on?  Am I simply observing? Or am I at heart comparing things back to my only known structure… Probably, but I guess I won’t know until I get there. It also made me think: What is “my culture”? On what experiences and beliefs am I making my assumptions? I am looking forward to getting an even BETTER picture of American culture by being a part of another culture. It’ll be cool to say the least. I’ll keep you posted on my findings.  Obviously.

I have plenty more “bloggable thoughts” concerning culture, my “assumptions” and my goals, but I’ve gotta keep you all reading so consider this a cliff-hanger.  That, and I think my now 7.5 hour layover may be approaching an end. Pray for me…

My faith in things unseen and my belief that it will all work out, may seem like a strange cup of tea, but if it's alright with you then its alright by me,

Mere