Home

It's strange how at home I feel in Romania. While in Sweden and in France, I always felt distinctly foreign.

At my school in Sweden, I was the only brunette in a sea of blonds. In France, I didn't have the elegance that French girls possess.

Here, I feel at home. I don't look Romanian, yet I don't look that foreign. Everyone tells me I look Russian and many people here have a distinctly Slavic appearance.

I can walk down the street and no one gives me a second glance. Well, they did this morning but that's probably because I'm wearing the first long skirt they've ever seen on a girl under the age of 25.

I feel comfortable here. The fears that I had have long gone. Even the sight of two street kids with glue breaking into a building didn't phase me.

I'm shocked that I don't have the crushing depression that I had in the other countries where I've lived. During an intercultural seminar earlier this year, we learned that adjusting comes through several phases:

a) everything is great, everything is new, life is good
b) you get frustrated by everything
c) you can't communicate, you wish everything was like at home
d) you meet people, start to learn the language, start appreciating the culture for what it is
e) you develop a daily routine
f) you feel comfortable in the society

Or something like that.

I arrived in Sweden in August. By October, I hated it. I hated my family, my school and the society (living in a tiny racist village in the middle of nowhere doesn't help much either). It took me until I moved to Helsingborg to start loving Sweden for what it is.

France was no different. Even though I was there with some university students, I still felt isolated and alone. I had no appetite and I dreaded the school year. Luckily, I made tonnes of friends in my residence and by the end of the year, I didn't want to leave.

Here, everything is natural. Maybe it's because I'm living on my own and I can control what goes on around me, but I haven't been unhappy since I got here (knock on wood). They say you can accept things more easily when you're younger, and I know I wouldn't put up with what I went through in Sweden now. However, I'm not phased by the language barriers, by the crazy drivers or the wild dogs. It's still an adventure here.

Or maybe I'm just growing up.