alice's peephole

Who needs a significant other when you live in a dorm? A lot of people apparently. I hear them through my paper thin walls, but wait, that wasn’t the point. The great part about living in a dorm is that most often its that perfect sweet spot between being annoyed by the very breathing of other people and being lonely. The kitchen, underequipped though it is, is the proverbial water cooler, and there’s so many spontaneous jokes shared there while waiting around for the few lone working stoves to get free. Not to mention the chance to try authentic food from as far off places as you can imagine, from just about every continent. Why just the other day a guy from Georgia was boiling some eggs in a tin can and offered me one. You learn new styles of cooking from exotic lands – recently I saw my Korean friend cut his frozen pizza with a pair of scissors. He lost his knife a few months ago.   The shared loos are another place where one is exposed to various cultures. The long ...

The dream. Getting that sweet acceptance to the ONLY sports university in Europe. I tried to capture and preserve in my mind (read my camera) every pore on the face of my loved ones. I celebrated by eating a year’s share of oily, yummy, spicey food (the names of which it is too painful for me to pen here) and downing thums up and old monk at every given opportunity. I shopped and I packed. Ok my mom packed, but I helped! And most of all, I waited. For my visa to arrive. Leaving is overwhelming. But this post isn’t about stating the obvious. What surprised me in fact, was that I felt strangely numb. Except the flood of tears once I checked in, I didn’t quite know what I felt or have the words to express it. And it’s taken me some time to find them. I landed at Frankfurt, and I was cheerfully greeted by an empty hall and even emptier conveyer belt. I did however manage after an hour or so to locate a help desk, and thereafter my luggage – which they had helpfully transpor...