My past four months have been full of transitions, and it all started with the predictable U-Haul truck. It was the rainy Monday after my graduation from Kalamazoo College, and my dad and I drove across the state armed with Dairy Queen Blizzards and a truckload of hand-me-down furniture. I was to pass the summer with my parents before spending a month in Germany and then promptly beginning the Challenge Detroit fellowship program. I was ready to leave school, I was ready to have a breath of air before starting all these new adventures, and I was ready to dive into the working world. Or so I thought.
Summer came and went in a whisper. I went down south to Arkansas (more on that here: thisisthedeepend.com) and up north to Glen Arbor, but most of my time was spent apartment hunting and organizing passports for my big trip.
I have always found myself occupying bubbles. Grosse Pointe, my hometown, is often perceived in the region as an affluent, well-landscaped bubble. Kalamazoo College is its own bubble of liberalism, passion and quirkiness. Of all the bubbles, the CISV village has been the most compact and unpoppable bubble, and one which I will not do justice describing.
For the month of August, I had the privilege to be a leader for a children’s international summer village (CISV) in Ingleheim, Germany. Twelve countries were represented at the camp, each with four children (two boys and two girls, all eleven years old), and a leader. There were delegations from North America, Asia, and all corners of Europe. At this camp I learned how to say good morning and good night in nine languages, played soccer with eleven-year-olds who could kick my butt, tried (and failed) to eat chicken feet, took on the role as Prince Charming in a silent rendition of Cinderella, introduced eighty people to Coney dogs, and made promises to visit more countries than my bank account will allow. It was a challenge to adapt to such a rich and isolated culture, but once I bought into it, I was in it heart and soul.
It was hard to come back home, to understand every conversation happening around me and to eat anything besides potatoes, bread and Nutella. And starting the fellowship just two days after stepping off the plane, as well as moving into a new apartment, made it harder. I was used to wearing Chacos, being in constant motion and talking to eleven-year-olds – not wearing suede flats, sitting still for hours on end and networking with Detroit’s brightest minds.
As much as I wanted to return to the friends I made in Germany, even from the first day of Boot Camp there was no way I wanted to uproot myself from Challenge Detroit. The other fellows all have such unique stories and passions and I am so grateful to be a part of the program with each new Detroiter we meet and storefront we visit.
Even a month into the fellowship I am still transitioning from this summer. But then again, aren’t we always in transition? Transitioning into new knowledge, stronger relationships, new views of our environments. It can be subtle and small, but growth is constantly occurring, and while the big transitions can sometimes be intimidating, I would much rather have that than the sense of static. I’m looking forward to what other transitions may be in store for me here in Detroit.
One of the many games at the CISV camp.