Stop and Smell the Roses

Emiko is an American student studying in Germany as part of the CBYX (Congress-Bundestag Youth Exchange) scholarship exchange program. 

Germany doesn’t give you time to tiptoe. One moment you’re fumbling with a ticket machine on the platform, the next you’re hurtling forward with the rhythm of the train, insisting that you keep up. 

Learning a language once felt to me like inching along a country road, but here, I’m on the fast track, racing forward at high speed. Conversations at home always include me; my host family has taken me in, happily untangling the words I don’t quite catch. 

As a result, my German, once tentative and hesitant, is blossoming under the constant immersion. It feels less like studying and more like living, as if the language itself has been waiting for me to catch up. Outside our home, I’ve adventured through lush forests on my bike, wandered through rose gardens in Bamberg, and had Álvaro Soler pop up right next to me at a music festival. I’m realizing that the fast track doesn’t just mean speed; it means being carried, propelled, and thrown forward into a version of myself I didn’t know existed until Germany handed me the ticket.

Tomorrow I start school, and I will walk among the crowd of students as they fill the hallways with life and sound, eager to find their classes as the Bavarian school year begins. I don’t know if I’ll stand out like a beacon, an obvious American in the halls, or if I’ll blend in with everyone else and only be known to those in my classes. There’s no way to be sure until the day arrives, so I’m simply preparing myself for the adventure of school by savoring these last calm moments before the whirlwind of assignments and activities floods my days. While I review my schedule and practice writing essays in German, I let my anticipation float away on the ever-present beams of sunlight streaming through my bedroom windows.

Sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor, surrounded by lush outdoor greenery and color, I feel ready to be productive, and I’m certain I’ll spend many hours here in the company of my host family, two dogs, and a plethora of plants. I’m incredibly grateful for all that Germany has given me, so much in such a short time. I’ve sat with my eyes glued to the sky, watching as the clouds paint the horizon every shade of rose gold and violet. I’ve taken long walks in the woods, pausing to feel how soft the moss is and to simply breathe the air. I’m learning to balance the motion and the stillness: sprinting through stations to catch the next train while pausing long enough to notice the bees in the roses or raindrops on the roof. 

Perhaps these things are what make the unknown less daunting: the knowledge that, even with this challenging climb, there’s a place I can return to, steady and alive, to catch my breath.