Last post in the Netherlands

As I'm sitting cross-legged in my Oma and Opa's backyard writing this, I am surrounded by my childhood. The crack in the hedge where me and my sister made a hide-out, imaging a fort in the bush behind it and designating branches as our beds. The patch of grass where the kiddie pool was always set up. The sound of pigeons cooing which I associate so much with this place and that time ...

... and I'm feeling like a big kid. A big kid who's grown into her big kid teeth and has her own big kid bank account and is suddenly realizing that mysterious 'adult' world is as ambiguous to any other world as much as it is already here.

Stressing about finances. Holding my passport and ticket and not the hem of my dad's shirt, following him blindly through the airport. Thinking about laundry detergent.

I'm starting to realize the responsibilities and challenges that come along with attending a UWC, and though they scare me, they are the reason I want to go.

Little things like meeting my Dutch co-year Daan, learning that Wada 3 will be home for the next two years and, one-by-one, my other co-years starting their journey towards India has reminded me I will only be anywhere else for another 30 hours. Another 30 hours of being a zero year.

See you on the other side!

I       cannot       wait