I’ve been so tired since I’ve been here. In other breaking news, the sun is expected to rise in the east tomorrow. Obviously, I’m still jet-lagged. I woke up at something like 3:00 AM this morning RAVENOUS. Like, had to eat or I would not be able to get back to sleep. (I have no idea.) Anyway, I ate a frozen dinner (The flat I’m in for now doesn’t have a kitchen yet, which is a hilarious story of Russian subcontractors and kitchen remodelers, so all I have is a microwave and fading hope of a real kitchen. And dish soap in the bathroom.) that was every bit as delicious as the frozen dinners back home, with less certainty as to what I was actually eating. There was rice and sauce and some kind of meat. And then I went back to sleep. I would have taken a picture for you, but I was tired and it was rice and sauce. Mister Rogers says it’s important to use your imaginations, people.
So I was thinking today about WHY I was so dang tired all the time. Other than the fact that I have no idea what day or time or country in which I am located, I mean. And it finally dawned on me this morning…
I am no longer in The Great Republic.
In other breaking news, it’s important to drink plenty of water to stay hydrated.
But the realization was in that I have to think VERY HARD when I am out and about here–the alphabet, the words, I have to learn these things because this is my home for now. And if I don’t actively MAKE my brain think about it, my mind blanks when I am out. It kind of goes into this numb zone where I don’t really understand anything and I’m in my own world. [Insert funny and obvious comment about my usual state of consciousness here.] So in trying to start to understand, I have to keep my brain “on” all the time.
Bless the sweet waitress today at lunch who politely tolerated my attempts to order pho and juice in Russian before she quietly steered me-in perfect English. I got apple juice instead of orange juice. Which is fine because I actually ordered apple juice and have no memory of what I really intended to order. Darn faux amis.
Which brings up the other really fun part of language for me. My “foreign language set point”, the setting my brain goes to when subconsciously it recognizes that I’m not in my home tongue, is French. I have spoken so much French in the last four days (Four days? How long have I been here?) that I feel like I finally have earned that French minor I got in college. And nobody understands me in that language, here, either. ACES.
But Mama and Daddy? Finally getting some ROI on that undergrad investment!
More deep thoughts tomorrow.