The Honeymoon Phase

I'm quite proud of myself. I thought it would be really difficult to have to talk to people and make friends again, but I didn't realize how naturally the process would occur. Everyone here seems to share the same lust for travel and exploration, and so far, the honeymoon phase has been great.

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The vast majority of the day was consumed by a city-wide scavenger hunt. We took the metro and walked like nobody's business. The whole experience was fun, but I think a part of me didn't feel like it was natural- but I understand why it was set up that way. Each location had a purpose and taught us a very specific lesson. The whole process was very deliberate, and for what it was supposed to achieve, it was successful. We bonded over the little things, the most poignant of which was a conversation on the Bart.

It all began when Grace was talking about a book she was reading on Justice in America. The book brought up the story of two people (one a cannibal and the other a person who wanted to be eaten); both people consented and whatever you think happened, happened. I know.

But I problem wasn't with the cannibalism part (mostly) but rather the fact that it was consensual in all regards. Does this make it murder? If it was not murder, then what is it? Should the cannibal be punished? Is the root problem the fact that one person is now dead, or the cannibalism itself? In fact, is there even a real crime?

This is what we strange college students talked about on the Bart, as people sitting nearby politely kept their bewildered chuckles to themselves.

Justice is a confusing concept. There is no perfect right or wrong- no pure black and white. And while that may be frustrating, I think it's for the better because no two people or situations are the same- so why should justice be the same? Like New Tech taught me: there is a distinct difference between sameness and equality.

As the day dragged on and my ankle continued to quietly scream in pain, I felt at home. I felt at ease. But I also felt a little apprehensive.

Yesterday, much of the staff was insistent that this was only the "honeymoon phase," and in saying so, unknowingly or knowingly planted seeds of worry into many students' minds. It feels like the feeling of waiting at the very top of a rollercoaster -the part where you can see the beautiful view but you can't quite make out what's coming next- and everyone is happy to be together and be exploring and be friends, but everyone is also terrified to exhale and break this new, delicate, beautiful thing.

When we got back to our rooms and my ankles stopped screaming, I started chatting with Johannes, a student from Sweden. We decided to play cards, not because we didn't have better things to do, but because we didn't want to do those better things.

Two people turned to three, then to five, and eventually we had seven people crowded together on the floor of Johannes' dorm room.

We played a bunch of different games, learned a bunch of different games, and then at some point just sat there talking. It was fun, and frankly, the better part of the day. There is something about planning your own bonding that just makes the experience more natural and more intentional. Though it wasn't really planned, the atmosphere was very clearly one of curiosity. Here were seven students, living far away from home, and talking to kids that literally came from across the world, playing Seven Levels of Pig. Who would have known that we would have had so much in common. And even if we didn't have anything in common, who would have known that those seven people would still care and want to be your friend regardless.

And I love it. But I think a part of me is cautious.

Because this is the honeymoon phase. I felt it three years ago during Fuze camp. I felt it every time I made a new friend ever. I just didn't have a name for it.

A part of me knows that this is the view, and that we are all just collectively holding our breath before we plummet through the fast exciting terrifying adventure that this is going to be. And there's going to be drama, and tears, and fights, and I can see it in the future and I can see it in the past, but you know what? If highschool has taught me anything, it is that you have to go up to go down. That the highs are worth the lows.

It has taught me that the view is worth the wait and worth the heartache.

M22