Mid-Semester Crisis

I’ve reached an awkward point in my life, and it has nothing to do with puberty.  Although the changes are just as life-changing and real, this awkward stage falls more along the lines of… a mid-life crisis.  Let me rephrase that—a mid-semester-of-an-exchange-student-life crisis.  Sticking to puberty would probably have been a lot less complicated.

You see, similar to the way most people in life are eventually faced with a mid-life crisis, exchange students are faced with mid semester crises.  It begins with the realization that time is short.  In fact, not only is he short, but he’s also quite quick, kind of like Dash in Mr. Incredible—short, fast, and flying by before you even get the chance to blink an eye. 

Then comes the scramble.  The tofu scramble—alongside a side of fresh fruit and orange juice for breakfast before you rush out the door to see, do, and experience everyone and everything you possibly can. 

Then comes the confusion—the identity crisis.  Those in their mid-lives probably question their purpose in life and whether or not they’ve fulfilled it.  Have I lead a meaningful life?  Am I happy with who I’ve become and the way things worked out?  Those facing a mid-semester crisis deal with questions similar not only in severity, but also in seriousness.  Have my experiences met my expectations?  Am I making the most of every moment?  And arguably the most important of the whole lot, who am I?  

I’ve spent what I’d consider a good amount of time in Aussieland, which is what makes this point in my life awkward.  Who am I? I haven’t spent enough time here to crave Vegemite on butter-slathered toast, but I ‘ve spent enough to know that although it takes a My 2 bus pass to get to Central Station, you can usually get away with a My 1 if you’re quite sly and sneaky about it.  Not enough time to replace my American “Hey, want to meet at McDonald’s in the afternoon for a cup of coffee” for the casual Australian “’ey mate, want to meet at Macka’s in the arvo for a cuppa”, but enough to know that a sausage roll done right is one slathered in ketchup.  Who am I?  I know, it’s a loaded question.

I’m in that awkward in between.  I’m no stranger, but I’m like so like totally not a local.  See?  I’ve still got the SoCal in me.  But I’ve been here long enough to make quite a few observations.  Like Californians love their avocados, coconut water, and breakfast burritos, Australians, or at least those residing in the Sydney surrounds, love their beaches, brunches, and markets.  

Sometimes, if you’re lucky enough in Cali, you’ll get a meal with all three lifestyle essentials.  Avocados in your breakfast burritos and an ice cold Zico on the side and you’re golden.  Likewise, in Sydney, some days if you’re lucky enough, you’ll get to experience all three: you’ll grab brunch at the market by the beach, then head to the beach and once again, you’re golden.

I guess I got lucky.  I guess I’m also golden.

Here is Manly Beach and the Manly Market in pictures.  I got too excited for brunch, so instead of my brunch sitting happily on this page in picture form, it’s sitting happily in my tummy.

In all that excitement, I’ve forgotten the final step of a mid-life, mid-semester, crisis—realization and acceptance.  In actuality, both are blessings in disguises.  They help you to realize and appreciate all the wonderful opportunities and experiences that have fluttered so kindly your way, and are reminders of the many more to fly on by.  So embrace them.  Embrace the beautiful moments.  Embrace the markets, the avocados, the Zico water, breakfast burritos, and beaches; but most importantly, embrace your so-called crisis.  In fact, have another one while you're at it.

Cheers,

Kimmy