Now that the move to Denmark is getting closer, my memories of my first experience there, are getting more vivid.
I was 20 when I stepped into the train for my first long, independent journey.
Even my dad teared up when I hugged my parents goodbye.
But I bravely ensured them everything was going to be fine.
The truth was, I absolutely had no clue of how to take care of myself.
I always lived in the comfort of my parents’ love and good care.
When my bike had to be fixed or I needed help with my home work, Captain Dad was there.
When I was hungry or needed freshly washed clothes, mum had already prepared it.
Still I complained, can you imagine ? 😉
I came to live in a sort of hostel where I did have my own room and bath room, but the kitchen was shared.
Sort of like a student dorm, but with adults and a cleaning lady.
For the first two weeks I hid in my room, lived of bread and cheese and washed my clothes the old fashion way with regular soap and boiled water.
Then on one fine Saturday, I decided to be brave: I was going to do the laundry.
I stared at the laundry machine for 5 minutes.
Then called my mum and got her voicemail.
Then I started crying.
I saw someone outside and out of desperation I asked him if he could help me.
He started grinning.
“Well, first you need detergent. You can come with me to the store, I need some groceries anyhow”, he winked.
I felt like the biggest loser on earth, but it seemed like this could lead to something positive. I mean, he was good looking.
As we started talking more, he asked me if I had any plans tonight.
“Probably solve some Sudoku puzzles “, I said. SERIOUSLY?!
He laughed again.
He told me about a Jazz music event in another city and I guess he asked me out.
I only had one date before, 2 years ago, and that was a huge disaster!
Something with a guy from school taking me out bowling and trying to kiss me afterwards. I pushed him away and he started crying.
You could say, the next day was very awkward.
But anyhow, I took the chance and said “yes” to the Jazz event.
“Perfect!”, he said, “Shall we meet at 6:30? I can make us some dinner”.
2 hours later I knocked on his door, feeling very nervous.
This time he was too. And all dressed up!
We said down around his kitchen table where he presented the dish he prepared: noodles with ketchup
Turned out, it was also his first time being independent 😉
Later that evening, we found out we had more things in common.
We shared our birth date, he was just one year older.
He told me he was from Germany, in the same city I used to live before.
We both became shy as we were sipping our coke.
Later that night, at 10, we arrived home.
He then told that he was going back for a couple of months to Germany, because school started again.
He was in Denmark for a short internship, but he would probably be back after school.
In that time there were no smart phones.
Skype never worked.
Texting was too expensive.
That was my first real heart break 😉
But hey, we did shake hands and said “It was nice to meet you”.
I am crying while laughing writing this 😉
How did your first real date go?
Anyone interested in the first time I decide to cook or the first time I got drunk?
I promise those stories are just as innocent as this one 😉