diary: i wake up
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I wake up. It’s the kind of waking up that starts with the transition from sleeping to slumbering, then
slumbering to snoozing, and as I slowly get conscious of the world around me, I realize that I have all the
time in the world to make this process as long as I want. So I turn around, open up my eyes and look at the
pattern on the wall for a bit. It’s a repeating pattern of blue flowers over a yellow background. I see it
without thinking much, realizing I’m still halfway between sleep and awakening. It’s not often that this
balance is so stable, so I decide to enjoy every second of it. I don’t remember dreaming anything. When I
tract back the minutes I see only black, no exciting story or bizarre pictures. As I turn around once again I
realize how I’ve gotten used to this place. Less than two months ago I went to Vilnius, leaving behind
practically everything. Well, all immaterial things at least. I took my laptop with me, only to lose it in a trolley
during the first week of my studies. I got over it within a day. But even leaving behind my family was
surprisingly easy. The moment itself was difficult of course, and at the airport I felt like I didn’t want to go at
all. Even if it meant seeing my girlfriend again, and not just for one or two weeks like it had been before, but
for at least 6 months. That prospect was alluring, but walking away from my parents and my younger
brother was incredibly difficult. And now, lying in bed with my girlfriend next to me – I think she’s still
sleeping – I can’t say I ever felt like that again. Of course I miss them, as well as my family and my friends,
but I feel at home here, and that’s what matters.
It’s 10:30. My girlfriend just left to her university and I have to work on some things for my own studies. I
have about three or four hours until I have to go to my university and I want to use my time well. As soon as
I’m home alone I get this feeling of freedom, the feeling that I can do whatever I want. While this is
technically true, I shouldn’t give in to it. I have stuff to work on. Although, I’m not exactly sure what, and in
what order. And I see that there’s dishes in the sink, I should clean them too. But first I should allow myself a
little rest. Go to Youtube and see if there’s something new and interesting.
…
11:42. I should really get to work. See what I have to do and just start. I’ve been watching videos for over an
hour now, that’s typical. Oh yes, I have to write for Creative Writing. I want to write that auto-ethnography.
It seems challenging, but I think it’s what I find the most interesting. I’ve always liked noticing things and
making up ideas about the world around me. I should just start writing. I start writing about my girlfriend
and how our cultural differences affect us. It’s a topic I find truly interesting, but I can’t seem to structure it
right. After being stuck at two-thirds of the page for more than 15 minutes, I stop. I’ll finish it some other
day. Or not, maybe I made it too difficult for myself, maybe I should just drop it. I’m not sure what else I was
supposed to be working on, and I let myself get distracted once again. I’m annoyed that things are not going
the way I hoped. I don’t feel like trying to get anything done anymore, I’m just not capable of doing anything
meaningful today. I get a message from my girlfriend, asking me if I want to meet for a coffee. I reply:
It’s the first warm day in Vilnius. The sun is pleasantly burning and the air feels soft. Every change in season
brings a brief nostalgia for last year. Now that I walk around with an open jacket in the sun, I feel like I felt
last year in summer, or maybe I always feel the same way in summer. As if the cold weather had made me
forget what summer feels like. I’m still annoyed by my lack of productivity from this morning, but the
weather charges my annoyance into an energetic frustration, and I can’t help but to be slightly amused by
my own mood. I jump in the trolley and get on my way to my girlfriend and a much-wanted coffee.
I’m sitting in the back of the trolley on my way to the university. I’ve always liked sitting in the back. As I
realize this, I think of a very crude joke that makes me grin and that will never see the light of day. A few
stops before mine, a man in his fifties sits next to me. As he’s slightly bigger than his seat, he occupies part of
mine too. He doesn’t smell great, but in the segment of over-fifty men on trolleys in Lithuania, he’s probably
above-average. I suspect that he drinks. He might not be an alcoholic, but he simply doesn’t look cared-for
enough to be free from the stuff. One of the other men in the trolley starts talking to me in Lithuanian. He’s
a bit younger than the man sitting next to me, and his tone is loud but not unfriendly. I ask him if he speaks
English, and he starts over, asking me if I smoke. I say “no, sorry”. I assume he wanted to ask me if I have a
light or a cigarette. But he doesn’t seem to be disappointed. Instead he sits down next to the fifty-something
guy, and asks me where I’m from. “You’re from the Netherlands and you don’t smoke?” is the somewhat
mocking reply when I answer him. I’m pretty sure that people here smoke much, much more than in the
Netherlands, but I tactfully don’t speak my mind about this. It turns out that the two guys know each other,
and I get into a chat with both of them, although the other one doesn’t speak more than two words of
English. The younger guy tells me that he’s from Russia, that he’s worked in Belgium for two years and that
he lives in Vilnius for a year now. His English is broken but understandable. I wonder how he worked in
Belgium with that level of English. Maybe he speaks French? He goes on to tell me that he was exiled from
Russia for stealing, I don’t think of asking him what it is that he stole. He’s clearly down on his luck. He looks
about as well kept as the other guy. With a big smile on his face he says he’s in Vilnius to drink and fuck, and
even though saying that is the easiest way to make me judge you, my smile in response is not purely
politeness. He’s a friendly guy. Socially gauche, no doubt, and with a skewed view of morality perhaps, but it
seems like it comes from a good place. The guy next to me points to himself and says something that sounds
like “skinhead” – although he didn’t have the look, so up until now I’m not sure what he really said – and he
makes slow punching movements while he says something in Lithuanian. The younger man translates it: “he
hits well”. I smile and feign being impressed. Of course I couldn’t be less impressed by a guy that self-
proclaims that he punches well, but at this point the two are friendly enough to have won over my
sympathy. They go out at the same stop as I do. To get something to drink from the Iki, apparently. As I turn
around to walk away I tell them to “take care”, which is my way of saying “please don’t drink yourselves into
a coma”. After I say it I realize that even if I did tell them this literally, it would be nothing more than naïve
from my part. I would like to see them stop drinking and start taking part in society. But is that what they
would want? Is that what would make them happy? And why do I even assume they aren’t already taking
part in society? The more I think about this, the more I dislike myself and my own assumptions. When
someone’s experience of the world is so drastically different from yours that it’s beyond comparison, there’s
no use in wanting that person to change. It’s better to be friendly and not challenge their beliefs and
lifestyle. Adapt, just for a moment, to their world and see the difference you’re making. As I wait for the light
to turn green, I hear someone shouting behind me. “Olandija!” I turn around to see the two guys, the
younger of which is shouting and lifting up his hands. I can’t help but laugh and wave back. I then turn back
and cross the road, towards the university. I wonder how they would react when they would be placed in
one of the classes. Welcome to this class of Public Understanding of Social Sciences and Humanities. Would
they think it’s all nonsense? What would they say of this text? I think it would mean very little to them.
Nevertheless, I walk to the university with a smile on my face.