How is it that I am in a country, by myself, where I don’t speak the language, don’t know basics like “Excuse me,” “Where is the bathroom?” and “Credit card,” and kind of feel normal?

There are six tall rectangular windows to my left, my mattress below them on the floor, overlooking a busy harbor. I have them to myself and I paid nothing for the view. If this experience isn’t a plug for couch surfers, I don’t have one.

I just bought a giant water bottle, frozen pizza, large “Bulgarian” yogurt, cherry jam, nutella, and pack of cheese for the equivalent of $15. Maybe I don’t feel weird because THIS IS FOREIGN HEAVEN.

The thing is, my friend moved here to be with her boyfriend, her job ended, and I have been to this city so I jumped in on the arrangement.

I wish that I could describe it better, but the best way I can say is that I’ve simply floated here.

When you’re in a vulnerable position like this, that of the unknown, it’s harder to take things for granted. You realize you are at strangers’ mercy at all times. Asking for directions, checking out at the grocery, the Germans are amazing because they switch to English once you say hi to them, it’s really lucky.

But even then, if during all the moments I trudge down these damp sidewalks while I step out of everyone’s way (the Europeans don’t move, they just run into you or scoot ever so slightly), I wonder how I would feel if I didn’t have a friend in close proximity to tell when I do walk into an Italian.

I know how I would feel: less sane.

Even though our friends can really only know us so much, familiarity is worth it’s weight in gold in situations like this.

When you feel alien in a culture and have no one to set it right, to say “no, you’re not alien. Well if you are, we are both aliens, which makes us… less alien,” it’s lonely but it’s more than that, it hurts just a little. There’s a sense of judgement coming from all corners when you do something that a culture doesn’t understand.

I have to take my shoes off when I come in the apartment. They don’t have proper cream at Starbucks, or filtered coffee, they have something called Vollmicht, which I think was just regular milk. Ick. The other type of milk, Hal-something, came out watery and weird. Blarf. It’s someone else to raise an eyebrow as they say their w’s with a v sound and chuckle afterwards. It’s someone to say “yes this is weird but it’s kind of cool but also, it’s definitely weird. Let’s be aliens together and explore.”

To my co-alien. Cheers.

Oh also on my first night I got here and you let me sleep on your boyfriend’s bed to catch up on rest and then you went with me to “check-in” at my couchsurfing place and the guy who was very quiet and kind of serious opened the door and showed us around and you were there with me to smile and nod and say thank you. Yeah, that was clutch. Thanks Co-Alien.