Novel Adventure 2 - Flipbook - Page 26
“Traveling is not just about seeing new places, it’s about
discovering new versions of yourself.” – Bisong Simon.
As I continued to explore the city, I encountered more awkward
encounters, but also more moments of beauty and connection. I met a
group of friendly locals who showed me around the city, introduced me
to their customs and traditions, and shared their stories and laughter with
me.
“The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one
page.” – Bisong Simon.
As I turned the pages of my own book, I realized that culture shock
was not just a temporary discomfort, but a permanent transformation.
It was a reminder that the world is full of di昀昀erent cultures, languages,
and customs, and that the beauty of traveling lies in embracing and
celebrating these di昀昀erences.
“Home is where the heart is, but what if your heart is in multiple
places?” – Bisong Simon.
As I settled into my new life in Amsterdam, I knew that I would always
carry a piece of this city with me, and that my heart would forever be
divided between multiple places and cultures. As I settled into my new
life in Amsterdam, I began to notice the little things that made this city
so unique. The way the sunlight 昀椀ltered through the canals, casting a
golden glow over the city. The sound of bicycles ringing their bells as
they whizzed by. The smell of freshly baked stroopwafels wafting from
the street vendors. But despite the charm of the city, I couldn’t shake o昀昀
the feeling of being an outsider. I struggled to understand the nuances of
Dutch culture, and often found myself accidentally o昀昀ending locals with
my unintentional faux pas.
One day, as I was trying to order a sandwich at a local deli, I
accidentally used the wrong pronoun to refer to the shopkeeper’s wife.
The shopkeeper’s face turned bright red with anger, and he sternly
corrected me. “She is not ‘hij’, she is ‘zij’!” he exclaimed. I felt a
wave of embarrassment wash over me, and I quickly apologized. But
as I walked away from the deli, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Why
was it So hard to learn this language? And why did the locals seem so
unforgiving?
As I wandered through the city, feeling lost and alone, I stumbled upon
a small bookstore. The sign above the door read “English Bookstore”,
and I felt a surge of hope. Maybe this was the place where I could
昀椀nally 昀椀nd some answers. I pushed open the door and stepped inside,
and was immediately greeted by the friendly face of the owner, a woman
named Sophie. She asked me where I was from, and I told her about my
struggles with the language and culture.
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