Hi friends!

Wowzers, it’s been a long six months! I’m home home home now on Long Island! Well, actually I’m writing this sitting in a Starbucks after a morning meeting with a choreographer I’ll be working with as a part of my internship in a few weeks. It’s weird and great being back in the States. I just wish my parents could know how immensely grateful I am to have had the Study Abroad experience. They’ll never know the boundlessless of my gratitude because I’m blessed and lucky beyond the description of words.

My last two weeks were filled with theatre, final visits to the pubs I came to know over my six months, a final visit to The Drowned Man where I met the choreographer and cried in her arms, final revisits to a few of my favorite burger joints, and a few museum visits.

Anyway, I’m home now, and boy, was getting home an adventure.

I was a mess to begin with, let me make that very clear. Moving out of my flat was easy enough, I was a little emotional as I took everything off my walls and stuffed it all into my suitcases. Then Saturday June 21st came. I woke up super early and waited for my taxi to get there at 11:30. It didn’t get there until 1:30pm. My flight was at 4:00pm. And there was traffic. So I’m a nervous wreck. And then I get to the airport, and the fat check-in attendant Porky the English Pig was having a terrible day and clearly in a bad mood told me one of my bags was overweight beyond the limit of being overweight and that it can not fly unless I buy a new bag and redistribute some of the weight. I’m already rushing at this point. He was yelling at me and I was upset enough as it is. It gets worse. I bought the bag and redistribute and check in and all that jazz. I came to London with 2 suitcases, a duffel, and a backpack. I left London with 3 suitcases, 2 backpacks, and a duffel. Mess.

It’s time to go through security now, and it was so relaxed they could have offered me a margarita and I would have taken it. So relaxed. Got Starbucks, and get on the plane with minutes to spare. As we pull out of the gate, my eyes well up and I start to quietly cry. I was sad to leave London. Despite being alone for 90% of the semester, it was the best six months of my life.

The safety video comes on. I was sitting in the second row of coach. In front of me are a family with a mother, father, and young baby. In front of them was the wall that separates the peasants from the businessmen and women in business class. This is important.

The safety video comes on. Across the aisle from me is a woman who’d been working in Slovakia teaching at an international school, who tried, unsuccessfully to mediate the conflict between the  two French women and the American woman behind her. The two French women were somehow accidentally seated with this American woman in between them and the American refused to switch seats with one of the French women so they could sit next to each other. There was a lot of yelling, and I thought this was going to be all of the excitement for the flight.

The safety video comes on. Next to me are a married couple and the husband is large and taking up half of my seat too. In front of me, across the aisle from one another are two trashy Southern American women, who I would later find out are racist.

The safety video comes on. The plane taxis. The baby in front of me starts to cry.



The plane continues to taxi. The baby squirms.

The video continues. The mother screams.

She screams for a flight attendant. The father has dropped the baby, and the baby has hit its head on the wall in front of them. The baby vomits. The baby passes out.

“Is there a doctor on board? There’s a bit of a situation involving a young child.”

Back to the gate, taxi taxi. If this had happened 2 minutes later we would have been in the air.

Over the next three hours, the baby is taken off the plane with its family in tow, the luggage crew takes their sweet time getting their luggage off the plane, and the plane is refueled. So we take off 3 hours later than intended.


The flight is easy and smooth and we land and I’m so happy and sad and excited all at once. Get my luggage, head through customs and stuff.

I get home and my dog looks at me and says “God bless us everyone, I thought you’d forgotten about me!”

The next day I got my first good bagel and my first good ice coffee of the summer and a haircut and then friends and family come over for a reunion barbecue! It was fun!

The next day I do my laundry. There’s a lot of it. And I clean out my desk. Fun.

The next day, my internship started! And I’ve been there ever since, pretty much! Woot!

It’s the Fourth of July Weekend now! Who knows what’s in store 😉


Measure in Love,




About Kevin Berry

jamba juice. mennonite. enneagram.
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