Yodel-aye-hee-hoo!

"An Austrian went yodeling on a mountain top high, when along came a Jersey cow interrupted his cry. . ." A classic camp song that has been stuck in my head the entire time I have been visiting the beautiful country of Austria.

During this adventure I have felt incredibly blessed to be a small part of this continent of Europe. I am thankful for this opportunity as so many people do not get to see beyond their own comfort zone.
"There's too much world and not enough time to see it all"
_ I watched the mountains grow larger as we drove through Switzerland on our way to Austria this amazing realization crossed my mind.

The road to Fort Valley, Virginia would seem like a short stroll in the park after the mountains I have zig-zagged up and down here. My favorite landmark we visited was the White Lake. The water was crystal as it tumbled down the mountain, melting from the glaciers. The lake looked as if a mermaid could pop out of the water any minute. There was a magicalness away from reality that enveloped me in it's beauty.

In my short time here we saw snow glaciers, listened to a German marching band, took a tour of a castle built in the 1200's, went mountain biking for 15 miles (which made me feel more alive than I have felt in years), rode on a cable car for the first time, went down the Fiss Flitzer (which was a terrifyingly wonderful experience), and visited Samnauen, Switzerland and Reschen, Italy.

I have settled into the embrace of these large mountainous rocks. I can only imagine how exposed I will feel when I return to the Netherlands this weekend. I love being able to look out the window and see into a deep valley and look for miles to see mountain top after mountain top surrounding me.

Pieter and I hope to make coming to this part of Europe a tradition for our anniversary. We'll see where life takes us! For now_ Farewell Austria, I hope to visit you again in the coming years!

Austrian mountains

The White Lake 

The hike around White Lake

Snowy mountain tops in Italy

Church tower in Italy

To Germany!

Through the Netherlands, Belgium, France, Luxembourg, Switzerland, and Germany we made it to Rickenbach, Germany on Saturday afternoon. It was surreal for me to ride through those foreign countries. While most of the sights were open fields, mountain ranges, and roads, we did pass a beautiful castle in the distance and some French and Swiss homes that are unique and adorable like little doll houses. My mind kept thinking about how I had seen movies filmed in these countries and as a child how I had read story books about them. Swiss cheese, German chocolate cake, Belgian waffles, and French fries_ it is so much more than all that!

After being in the flat Netherlands for a month, it was strange to drive up a steep mountain into a place that looked similar to my home. Surrounded by mountains and gorgeous open fields brings me comfort. The village we are staying in is built on a hill. Any walk you take includes some cardio. The architecture in the buildings makes it difficult, for me, as a tourist, to not stop and take pictures.

So far, we have ventured off on a few hikes up in the mountain of Totenbuhl. There are patchy forests with tall trees and then vast open fields that are perfect for reenacting 'The Sound of Music' opening scene. The sky seems more blue here, the air fresher, and the grass greener. Pictures cannot even express the beauty found here.

The village below

This beautiful tree was planted after the 30 years war. A 367 year old tree! 

German homes

Beginning our hike, one of many hills!

Herfst (Autumn)

On December 14th, 2014 I flew out of the country for the very first time. The day before our flight, I cried in my husbands arms because I was so nervous about the journey we had ahead of us.

Eight months later, here I am! For those of you that see me around Arnemuiden or have spent time with me in the months I have been in Europe I must admit, the main emotion I feel most days is fear. I want people here to understand that when I am quiet and reserved, I am taking everything in_ the conversation, the routines, facial expressions and tone of voice, the food, and the surroundings. It is all very overwhelming for me. Even though I have been a part of this country's cultural differences for almost three months total now, the differences still take some getting used to.

I grew up in the small town of Woodstock, Virginia. The state of Virginia is 110,786 square kilometers in size. It has half the population as the entire country of the Netherlands (8 million compared to 16 million).The country I come from, America, has a population of 319 million. All this to say, I am used to something so much different. 

Recently, the biggest cultural difference I have had to embrace is my change in transportation. If a person is seen biking alongside of the road in most parts of Virginia it means one of three things 1) He is one of those tree-hugger types, saving the earth from pollution! 2) He's a poor college age student who is too proud for public transportation. 3) He's a middle-aged man trying to get some exercise. Biking here in the Netherlands is the norm. I can bike, I am actually pretty good at it. My dad taught me how to when I was six years old. It was purely for recreational purposes and I loved biking in the backyard as a kid. But having to rely on it as my main source of getting one place to another is a little intimidating_ having to stop mid-cycle for traffic, biking through pouring down rain, or carrying large boxes and bags on the back of this small piece of metal, while impressive, is not ideal for me. 

Bikes at Middelburg train station

In the five months I was back in America this year, multiple people asked me how the weather was in the Netherlands. My response was always that it was the same in both countries. After being back here in the summertime, I can honestly say that summers here are not nearly as hot as they are in America! Arnemuiden is near the sea, so there is a nice breeze blowing through on most days. Temperatures fall in between low 60's and low 70's usually, with little to no humidity!

With the changing of seasons coming upon us, my heart begins to miss home. Back at home, autumn is spent buying back to school supplies, soaking up those last evenings of late sunshine, curling up under a wool blanket at a football game, sipping on watered down hot chocolate, and getting excited that first time you see your breath fog up in the cool night air! For me, while spring is all about new life and new beginnings, I believe that fall time is about closeness_ preparing for that long cold winter. Comfy sweaters, candles that smell as if you could eat them for dessert, crockpots full of homemade food, and baking cookies. To me, fall is about family and coming home. 

Blue Ridge Mountains in the fall_ my home. 

This fall, I face a new beginning, new traditions, and new memories to be made. Pieter and I just recently began renting a small apartment in a larger village. We have gotten quite resourceful with making spaces our own and living with a little as we have gone through this experience. As September creeps in quickly I anticipate celebrating our one year wedding anniversary, I look forward to a trip to Germany and Austria (thank you Oma and Opa), and I am blessed to be with my husband for his 28th birthday! Here's to whatever else might be lying up ahead for Lydia and Pieter Tramper this coming season!

Pieter and I at a family barbecue

I Have Returned!

Last Wednesday I drove on the backroads of Woodstock a little slower than I usually do, taking it all in. I was not sure when the next time would be that I would drive on those hills or pass those familiar landmarks. The day was not as stressful as I thought it would be. Evening came and my suitcase remained empty. My mom made one of my favorite dinners and a delicious apple pie. This was my last meal in America for a while.

My brother, strong football player that he is, weighed my humongous suitcase in at 47 pounds. I was relieved and amazed that it was under the airlines weight requirements. My dad helped me carry my luggage out to his car the next afternoon. My heart tightened as I walked to the car, the uncertainty of when I would be back loomed in the air as we pulled out of the driveway.

Finally on my way back to my husband, I felt comfortable in that little car. But the realization that I would soon be in another form of transportation, surrounded by strangers, made my stomach drop. I did not want the car ride to end. 

The airport was all too familiar, too many memories of goodbyes, tears shed, and hopeful anticipation of past journeys once ventured. Strangely enough, I found myself smiling at everyone I passed once I got down to security. I told myself not to get excited about my reuniting with Pieter until I was actually close. I was anxious for the security checks, bus rides, and boarding pass scans to all be over. All I wanted was to be in his arms again, but this is what I had to go through to get there. 

My first flight went smoothly, I would not say it was enjoyable, but it was not unpleasant. The middle hour and the last hour are always the worst of any flight. Three and a half hours in I thought the flight would never end. At the seventh hour, the pilot announced that we would be landing soon and that all passengers needed to prepare, this was thirty minutes before landing. Those thirty minutes were the longest in my life and my facial expression showed it. I had run out of things to do to pass the time and I wanted to be off that plane.

I spent the majority of flight number two paranoid that I was on the wrong flight. The stewardesses were wearing strange uniforms I had never seen before and the static on the planes intercom made it difficult to hear flight details from the pilot. I had no idea where I would end up. No one around me spoke English and I felt foolish to ask anyways. After barely making this flight because I was in the bathroom and having lost six hours of my life while I was in the air, I think I was just delusional.

My arrival in Amsterdam simply could not come fast enough. I allowed myself to get excited the last twenty minutes of the flight and I reviewed all I needed to do upon landing and entering the third airport of the day. I was in my own little world as I dashed to baggage claim. As I waited to retrieve my 47 pound suitcase, I watched the belt go around with the same three suitcases nearly twenty times. After a bathroom break, I came back, spotted my luggage, and was on my way through those doors to my husband. I was thrilled and exhausted. My heart felt whole again as we embraced. Too much time had gone by without him by my side. I talked his ear off the whole way to Rotterdam. :)

Being back in America for five months, I had gotten comfortable. The bustle of Rotterdam greeted me with unfamiliar and unfriendly faces, dozens of strange foreign languages, and a reminder that things are very different here. It was overwhelming. Trudging through the city streets with my suitcases in tow was the highlight of my trip across the pond. I needed sleep in a comfy bed and a nice shower. Once we finally checked into our hotel, priorities had changed, that had turned into only needing sleep. Let the week of jetlag begin!

Date night to see 'Jurassic World' in Rotterdam

A Stronger Me

Growing up, I never had much confidence as an individual. My sister and I did everything together_ high school, sports camps, even college! Any anxieties I had about socializing were always comforted with the relieving fact that my sister would be by my side. During that time in my life I could not picture going a day without talking to my sister. I went to her with everything, hardly made any decisions on my own, and I was content with living my life that way.

My independence, self-esteem, and leadership qualities really began to blossom when I got the opportunity to work as a summer camp counselor. I realized how much I had to offer on my own. I was still quiet, shy, and reserved that first summer I worked there, but it forced me to branch out.

Through branching out, I realized what a complex person I was. I took psychological quizzes and personality tests trying to figure out where to go next in life and they all came out with mixed results. I struggled to find myself because of this. How can a person be a leader and a follower? A good listener and a good talker? In order to be considered ‘normal’, a person is supposed to fall on either side, right? Well, I teeter in the middle of the spectrum.

                                    
    Summer 2012 working as a camp counselor with this awesome group of people!

                                      

Pieter and I saying good-bye after working together that summer. 

(He had no idea how much I liked him then) ;)

During our time of dating, my now husband quickly discovered that I am somehow both an extrovert and an introvert. I benefit from interaction with people and crave it when I am on my own for too long, but it drains me and I need that ‘just me’ time just as much. It is difficult to make friends and know where your place in society is when you have so many different sides to yourself.

The past two weeks, as my departure to the Netherlands creeps up quickly, I have been conversing with Pieter about how all of this has made me a stronger person. I feel like I was never cut out to be in a situation like this, but I have to choose to believe that it is preparing me for something in our future. When I talk to Pieter about having to do something I really do not want to do without him, I end in saying “but I know it is making me stronger”. From the moment the security guards told me my husband would not be joining me in the States, to the moment I made the decision to return home to work for five months without my husband, to walking through baggage check in tears at the Amsterdam airport all by myself, and every life event I have weathered in between_ this has made me stronger. I have recognized my potential, seen qualities in myself I never knew existed, and held onto hope tighter than I thought I would ever have to.

                                   

The Planner

In two days I will only have seven more weeks left in America. Pieter and I have made the decision for us to live in the Netherlands for the time he is unable to be in America. While we are still in the process of getting my visa paperwork done, finding an affordable apartment, and planning the nearby future, we are both excited to know we are going somewhere.

I have always been a planner and I like to feel in control of my life. If someone were to go through all the things in my room, they would find notebooks of plans and ideas of how I thought I could get from one point to another. In high school I made a plan of where I’d go to college, what summer job I would get, and how I might be able to get a boyfriend. In college I made countless plans of how I would pass my classes, make enough money to pay for tuition, and how many credits I would need to earn for my degree. When Pieter and I were dating I made all sorts of plans for nights out together, for our future (10, 20, even 30 years), I even typed up a three page plan just for our engagement and all the options we had. I always feel better about life when I have a plan. (Just for the record, none of these plans have ever gone according to plan, but I keep trying.)

Out of the hundreds of things that has bothered me about this time away from my husband, the uncertainty in not knowing where I want to go in the years ahead has been one of the biggest challenges. Determined to have a plan, I spend a lot of evenings that I have off work searching for apartments and making budget plans for the months of August to February.

I guess this tentative ‘plan’ makes it obvious that our goal is to have Pieter and I back in America by next February, but there is no guarantee. We continue to go through each day not really thinking about the process and trying not to let the past and present get in the way of making the best of our future together.

Countdown

The month of May seems to be passing by just as quickly as it came. As I reach the ‘ten more weeks’ mark on my countdown to when I reunite with my husband again, I get more anxious, nervous and excited with each day that passes.

I do hate times in life when the days and weeks become more of a countdown than a blessing from God. Moments in life when you have a special vacation coming up and all you want is for that day to come, so the weeks before just cannot pass quickly enough! But as the days pass I am still relieved when I can get through one more night after a long day at work, one more special occasion, and one more Sunday morning alone at church.

I am forever grateful to my parents who have welcomed me back home and have been great company to me in my time away from my husband. I could not ask for a more supportive family and I simply cannot thank them enough. Nights when I do not want to be alone, they are there. Mornings when I should be making breakfast for Pieter, my mom is there to chat with. It helps a lot and I cannot imagine having to live all by myself through this time.

The months ahead after this summer seem so uncertain and scary. Our future has become so misconstrued. In the midst of the doubts and the many fears we both have, we do try and hold on to the fact that God is already there in the days ahead. He knows when Pieter will get to return to America, when I’ll finish school, where we’ll end up living, where we’ll both find jobs, and when we’ll get to start a family. In the chaos of the world today we forget too often that we do not have to try to control everything. When we do try to control it all, we quickly realize it is not possible.