My room is off the kitchen, requiring me to amble past my host-family each morning with my wonderful bedhead and in pajamas to go shower. The door is squeaky and whines every time I open it more than a foot, something that makes me cringe when I arise early or return late. However, I awake early each morning to kitchen noises, the kettle whistling, the sink running, or my younger host-brother chattering.
The room itself is about twenty long and eight feet wide, with the door located in the left corner of the room and a high ceiling. The only window takes up most of the far wall, and underneath it is the radiator, that often warms my back while I sit on the floor and do homework. Five shelves run about eight feet lengthwise down the right side of my room, with the majority of them being too high for me too reach. Five more shelves, about two feet wide, run slightly behind the door, and are lower than the others, but still high. On the white walls of my room are old posters for the Berlinale, drawings, and artsy photographs. The floor is covered slightly by a large colorful but worn rug, and a smaller faux white fur run.
In the corner by the radiator and window are a blue chair that I hang my wet laundry on, and the opposite corner contains my bedside table, accompanied by my bed. Both are lower to the ground, and the latter takes up the majority of the width of the room, leaving an awkward foot-wide space between the other wall and it's end, requiring me to either step onto the bed to get to the window or awkwardly bend under the shelves that run over the gap.
Past my bed stands my suitcase, which I've turned into a makeshift rolling laptop desk, and my wardrobe, which wobbles a little and stands thin but tall, dominating the room. Next to that is my lamp that is designed to look like cattails and flowers. It is easy to catch clothes on and often rattles when nudged.
Across from said lamp and my wardrobe is my desk, consisting of a glass top supported by two wooden sawhorses. Underneath the glass lie my photos of my family, friends and home. To the right of it, near the door, in the opposite corner is a sleeping mat and pillow which have been turned into a makeshift lounge area on which I read.
The first shelf in the longer system is for my things, and it is from the supports of this that I have hung an ornament I found on the street, my toiletries case, as well as my case for my writing utensils, deck of cards, sleeping mask, earplugs and other miscellaneous items. Above them runs the shelf containing my many scarves, neatly folded and organized according to color. Next to them lies a mirror, surrounded by my jewelry, contacts case and glasses case. Behind them stands postcards, cards and letters from my family and friends. I've received the most letters out of anyone in my program and each one makes me smile.
Further down are:
- small collection of toys I've acquired from KinderEggs
- grey stone from a lake by my house
- miniature Easter Island head, borrowed from my house at school
- photos of myself, my parents and grandmother
- old postcard of my school's campus
- name tag from my room door at school, made from a map
- drawing that states 'Where there is tea, there is hope,' with a small cup of tea
- box of Yorkshire Tea
- old postcard of the skyline of my father's hometown and its three cathedrals
- an anonymous note I received as a freshman that reminds me that I am loved which was accompanied by...
- two paper origami dragons, one pink and one blue
- an ornament consisting of three different sized stars on different axis, hanging from the shelf support
This is my home away from home. I'm so happy to have my own space, and to be able to customize it slightly to make it more familiar and less foreign and bare. I'm quite fond of it, and will be sad when everything is once again packed into a suitcase.
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