Adventure on the Prairie

Three days ago I was struck by a whim that has turned nearly into a plan: namely, that I want to spend the summer working on a horse ranch in the American Midwest. I don't know if it's absurd or not, but I do think it's possible. I've already begun to research getting a travel visa and to work out the details. It would be in between May and October 2008; I would go to a student advisor at the Freie Uni first to see, among other things, if I would be able to re-apply from overseas; I would place an advertisement in the National Geographic or some other national periodical; etc.

The main thing I have to make sure is that the reasons why I want to do this are good, for example not that I simply want to run away from my problems. So far I've found many advantages to the plan: I've always been interested in horse-back riding and the prairies (since I read the Laura Ingalls Wilder books); I don't like sitting around the whole time, as I have for the last year and a half, and if I am working on a ranch I will probably be quite active; it would be helpful to learn to get up early; it will most likely be an adventure; and so on and so forth. It would also be a lovely opportunity to read up on Midwestern history and geography and botany, horses, and First Aid; perhaps also to improve my Spanish.

Besides, I'm not getting much out of my time here in Berlin at present. University fell through; haven't got a job yet; seldom go out; etc. And I've met very few congenial people yet, and none my own age, which is not surprising under the aforementioned circumstances. But even if I had a full-time career and a social life, I don't think that these are enough to round out existence. One can't really get a sense of perspective on the relative importance of things in life even in the varied environment of the city. What one needs is, I think, to be busy physically as well as mentally, and to get to know the world from different perspectives. And, if I'm cleaning out the stables (or, perchance, even riding a horse) in the middle of the American countryside, not only will I see the world from a different angle, but I'll also be too busy to even think of employing my time with the guilt-ridden brooding of the past year. Besides, as far as I have seen and read, something about "roughing it" does give many people a steady self-respect and a quiet tolerance of everyone else. This is what I most want. One can be matured by other experience, too; but I'd rather shovel manure at 5 a.m. every day, or fall off a horse and break a leg and learn to take it in stride, than to suffer the slings and arrows of other people. As I learned in school, the petty persecutions of other people tend to destroy more than they build up, and the damage takes years to repair; I've had quite enough of it.

As for politics, I can distinguish the American government from the American people. The Americans I knew in school and university were mostly well-informed and tolerant. Where Bush is concerned, I do not consider that European leaders like Berlusconi are any better. Besides, it should be interesting to be in the US as the electoral campaigns hit their peak.

It's true that living in Berlin has many good points. The most obvious is that my family lives there. Then I like being among people who have a more thorough way of working, more interests, and perhaps more intelligence; I'd generally rather live in the city than the country, despite the dirt and bad air; and I am happy to be close to so many old buildings, museums, art galleries, etc. But none of this will be lost to me if I go off for four months or so, and I'll probably appreciate the advantages of Berlin twice as much after I return home. Altogether I know that this journey would have its risks, and might turn out a disappointment, but if it were to work out as I hope, I could get so much out of it.