You probably know that feeling of wanting something new, that desire to conquer the unknown, and to reach a destination that only was a part of an imagination. You probably can relate to the obsession for a first-hand experience of what people only talk about, what you see in pictures and what you only hear others speak of. You probably understand the anticipation to see and feel and to be immersed in what was unknown. That was what motivates me to travel abroad to study.

When you reach the unknown, you end the journey of the UNKNOWN and begin a new one: KNOWN. But in between is a series of mishaps, trial and error, uncertainties, doubts and bewilderment.

My first few months as an international student was no better. Culture shock, a word I have only used as a term that denotes my shock when I see couples in PDA at an Adventist university, now creeps at me on every side and in every form. Burgers are served thrice the size of burgers in Jollibee, small servings of drinks are too much to handle, and there are no jeepneys. Then there was the endless exploration of how to use a dishwasher, an automatic laundry machine, an oven, the heater and airconditioner, and the shower. There were just too much buttons that one could almost imagine the houses also have options to fly.

Then there were fire alarms, and smoke alarms, and garage alarms which are totally foreign and unbelievable. These alarms were my worst enemies. The first attack on me was the smoke alarm while cooking fried tofu. The oil became excitedly hot, and smoke filled the kitchen. In Philippines this is totally normal! We fry daing and tuyo and all sorts of everything and there was no complain. So imagine my shock when the smoke alarm went off. How long will that sound? Why? And am I paying if it sounds? Will the fireman come? Lady=0, Alarms=1

The fire alarm was my road to instant popularity. A cellist requested me to accompany his Brahms sonata. We agreed to rehearse in the choir room, the largest room in the department, at night. At the appointed time, I went inside the dark room and reached for the lights. Yes, you guessed which one I turned on and the commotion it caused. FIRE ALARM! Everyone inside the whole building came out and called the campus safety came. The next day, a random person told me “We heard you caused some excitement last night.” Lady=0, Alarms=2.

The last attack before I even knew all these enemies happened in California, when I try to open my relatives’ house. One minute I was doing the passcode, the next minute, whole house was sounding the ear-piercing alarm for five minutes. My paranoia went to the whole new level when I heard police sirens and thought they were coming at the house. Lady=0, Alarms=3. New discoveries are never underrated.

In those first five months of discovery, I learned to be limit my daring spirit and my fascination to do things which other people haven’t done yet. Curiosity caused me to bike o Niles (16km from Andrews Univeristy). Am I proving something? No. Exercise? No. Curiosity? Yes. I started early morning in a cloudy weather. And in those trial and error days, I still haven’t developed the weather-check habit. Nor the checking the map habit. I simply followed the road and philosophically argues, Life is like a bike ride. You simply have to pedal one step at a time. And pedal I did, until I reached Niles, spend some few minutes at the lake side watching the lazy ducks. Heading home was not too bad until it rained. Hard. Cold. I was still philosophically arguing, “Life is like a bike ride. Sometimes rain comes but you have to pedal.” In the midst of that, a stranger stopped and told me how dangerous it is for girl, or anyone, to bike in the rain in that freeway. He offered me a ride, and I said no. He offered again. I said yes. Well, he looks fine and harmless. It was rather nerve-wracking and risky to ride with a stranger whose back seat is full of trash but brags about how much he earns and gives you a calling card to call him “in case you broke up with your boyfriend.” In that moment, I ran out of philosophical thoughts, only desire to get home. Ironically, sometimes the unknown is best left unknown.

But then, there was also this glorious discovery of the snowflake and winter in general which was so fascinating that I intend to actually write a whole picturesque article about it which begins with this: “One feels like in a hazy, dazzling dream. Everything is so dreamy that you can almost imagine a melancholic movie soundtrack playing in the background with a solitary figure walking on the snowy road, leaving footprints behind.” Then there is this endless surprise of what would spring up as lifeless soil in winter suddenly comes to life in spring. After the series of melancholic tones in winter comes a sunny major theme that even the robin transpose to a different mode. There was also the daily discovery that you can wear a snow jacket on Monday, a tshirt on Tuesday and a light jacket on Wednesday morning and back to snow jacket on Wednesday afternoon— which, by the way, happens during spring.

There still remains endless discoveries but hopefully no more will be said of alarm accidents, or stanger encounters. Today, I could philosophically say, in the journey of the knowing the unknown, one realizes their own resposibility to every decision however small it may be. But in events where judgement is clouded or limited given his background, God’s hand is present.