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Three days in and Jacob had yet to say a single word to me. I managed to greet him every morning with an over friendly "Goedemorgen" and found any opportunity possible to thank him with a "dank je wel". He was a very calm boy for one but I knew that I needed to put more work in to break down his walls. Afterall, he was the only real reason I was in this country, so I needed to find a way to connect with him. 

There was one thing that I noticed every evening so far. After we ate, he'd brush his teeth and then find himself outside with a football in the garden. There was a children size soccer goal net in the backyard that he'd kick the ball into. I loved football so I figured that might be something we could do together, but I wasn't quite sure how to approach it yet. 

The holiday was coming to an end quite soon and then I would need to take over the charge of Jacob and the little dog as well. They had a black and white puppy that was a cross between a Norwegian Lundehund and some kind of herding dog. He had the sharp features of a fox with a lithe medium-sized body. 

Katos was a lively little fellow but that didn't detract from how afraid of him I was. That also meant that the idea of walking into a forest alone with a dog without anyone was not exactly high on my bucket list. 

Three days in and I was already neck deep in things that broke every rule in my self-preservation handbook. Fun times. But, then again, nobody travels across the planet to stay inside their comfort zone. 

"Hooi hooi," a melodic voice sounded from the hallway. 

I popped my head out of the living room and saw the sweet face of Jacob's grandmother. His grandfather was a stern but kind man. I loved it when they visited. Lord knows that I needed the help considering tonight was my night to cook. 

While Jacob and his grandfather sat in the living room, Henricht read something on his phone while Jacob read one of the books that his grandmother, Lydia, brought for him.  Lydia's silver-blonde hair was clipped back, and she placed her jersey on the chair on the table while we prepped the food. 

I was upfront with my host family during the application process and told them that my culinary skills were mostly limited to fried eggs and grilled cheese sandwiches. That meant that they were well aware that I was in need of a crash course in cooking. 

"Okay, sweetie, you prep the rice and I'll go to my car to fetch the stuff I brought," she said and patted my shoulder, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I poured the boiling water into the pot and turned on the heat while fetching the rice. I realized that the rice was still packed away so I went searching in the pantry but when I turned around there was a tapping sound on the stove. 

Tick. 

Tick. 

Tick. 

I took a steady step towards the hot electric stove but as my foot flattened on the ground, one last tick turned into a crackle and the glass lid of the pop exploded.

Fuck. 

I face-palmed myself with closed eyes before turning off the stove and gathering the broom to clean up. When Lydia walked back into the kitchen with her hands full of embroidered blankets and a jar of cookies under her other arm, I dropped the broom and jumped up to help her place the jar down. 

"What happened here?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow. 

I clenched my jaw and breathed out through my nose with a wince on my face, looking between her and the remnants of an exploded pot. She pursed her lips before giggling and placing down her box of embroidered quilts and fabrics. She walked over to the stove and removed the pot from the metal frame, placing it aside. 

Thankfully, I didn't burn the rice too, so we ended up making the meal without another hitch. 

"If you don't mind, can we maybe not tell the others about the pot?" I asked her with an embarrassed laugh. She chuckled again and patted my shoulder again. 

"Don't worry, dear. I don't think they even heard us inside there. Both of them are too stuck in their reading," she said, and I smiled at her. 

I didn't have any time to think things over because I needed to hop on a bus to my first Dutch class in Hilversum. Thankfully, since I was the proud holder of a residence card and an ING bank account, I didn't have to take the long trek to Naarden this time. I just need to do a 30-second bicycle ride to the bus stop. It was as easy as breathing to hop on the bicycle this time around and I even dismounted like a pro, or a six-year-old with confidence. 

Once I was on the bus, I could finally breathe. There was nothing on the planet that calmed me more than a long ride with a beautiful view and folk music blasting in my ears. 

The ride was not as long as I thought it would be. I was starting to think that every location in the Netherlands was only a stone's throw away. It was ridiculously easy to travel across the country. 

"Goedenavond, iedereen," our Dutch teacher greeted everyone and welcomed us all to take our seats. The class was a mix of people from across the globe. From Germany to Pakistan and from South Africa to Poland, every race and multiple ethnicities were accounted for in our tiny classroom. 

It was strange to be in a classroom again because it brought back all the feelings of insecurity and isolation I had during high school, but this was different. I wasn't the loser who never went out to these people or the nerd who listened to nihilistic poets. To them, I was an international expat who travelled across the planet to pursue a new opportunity. I was brave a risk-taker and even a little exotic. It hit me like a freight train at that moment, I didn't have to be the girl I was. I didn't have to carry my inefficiencies into my new life. Here, I got to decide who I wanted to be. 

That made me beam and every interaction I had for the rest of the night, including our short recess, was positive and engaging and I was, dare I say it, charismatic. 

…

When I got back to my host parents' house, everyone was in the living room. I greeted them and made a turn towards the kitchen, where my food was waiting for me in the microwave. I was enjoying the food that Lydia helped me rescue and all but inhaled it. While eating, I looked outside into the garden and saw Jacob kicking the ball by himself. Everyone else was still talking amongst themselves in the living room so I finished my meal and placed the plate in the dishwasher before making my way outside.

"Hooi," I greeted the boy and walked ahead to retrieve the ball from the goal net. I stood in front of the net and raised my hands up the way a goalkeeper might.

He stood still for a second and observed me. But as soon as I rolled the ball toward him, he was quick to act and catch the ball beneath his foot. I smiled with the corner of my mouth without saying a word. He made a few steps forward, dribbling the ball as he made his way closer to me and the goalpost.

This went on for a good half an hour before his mom called him in. He smiled at me for a second before running inside. It wasn't like we were best friends, but it was a start. 

…

Once I got into my room, I wanted to call every person in my high school and scream in their face that they were wrong about me, instead, I called my mom from the bus. My sister was beside her and they were both on my mom's bed trying to squeeze their heads into the frame of the cellphone. 

"Hi, hi! How are you?" my mom asked with wide eyes and a broad smile. My little sister, only 12 years old, was also beaming at me. I had only texted them until now, but it was beyond amazing to see their faces. 

"I'm good, mommy!" I said back, trying to hold back the tears because until that moment I hadn't realized how homesick I really was. 

"Why is it light outside? It's like 10 o'clock at night, Tay!" my sister piped up and sat forward to look closer at the phone. I couldn't help but chuckle because I could hardly believe that the sun was out either. Considering the Netherlands and South Africa we're still in the same time zone, it was unbelievable to anyone in the south peninsular of the globe that the sun would still be out this time of night.

My mother's eyes were wet with tears, I hoped that they were a result of happiness rather than sadness, but she missed me. I felt the same. I missed home and my family but this was an amazing opportunity that I couldn't pass off. Besides I had the rest of my life to see them and only now to explore the world. If I lived well on this side, I'd have heaps of stories to tell them when I got back home.

"Night, guys," I said to my family.

I fell back onto my bed with a grin on my face. I'm definitely getting the hand of this Dutch thing!