Kentucky (1)
The following is a project on my experiences as exchange student in Kentucky when I was 17 years old. A lot of shit happen that year -and a lot didn't- so this blog is going to take loooong time but I'm determined to tell the world about it! This blog it's build like a conversation, but only my voice is heard.
Kentucky? The Blue Grass State? Are you really from Kentucky? Of course, I should have guessed that you were from Lexington. I know Kentucky because I lived there for a year. Oh no, it wasn't Lexington unfortunately; and you wouldn't know this place, its a small county about hour and a-half from Lexington; lost in the middle of no where. No, there's nothing there -other than the locals of course, and during one year there was me in addition to them.
It was several years ago, to be more precise I got there 4 weeks after my 17th birthday and stayed there for almost a year: 11 months, 4-seasons, 48 and a half weeks. Too many fucking days there, believe me.
I was suppose to start my senior year in high school in those late summer days back in my country, but the truth is that when I was about to finish my junior year, my parents... eh, well, that's another story. The case here is that I spent all my 17th year of life as an exchange student among sheeps, dogs, cats, flies, few rats, a goat, a couple of skinny horses, some squirrels and my younger brother Donni among other animals.
I certainly didn't choose to go there. But to be honest with you I would have not known: I had just turned 17 years old and had lived all my life in the same city and in the same country. Well, yeah, it was a large city, actually the second largest city in my country but when you haven't seen anything else it doesn't make any difference whatsoever.
The thing is that back in Kentucky I didn't live in a city or a town, not even a small town. I lived in a farm with one road as a connection to the world. On the left of the house, sitting on top of a hill there was a neighbor and perhaps one of the only friends I had. I should say that he was my neighbor's son who was like 10 years older than me, weighted 400 pounds and did nothing at all. On the other side of the house there was a hill and beyond that I was told there was another neighbor. The story goes that my host Dad had an argument with him like 8 years ago and they had never spoken again ever since. In the back of the house at dusk I could hear the wolves crying out, looking for mates perhaps. There was a neighbor down there, but I always thought that it should have lived close to the border with Tennessee several hundred miles away. And in front of the house (this was a farm so "in front" means one-quarter of a mile) was the road. Some afternoons I remember sitting in the porch with my host family talking and looking at the cars passing by. It was very much a mirror of the speed of life there, one car every 15 minutes on average; but if there was "heavy traffic" perhaps two in a 10-minute period of time.
One year of my life there, my seventeenth year on this planet. There I was, full of youth and testosterone and looking at the cars and life pass by.
Kentucky? The Blue Grass State? Are you really from Kentucky? Of course, I should have guessed that you were from Lexington. I know Kentucky because I lived there for a year. Oh no, it wasn't Lexington unfortunately; and you wouldn't know this place, its a small county about hour and a-half from Lexington; lost in the middle of no where. No, there's nothing there -other than the locals of course, and during one year there was me in addition to them.
It was several years ago, to be more precise I got there 4 weeks after my 17th birthday and stayed there for almost a year: 11 months, 4-seasons, 48 and a half weeks. Too many fucking days there, believe me.
I was suppose to start my senior year in high school in those late summer days back in my country, but the truth is that when I was about to finish my junior year, my parents... eh, well, that's another story. The case here is that I spent all my 17th year of life as an exchange student among sheeps, dogs, cats, flies, few rats, a goat, a couple of skinny horses, some squirrels and my younger brother Donni among other animals.
I certainly didn't choose to go there. But to be honest with you I would have not known: I had just turned 17 years old and had lived all my life in the same city and in the same country. Well, yeah, it was a large city, actually the second largest city in my country but when you haven't seen anything else it doesn't make any difference whatsoever.
The thing is that back in Kentucky I didn't live in a city or a town, not even a small town. I lived in a farm with one road as a connection to the world. On the left of the house, sitting on top of a hill there was a neighbor and perhaps one of the only friends I had. I should say that he was my neighbor's son who was like 10 years older than me, weighted 400 pounds and did nothing at all. On the other side of the house there was a hill and beyond that I was told there was another neighbor. The story goes that my host Dad had an argument with him like 8 years ago and they had never spoken again ever since. In the back of the house at dusk I could hear the wolves crying out, looking for mates perhaps. There was a neighbor down there, but I always thought that it should have lived close to the border with Tennessee several hundred miles away. And in front of the house (this was a farm so "in front" means one-quarter of a mile) was the road. Some afternoons I remember sitting in the porch with my host family talking and looking at the cars passing by. It was very much a mirror of the speed of life there, one car every 15 minutes on average; but if there was "heavy traffic" perhaps two in a 10-minute period of time.
One year of my life there, my seventeenth year on this planet. There I was, full of youth and testosterone and looking at the cars and life pass by.
Jean-Francois was drunk at 10:49 PM
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