Some student writing...

...from my glorious days as a creative young student....though I wasn't creative at all as this is a real-life story (with a bit of creative freedom in some details, but the main events are all completely true). Not sure if this doesn't out me as a completely pathetic person but here it goes....



A week to remember

By XXXX

When I look back on all the holiday trips I've been on, I can honestly say that most of them were quite enjoyable. But there is one particular week that my memory will never allow me to forget, no matter how much time has gone by since then… October 1993 - I was thirteen years old and my mother had booked a trip to Austria for me to learn skiing. I was absolutely stunned. Was this the same woman who would never let me go to a sleepover, not even at my best friend's house, the woman who insisted on me being the first to leave every party I'd been to? Surely this was a joke. I mean it just had to be a joke. One of the cruel ones.

Why cruel? Well, first of all, I couldn't ski. Alright, I was supposed to learn it during that week. But I was not very athletic (to say the least) a girl with glasses as thick as the bottom of a bottle of Coke. I actually hated everything to do with sports. The second horrific aspect of a week in Austria was the group I had to travel with: upper-class kids from the best school in town, the richest dads around and with years of experience at skiing and snowboarding. Only because they went to St. Moritz or wherever, every winter. Of course. I knew everything about them and this legendary trip.

The only good thing was that my friend Anne would come as well. I had known her for almost eight years and although we never went to the same school (because she was one of THOSE kids), we remained friends. Unfortunately, her friend Carla was going too. Well, I thought, I could cope with that. All of my friends kept telling me how lucky I was to go to Sölden, the famous village in Austria where the group would stay. I didn't feel lucky at all. I still couldn't believe that my parents were doing this to me. I knew exactly where this would lead .

On the first day of the autumn holidays my family took me to the bus station, where a very strict looking woman seemed to be waiting just for me to arrive. Well, that was my impression. It was Mrs. Maus, who organised this tour every year. She looked at me like someone who sees a dead hedgehog on the road. And that was essentially what I wanted to be the moment I saw the other people who were supposed to come with us. One part of the group consisted of people around the age of 60, apparently already dressed in their skiing outfits! The other half was even worse: 25 teenagers ( mostly boys) around 17 years of age, all very cool-looking, noisy and, what I loathed most in this moment, happy. Anne and Carla seemed to know all of them. I said goodbye to my parents and siblings and got on one of the two busses waiting for us. It turned out that all the young people (including Carla) were on the other bus. Anne and I had to join the "old" group. We were the youngest anyway, but on this bus people treated us as if we were three years old. When someone found out that I had never been skiing before I earned another pitying look. What the hell was wrong with me??

During the ten-hour drive to Sölden we stopped at several rest areas. Carla took the chance to tell us how much fun it was to be on the other bus with all those cool older kids. I could see that Anne desperately wanted to be with them, too. But we had to stay with our new-found "friends". At around six o'clock we finally arrived in Sölden. We were disappointed to see that there was no snow at all. Our hotel was a small grey building. The town itself looked quite nice. Well, as nice as it could look in the rain. There were only a few shops and bars ,it seemed. And hardly any people were to be seen. Anne, Carla and I got one room which was surprisingly nice but had only one large bed. Which meant that I had to sleep on the sofa bed.

We learned that, in order to have dinner, we had to leave the house. Another hotel across the street would be the place where we were able to eat every night. Dinner on that first evening was not very comfortable for me. Nobody talked to me. On the other hand, I didn't feel the urge to start a conversation with anyone there, except Anne maybe. My whole attitude was so negative that the only urge I felt was the one to cry. Loudly. I will freely admit that I was homesick already. I WAS a little mummy's girl…

Day 1
A wonderful surprise greeted us the next morning. Stepping out onto our balcony we saw that it had snowed during the night. Suddenly everything looked romantic and those mountains you could see from our window had a beautiful white coat on them . We got dressed and rushed down for breakfast (which we could "enjoy" at our hotel). Dry bread and cold coffee convinced us how lucky we were not to have dinner at this hotel…

After putting our ski suits on we went outside to wait for the bus which would take us up to the slopes. When we arrived at the lifts we saw that there were already lots of people up there. The weather was great: it was sunny and cold. Because of my glasses I couldn't wear normal ski goggles, so I had two separate pieces of sun-glass to put on my regular glasses. I was the only one who was going to have lessons so Mrs Maus ( who turned out to be not that strict) came with me to rent skis, ski boots and poles for me. The people at the shop were very nice but they asked me how much I weighed because they had to give me the correct skies and boots. Being embarrassed, I lied to them, which they probably noticed. Oh, well, you have to have some secrets, right (even at the age of thirteen) ? Mrs Maus took me to my skiing course and left me at last. My teacher was not the attractive young ski hero I had been hoping for ,but a tanned man in his forties with a strong Austrian accent making it almost impossible for me to understand a word he was saying. The other people in my class were quite nice and everyone was excited. I have to say that we didn't do much on that first day, except learning how to fall and what to do when your ski comes off. We went down the so-called "idiot-slope" several times and then it was already time for me to meet the others. There were two slopes, one was the easy one, the other one was supposed to be really difficult. Everyone told me this, or let's say: I heard them talking about how exciting it was and how much fun it had been. There was this one group of boys from Anne and Carla's school. Boys who were a bit older than us and it was clear to me that Carla was determined to impress them. At dinner she couldn't stop boasting about her skiing skills. And she didn't get tired of pointing out that I was the only one who had spent the day on the "idiot-slope". It left me wondering who the idiot was. But I said nothing. Instead I just ignored her and her fabulous friends.

Day 2
Another surprise was awaiting me the next morning when we arrived at the ski runs. I got into a new skiing course ( I never learned the reason why) which meant that I got a new teacher and a new group. I got my equipment and this time we were allowed to go up to the easy slope. I got on the ski lift, which was basically a seat for three people and you had to sit on it with the skis on. It was a fun ride up with two nice girls from my course but once we arrived at the top I just wanted to disappear. What a mean trick: you had to jump up from your seat as soon as you arrived and ski down a small hill, from which you got to the real slope. I was scared and, of course, I practically fell out of the seat and slid down the hill with my skis coming off. Needless to say, this was the cause for much laughter. After happily (and healthily!) getting to the point where the skiing course had met, we tried to get down the ski run very slowly. This time I wasn't the only one who fell. It took us ages to get down and lots of very fast people skied by. But I have to say that it was fun despite the snow which constantly got on my glasses. I was really in need of a windscreen-wiper. Well, a windscreen-wiper for glasses.

Being happy that I survived my first experience on a ski run, I got into a very foolish mood that evening. Even Carla was being nice to me and so I didn't care what she would think of me. I had a little tape recorder with me and with that we recorded our conversation. We talked nonsense, but it was me who really lost control a bit and so I started talking about the boys, my family, school, crushes and, yes, for some crazy reason about gynaecologists and urologists ( my father IS a urologist). I don't know what had got into me, I was crazy. But I didn't think that anyone but us would ever get to hear this tape…

Later that evening the "cool boys" - Thilo, David, Nabil and Stefan - came to our room. They did talk to me and secretly I recorded our conversation, too. They laughed about my jokes, I laughed about their jokes, it was fun and I started to think that maybe they weren't that nasty after all. Well, only until they ripped off my cuddle mouse's tail!!! Oh, well.

Day 3
After we arrived at the ski station as we did every morning, I realised that I had forgotten my ski pass. I didn't have enough money with me to buy a ski pass for one day and, to be honest, I was glad to have a "day off". I stayed at the restaurant that was there as well and I met a few people from my first skiing course. Nothing spectacular happened that day and when we sat down for dinner I really felt as if I was part of the group. Not that it was very important to me to belong to this particular group, but it felt good.

Day 4
Another day on the mountain, another teacher for me! A very good-looking one, too! His name was Patrick and he was very nice. We met Anne, who wanted to get up on the easy slope with us. Patrick, Anne and I took a ski lift together. But the nearer we got to the top, the more my anxiety grew. When we arrived, Anne jumped off first, then Patrick and then… well, that should have been me, of course, but in my state of panic I stayed in my seat!!!!!!!!!

What then happened was the biggest embarrassment ever (up to that point at least!). The lift turned around a corner and I thought I would just go back down to the start. Instead a loud alarm signal could be heard and the lift ( and about a hundred people on the seats) stopped. I felt as if all people were looking at me, the fool who had caused this. Then the lift went backwards until it was in the normal "leaving" position. Luckily the very nice Patrick was waiting for me to help me out of the seat. Yes, I did feel like an 87-year old woman who needed some help! But the embarrassment didn't stop there:

After a few minutes on the slope, I fell flat on my face! Luckily my glasses didn't break entirely, but they were askew enough so that they wouldn't stay on my nose without me holding them up. I'm practically blind without glasses so it wouldn't have made much sense to take them off. That meant that I had to walk down the slope!!! All the people who were on the lift were laughing and shouting their little comments at me. Must have been funny for them. Not for me, though.

That evening I was the laughing stock of the group at dinner. They had all either seen me or had heard about my adventures. My glasses were alright again after a visit to the optician. I mean, normally I might have laughed with them, I CAN laugh about myself, but I felt such a fool!!

Unbelievably my torture wasn't over yet. The boys invited Anne and Carla to their room. I stayed in our room and read "The Thornbirds". I wanted to be Meggie Cleary, even if that meant that I had to live in the Australian desert. At least I would do it with grace.

Out of loneliness I decided to face the enemy and made my way to the boys' room. I arrived at their door and tried to hear what they were doing and saying. Then I could hear Carla's voice. And what I heard was this: "It's on the other side of the tape, guys!!" They had the tape. That tape, with all those terrible and humiliating things I had said that one evening. I couldn't believe it. But I heard them laughing and I knew that it was true. I left. I mean, I left the building and walked through the village. I decided to visit the girls I had met at my skiing course. They were so nice to me, I almost cried. I wanted to go home to my family, be with my friends and forget what had happened. I stayed a few hours before going back. Anne and Carla were still at the boys' room apparently. I went to bed.

Day 5
Next morning: the first thing Carla told me about was how much I had embarrassed myself the previous evening when the boys had heard the tape. Anne looked at her angrily and said: "That is not true, Carla! You embarrassed yourself!" I could have kissed her. Carla seemed to be astonished. I smiled at Anne and forgave her immediately that she was friends with this beast. Maybe Carla did have her nice side….Unfortunately I never got to know it!

The boys, especially Thilo grinned at me. I tried to ignore them despite their comments about gynaecologists and urologists. Only two more days and I would never have to see these people again, I thought.

Arriving at the slopes, I was very happy to see that I still had Patrick as my teacher. And this day was much more fun than the one before. Anne stayed with me and together with Patrick we managed the task of getting me off the lift seat without me falling or losing my skis. I fell only a few times but that was alright since everyone else did so, too. I noticed something that I hadn't noticed all those days, because I didn't give myself a chance: I quite liked skiing and despite being not very athletic, I wasn't too bad at it! Carla had gone with the boys to a really difficult slope. When we returned to the bus that would take us back down to Sölden we learned that Carla had had a "little" accident: a broken ankle after two minutes on the ski run! Later that day it turned out that it wasn't a complicated fracture, but it meant that she had to stay at the hotel the next day!!!

Anne and I had dinner with the girls from my course and we had a great time.

Last day
The last day up on the mountain was fantastic. I don't know why I could ski but I could and it was so much fun! Unfortunately, our Carla had to stay at home, while Mrs Maus invited the rest of us for lunch at the restaurant. I later found out that Mrs Maus had told the boys off because they had got drunk the night before. She said she would never let them come with her on a skiing holiday again! Well, I thought there is justice after all. I knew there was a strict side in this woman!

I said goodbye to my friends from the course and to Patrick who complimented me on my skiing skills! Well, thanks to a very good teacher I'd say! Or to be more precise, thanks to three different teachers in six days!

The last dinner in Sölden was nice. Thilo and the other boys came up to me afterwards and apologised for their behaviour the past few days. I don't know what made them do that. And I didn't care about their apology. These people weren't my friends but they had been close to demolishing all my self-confidence. Okay, I had made a fool of myself but I had done that before and I would probably do it sometime again as well. Nobody's perfect, but at least my character is nothing I have to be ashamed of.

By the way: I haven't been skiing again since then. I prefer throwing snow balls or building snow men instead. Try it, it's fun.