by Katie Hyde

Somewhere above the Atlantic ocean, aboard plane amidst a 16 hour flight, seated between her brother and her mom while attempting to sleep, sophomore Annie Keel noticed tears streaming down her cheeks. And her mom’s cheeks. And her brothers’ cheeks.

“Why is it me who has to move across the world?” she thought, as her family members uprooted their lives in Kansas City in the middle of Annie’s eighth grade year and traveled the 7,795 miles from their home to what would be their new home for 18 months in Auckland, New Zealand.

She thought it would be awful.

People told her it would be one of the best experiences of her life, but she didn’t buy it.

Then she exited the plane.

She entered her house, five minutes from the beach.

She soaked in the beauty, “straight out of ‘Lord of the Rings.’”

She ate lunch on the beach nearly every day of summer.

She saw sheep “everywhere.”

She was swarmed by friends who begged to hear her speak because they loved her accent.

She ate meat pies–which are “delicious even though they sound disgusting.”

She made friends from all over the world, with whom she still chats daily on Facebook.

She picked up phrases like “Oi” and “Let’s go hit up the beach, mate. We’ll have a mean as surf.”

She never wanted to leave.

Twelve months later, somewhere above the Atlantic ocean, seated on a plane amidst a 16 hour flight, seated between her brother and her mom while attempting to sleep, Annie noticed the tears streaming down her face.

She thought of the friends she was leaving.

She thought of the life she was leaving.

She thought of the home she was leaving.

“Those were the best 18 months of my life,” she thought.