As some of you may know, I turned 20 in September. Yes, it’s true – I have been on this world for two full decades, and it feels like a lifetime (though that’s probably because to me it actually is). It’s now been five months since that dreadful day, and I have found that 20 is probably the most confusing age to be. Am I a responsible adult? Am I an impulsive teenager? WHO KNOWS, NOT ME.
Last Friday I visited the Archéosite d’Aubéchies, an experimental archaeology site where they rebuilt homes and objects from the bronze age up until the Gallo-Roman one, using mostly the same techniques as people used back then. We hadn’t even entered the site when our teacher told us that there were many parks like this, but not all had the same scientific value. With a hint of disapproval in her voice, she told us that many were more like amusement parks, focusing solely on the entertainment of visitors by history and not really on the actual historical aspects of the projects. I don’t believe that is something to disapprove of.
We’re two weeks into October, and I’ve already seen at least three people wearing Christmas sweaters. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all into some Christmas spirit, but it seems to me that those people are forgetting something even more amazing: Halloween. My favourite holiday of the year. Why, you ask? It’s simple.
People are always really surprised at my ability to approach complete strangers and talk to them. “I’d never have done that,” they tell me. My standard response is that in a situation where a group of people go and do something for the first time, like the start of school or the first of a series of sports classes, everyone is scared to talk to each other, yet everyone wishes someone did. So I do. “But that’s easy for you to say,” they’ll tell me, “you’re extraverted.” Well, my friends, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not easy for anyone.