Deustchland, a country that I can claim heritage to... a nation that I called home for the past 359 days. It is a bittersweet emotion that wells up within me as I say goodbye. As I sit on a train bound for Frankfurt, I stare out the window at the countryside rushing past... just as the past year seemed to rush past in my mind. The brown and green squared fields, trimmed with impossibly perfect forests. Perfect blue skies dotted, their white fluffy clouds casting small shadows onto the red-tiled roofs of German villages that barely have names. A scene that I have grown accustomed to, or perhaps I should say a scene I have become so very fond of.