Study Abroad: Snapshots in Time
January
Two weeks into my semester in Oxford, I鈥檓 attending my first hall dinner. Candles light the room-length dining tables, and the three-course menu is printed on what seems to be parchment. The waiters are all in tuxedos. I鈥檝e never attended such a formal event before. Everyone suddenly stands, and I scramble to my feet just a second behind them, and watch robed masters stride into the hall, up to the high table. One of them says something in Latin, and strikes a gong. We resume our seats. Am I at Hogwarts?
February
I鈥檓 at an individual tutorial, and my professor asks me to read aloud. I鈥檝e always hated the sound of my voice, but I comply, and my words reverberate in the stone office. This actually isn鈥檛 so bad. My words are powerful, important. I should do this more often.
March
I鈥檓 at a house party with English friends, when I realize that I know everyone here: I鈥檓 part of this social group. These are my friends. I almost start crying but then decide that I鈥檇 rather dance instead.
April
It鈥檚 Easter Break, and I鈥檓 in Edinburgh. I鈥檝e checked into my first backpacker hostel, and spent the day hiking up to Arthur鈥檚 Seat, but it鈥檚 night now and freezing. My companion tells me that Scotch comes from Scotland (who knew?). We duck into a tiny two-room pub and order thimble-size shots of all the available types. The scotch is fiery in my throat. The room spins, and I laugh at the impossibility of it all: I grew up in Nepal, far far away, and now I鈥檓 on an island from my storybooks, my history, on an adventure I never dreamed I鈥檇 be a part of.
May
It鈥檚 an unusually warm day, and I鈥檓 reading Victorian literature in a thirteenth century castle courtyard. I lie back and listen to a nearby fountain, watch a hawk trace circles in the sky. I feel quite at home here.
June
It鈥檚 my last evening in London. I鈥檇 spent my first few days in England here at an IFSA-Butler orientation, and the city still reminds me of that initial excitement. I had walked aimlessly then, and I walk so now, along the Thames, past the London Eye and the Waterloo Bridge, all the way to Shakespeare鈥檚 Globe Theatre, where I cross the Millennium Bridge and still keep walking. It gets dark and the night is cool, and I silently say goodbye.
Shristi U. | Anthropology and Creative Writing double major | Franklin & Marshall College | University of Oxford, St. Catherine鈥檚 College Partnership in Oxford, England | Spring 2016 | IFSA International Correspondent