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ENGLAND
Our final destination is England. This section of Global
Matters is the only one that does not describe experiences
that occurred during spring break of 2006. Instead, these two
pieces were written as an assignment that was part of a course
taught by Ellen Skilton-Sylvester and Tom Hemmeter that asked
students to reflect on their study abroad experiences. The first
is by Kathryn May who spent a year at Oxford University. The
second is by Anh Le who participated in the First Year Study
Abroad Experience [FYSAE] in London during the Fall, 2005
semester and is now back on the Glenside campus for the Spring,
2006 semester. Click on the links below to get to the two
selections.
Rowing for St.
Hilda's
Living in London
Rowing for St. Hilda’s
Kathryn May
Undergraduate Student
We all sat around the tables full of nervous energy.
Carbo-loading was a St. Hilda’s College Boat Club (SHCBC)
tradition the night before the start of every regatta. Pasta,
salad, breads, cakes- it wasn’t so much about the food
(carbo-loading the night before doesn’t really do much) but it
was the camaraderie. We were sitting according to our crews but
the banter and gossip was free flowing between all the tables.
This was especially true of the first and second boats, which
had grown quite close during the term. Our countless
outings and land training sessions, that we had simultaneously,
gave us all that sense of support. Just as you start struggling
on the erg (rowing machine) or when doing planks (an exercise
straight out of our infamous “Abs of Death” routine), there were
always other people there cheering you on and making you push
yourself. Crew dates and other various social nights at a club
or pub only continued to strengthen the bonds that we had, and
this Carbo-loading was no exception.
After the meal, first and
second boat went to the JCR (Junior Common Room) TV room. Our
night of bonding continued as we watched “True Blue” (called
“Miracle at Oxford” in America). The movie chronicles the 1987
Boat Race between Oxford and Cambridge. Oxford struggles through
and triumphantly wins. (I’m not sure what movie the Cambridge
boaties watch!?!) The movie documents the rebellion that was
staged by some top American rowers that had been recruited to
help Oxford win the race after their defeat the year before.
Needless to say the movie isn’t too favorable in its portrayal
of Americans and Oxford successfully wins without them.
About two-thirds of the way
through the movie Morven, SHCBC president, said, “Guys, you
know, this movie is pretty negative towards Americans.”
People agreed and we
continued to watch the movie. A few more minutes pass and Morven
exclaims, “Hey, Kathryn is American!”
It was then that I knew I had
done what I wanted to do. I had become more than just a tourist
in another country for a few months. Rowing was part of what
made me feel most at home in England. I was the only American
who rowed for Hilda’s and it was through rowing that I developed
a network of people and a sense of belonging. It was moments
like the one just described and moments when the other boaties
(as we affectionately called each other) would ask me what
position on the committee I was running for next year, moments
that seem so trivial compared to my entire experience, that
meant the most to me. There were days when they forgot that I
was only there for a year and I honestly appreciated that. It
was as if they thought of me as one of them and not just an
American JYA (junior year abroad) faking it at Oxford for the
year (however true that might have been).
They took me in and let me
become part of a huge tradition at Oxford. Not only was I a part
of Hilda’s Boatclub but I was a part of the rowing community at
Oxford. I attended crew dates with other colleges’ crews, spent
countless hours at the boathouse which we shared with six other
colleges, and had an automatic connection with other students
walking around the city who were wearing their respective
college’s splashtops (rowing jackets). Throughout Oxford there
was always a familiar face, who I might not have always known by
name but could quite easily smile at and ask how the other was
doing.
These people did, and still
do mean the world to me. My year would have been nothing without
rowing. It would no doubt have been less busy, but I would have
missed out on meeting some of the most amazing people that I
have ever met. They were my support when I was alone in another
country. And to be perfectly honest with you, last year was one
of the few, if not the only time in my life when I felt like I
truly fit in, like I belonged.
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Living in London
Anh Le
Undergraduate
Student
The sweet scent of daybreak in a foreign country, I
couldn’t be sure that it was indeed cleaner than America but it
carried with it a feeling of escape, of the willingness to take
on new experiences, of a new identity for the 16 weeks that I
resided in London. I had officially moved into my new home, and
the view from my window was no longer the second story view of
my lawn and the street, but it became the fourth story view of
the beautiful sunrise at dawn every morning, the dreamy sunset
every night, a little round, red mailbox, and another apartment
complex across the street.
I had never left the States before and traveling 3000
miles from home to reach a completely strange land was unheard
of and unimaginable until I was accepted into the FYSAE [First
Year Study Abroad Experience] program. Actually, it didn’t
really hit me until I almost smashed into a car that I was
indeed in a new country with cars driving on the opposite side
of the road and painted instructions on the ground that told
tourists (like myself) where to look before crossing the street.
I was overwhelmed with feelings of absolute independence,
homesickness, but above all, I was rapturous with the beginning
of an exciting new chapter in my life.
London
was an extremely expeditious city in which no time was wasted.
If there was enough room for an arm and a leg on the tube,
people were sure to squeeze through or risk their life to jump
in, seconds before the tube left the platform. After a long day
of classes at City University, the tube ride home was my resting
ground. As soon as I procured a seat on the Central Line tube
towards Notting Hill Gate, my mind often wandered into space and
occasionally, I would close my eyes for a short catnap before
the slowing of the tube passing through Queensway alerted me of
the approaching destination.
However, the walk from the tube station to Palace Court
never seemed longer than the days when I had just returned from
a weekend trip. Specifically in Bath, we had stayed at a falsely
advertised hostel and my particular bed had a homeless man
sleeping in it upon my arrival. After days of fatigued touring
and uneasy sleep, I was never more contented in my life to
return home. Home, at the time, referred to my attic room in
Palace Court and no longer the home with the loving family I
have waiting in the States.
Memories of London still linger in my head today like a
fervent dream, recurring unexpectedly, but ever so desired.
Every commercial, every British accent, every relation to London
makes my heart skip a beat. I have grown so emotionally attached
to this incredible city that riding a regular bus here will
never compare to the signature Double Decker of London and every
aspect of my life can somehow relate back to the best 4 months
of my life.
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