Two weeks into my Oxford adventure and I finally feel like I am settling in a bit here....or at least I've been around long enough to clutter my room anyway :).

Unfortunately I am just beginning to have time to write about any of it. Perhaps that is because within the first three days I was assigned my first 2500 word essay due two days after I would have Internet access on my laptop the following week....this was probably a blessing in disguise at it helped me to avoid talking to much to those I missed and procrastinating with these addictive Internet communication tools.

I feel I must recap as best as possible...mostly for the sake of my own memories since I've already filled everyone else in..


Saturday/ Sunday January 7th/ 8th: The Flight and Arrival

My plane leaves from Cincinnati...finally. After a 30 minute travel to the runway the pilot informs us that there is a mechanical problem with the "extra" power unit or gas tank or something like that. No big deal. We just have to go all the way back to the airport, have some maintenance guys work on it and we'll be off. Very comforting. There's nothing like having a little maintenance work done on the vehicle that's going to take you across the Atlantic in less than 2 hours. After about 30 minutes the voice from the speaker comes on again, this time informing us that its basically just a "paperwork issue". After the necessary papers are filled out we will be off and the problematic part will be fixed in London...but we have very powerful main units that will be getting us there in record time. (Glad to know the bases are covered and the problem will be remedies soon...after the flight)

My seatmate didn't seem to worried about it, so I decided not to be either. He was a quiet gentlemen, probably in his 70's, and who I later discovered was from Afghanistan. He was traveling back home from California- a journey which would take him 3 days by plane total. When I first realized that he would be my partner for the journey, I wondered how he would feel sharing seats with an overloaded, disheveled college student taking her first international flight. I have to say, he handled it well. In fact, as soon as he noticed my 30 lb back pack with the accompaniment laptop case, he insisted on putting it in the overhead compartment for me. There were things I need from the bag, that I of course had forgotten to take out...like my ipod and journal and such. So I scrambled as quickly as possible while he hoisted my luggage above our seats. ( I was relieved to finally sit down but burning up due to the fact that I decided to wear the hoodieAND coat that would not fit in my suitcase) Anyway, I finally settled down.

The flight went smoothly, though I didn't get much sleep because it seemed like they were feeding us every time I turned around. My seatmate was eager to take care of me. For instance, as he noticed the stewardess serving coffee and tea to the seats just before us, he turned and asked if I would like a drink. I told him I was going to take some tea...so he proceeded to get the attention of the stewardess who had not made it to our seat yet (and clearly was going to be at our seat soon) and told her "she needs tea". And of course at the end of our trip he refused to let me get my bags from the overhead....


I had the window seat, which I chose because I love to look out of the window on trips...it was exciting as we were leaving North America over Nova Scotia I could see the what I think was the city Glace Bay based on the map in the plane and what i can remember...it was truly beautiful to see the outline of the land by the the lights...and thinking how small it all really was in comparison to the world....anyway, it was one of those moments you just feel tiny. Another advantage to flying at night is being able to see the stars...the moon was full so the tops of the clouds were really visible too...I hadn't imagined I would be able to see any of that at night.


The thickness and textures and even the color of the clouds seemed to change almost immediately as we reached the edge of Europe. It's as if it just wouldn't be right if England didn't have thick cloudy skies on the day we arrive.


But as we got closer to land I could the the landscape, and even beaches, and it was just breathtaking really. It was very close to what I imagined the English landscape to be....bright green hills everywhere sectioned of in squares by trees and whatnot....lots and lots of fields....that sort of thing. The grass is so much greener here ...really, it is. It must be all the rain.



I was relieved to arrive safely....and then began the journey with my luggage. I knew this was not going to be fun after my carryons started to feel like a ton after carrying them only five minutes or so and then through the insanely long customs line...it went pretty quickly though...up to this point all seemed just average..until the director man told us to "Carry On"....and I realized I must be in England. Hooray...

I suppressed my excitement while the customs man questioned me for admittance into his country. I knew this might be a rough experience when he asked me where I was from and I drew a blank.....America?

(the look on his face told me this was the wrong answer. how did i manage to get this question wrong? looking back, I'm going to blame this on the 3 hours of sleep I had...since it had magically became 9 am when we arrived when my mind was feeling like it was 3 in the morning)

"Where in America?"

"Kentucky" (ha, got it)

his look told me he was going to rephrase this one last time and then I'm out....
"Where are you travelling from?"

oh! Cincinnati. (finally!, though now he knows I'm an American idiot and proceeds to make this process hard on me)

No answer I give suits him pertaining to anything. I explain that I'm here to study political science at Oxford University...when I tell him Regent's Park College he says he had no idea that was even part of it and asks me how it is part of the University- so i ramble out what little i know of the relation and he responds " So is it part of the university or not?"

"Yes"

so he seems satisfied until I tell him that I "might" work here, (you know, i always want to keep my options open right?). Wrong, wrong answer. No one told me not say stupid things like that to the customs guy. after he stops worrying about whether I will or will not work...

He asks how long I will be here. I say 5 months, until June...so he writes down June 16th on my passport, the last day of school given on my entrance letter...and simultaneously asks which day I will leave

"the 19th"

I thought it was the 16th?

oh no...now he has to change that 6 into a 9 on my passport

so then i have to explain that I'm leaving after a ceremony 2 days after school is out...and after much deliberation in his mind over the 9 sufficiently has been created from the number 6...he finally just puts his initials beside it and lets me through..

..i think about apologizing for the awkwardness of this moment and the torment I have put him through...but decided instead to apply the lessons I learned from waitressing.....the chances of seeing him ever again are slim...and of him remembering it are even less...so instead of dwelling on the situation sometimes its better to help people forget it sooner by just moving on without hesitation....

so that is what i did.