How I've Changed

In the nearly three months since my return from Scotland, I've found readjusting to be harder than adjusting in the first place. I miss everything, achingly so. That's not to say I miss the days of homesickness, or the days I would do nothing but watch Netflix, or the days of loneliness or alienation. But in my hindsight view of my exchange, none of the mediocre or sad times even exist anymore. I have erased them, because I don't need them. The things I miss are having a tight knit group to do everything with. I miss having a family that experienced the same things for the first time, all together. I miss adventure, and not caring about a crappy day because it all adds to the story in the end.

I keep in touch with my friends by Facebook, Snapchat and WhatsApp. It's crossed my mind that maybe this is why I struggle moving back to my old world - I keep trying to stay in Glasgow, from over 5000 km away. I would never give up being able to send a silly Snap to the best friends I may never see again.

Recently I went to the pre-departure workshop for next years' exchange students. Students who are anxious, wide-eyed and eager to start their own adventure. I remembered my workshop being loud and overwhelming and giving me a great deal of stress over whether I was making the right decision to uproot myself. Besides advice on where to buy cheap shampoo, whether the housing packages from GCU are worth it or not, and how to get from the airport to the school, there are a list of things I learned from my exchange that I though was important to relay. Most of these lessons are brand-new, and I still struggle to remember them now that I'm not living an adventure anymore. I learned a lot about myself, and about what I'm capable of that I wouldn't have learned at home.

I'm not afraid to be alone. As a people person, I've always needed other people around me. I've been dependent on other people around me to give me courage and comfort. In the first weeks of my living in Glasgow, I would have passed up an opportunity just because I didn't have anyone to go with (because friends don't materialize on their own). I missed days of adventure because I didn't think I could have an adventure by myself. In the final two weeks of my stay, I had yet to see London. I would be devastated if I returned from the UK without ever seeing the big city. Two days from the first time the thought crossed my mind, I had booked a flight and arranged to stay with family friends outside London. I travelled solo by bus, plane, and train to stay with a family I had never met for three nights. I learned the city bus, train, and tube alone simply by doing it. I went to exhibits and museums and a theatre show completely autonomously, and I enjoyed all of it. Before my semester abroad, I never would have thought myself capable of travelling alone.

I can find pleasure in a bad situation. I learned this when my flatmate Holly and I planned our day trip to Loch Lomond. The morning of it was drizzling, cloudy and cold. We got as far as the Glasgow train station (to take us to Balloch) when I confessed that I wasn't sure I wanted to go today, not in this weather. Holly taught me the lesson to let others push your boundaries. She insisted, and I conceded, and we had a marvelous adventure on the banks and hills in the national park. Not only did we push on through the wet fog, we were laughing about it together, at the time and continue to do so as we enjoy the memory.

The authority to handle a problem. GCU is a mess of administrational hiccups. I first encountered the Scottish attitude of "it'll work itself out" weeks before I left Canada, when I was waiting frantically for confirmation of residence placement. Once I had settled residency and arrived, I was faced with registration problems. After two weeks of battling to clear up my registration (alone in a foreign country), I was misplaced and overlooked in my classes. The fire alarm in my residence went haywire, whining for three consecutive days and nights. I chased down administrators and professors, sat in meetings and wrote a million emails. I teamed up with Holly to get the attention of someone, anyone who would listen to our fire alarm torture without laughing and walking away. I learned to be an independent problem-solver because I had to, or the whole thing was a bust.

The confidence to step out of my comfort zone. Being far away from home with no one tying you to presuppositions of who you are lets you explore who you could be. It is a fearful thing, to be cast into solitude amidst a massive city bustling with life. The best way I found to make use of the daunting situation was to throw myself into it. I used to be a relatively conservative partier - drinks on the weekends, usually leaving the bar before the taxi wars broke out. I learned to negotiate the self I thought I was with the self I was now allowed to be. I went to dinner with people I didn't know, and we became best friends. I invited myself to a flat party on Facebook, and the people in that flat became my family. I tagged along to a sidestreet club and discovered a nightlife way better than the promotional student clubs whose flyers littered our residence. I learned that I liked being someone I didn't think I was. I'm currently in the process of introducing that person to this life.

Don't let small excuses change your big ideas. If you want to hike in Scotland, hike in the rain or don't hike at all. It would be folly to visit Scotland with no intention to spend a day roaming the beauty. It would be  disappointing to let the person you believe yourself to be, suppress the person who can emerge in a time of change. It would be tragic to let anxiety stop you from going after a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and irresponsible to let a botched communication destroy the validity of your exchange experience. When it comes down to it, all excuses are too small against something magnificent that you really want.

If any student at Brock has the means and the opportunity to step away from Canada, I don't think there is a good enough reason not to go abroad. Even if you think it's not for you or you won't love it - you will.

Check-up

I never appreciated how wonderful Brock is until I had the chance to step away from home. At the opportunity to fly across the ocean and settle into a new city, school, and world for four full months, I barely hesitated to jump through the necessary hoops. It's been about six or seven weeks since my arrival in Glasgow, and adjusting has been slower going than I had imagined.

I thought of writing this post this morning, when a professor of mine asked me how I'm finding Scotland, etc, and he asked me what the biggest difference between here and home is to me. I didn't have a proper answer for him, and so I think I came off a bit unobservant or non-participatory in some way, as if I haven't noticed any difference at all. But truthfully, I had to take a moment to think of a real answer to the question.
There are many differences, and many similarities. But to answer my prof's question, I think optimism is the biggest cultural difference. Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about - but the Scots seems  a perpetually positive people. Aside from shop clerks and baristas, who are consistently upbeat, the people on the street and in the university offices have the same positive attitude. Nothing seems to be worth stressing over - to some frustration on my end, when half the printers on campus are out of order and nobody seems bothered about rushing to fix them.
I was delightfully surprised when, by another spectacular failure on GCU's part I was overlooked when placing  students into workshop groups and am now four weeks behind on coursework. I went to meet with my program advisor, who went over the module expectations with me and said to just show up to the next class. Now, I am a chronic worrier and automatically spin into panic mode when everything isn't sunshine and rainbows, so I asked him outright: is this going to be a problem that I should be worried about?
He laughed. No, he chuckled with glee or something wonderful like that, and said "Nah man, it's cool!"

So I suppose to answer the question, the biggest difference to me has been attitude. People seem happier when everything isn't dependent on perfection all the time and place faith that the problems will get resolved in their own time. My frustration with GCU's administration, while justified by my organized, anti-chaos Canadian culture is actually standard procedure when you take the approach that everything will work itself out. I'll try to get used to it. But it is difficult when half the facilities on campus are broken and not fixed for weeks on end, or when the fire alarm in my building is broken and it's a long weekend, so the squealing goes on for three days before someone is reminded to fix it.

I have been getting annoyed with a lot of the workings of GCU, and most of the time try to chalk it up to the cultural difference instead of getting upset. I will pose a question and for whatever reason, it rarely gets understood correctly and the respondent will spend an unnecessary length of time explaining something to me that is irrelevant. For example, when I asked my seminar leader about how exactly to begin my essay, he proceeded to explain the importance of title pages, paragraphs, citations, etc. as if I have never written a university paper ever before. When I emailed another lecturer about the same topic, asking the same question, he rudely responded that it was inappropriate to ask for help over email and to discuss my problem in seminar. Maybe it's just me that found his response impolite and brash, but I am still quite put out about it. No matter how many times I've sought out help on my own, nobody seems to be able to give me the guidance I'm looking for. It makes my anxiety about succeeding in classes worsen, and a lot of the time I feel like I'm just on my own to figure it out. The program leaders are adamant about being available for anyone with questions, but at the moment their help seems useless to me.

Another note about my exchange: the classes offered at GCU are unlike any classes I've ever seen at Brock. I'm taking Creative Advertising in which we are given a brief each week and must pitch ideas to our professor, which is so stimulating and creative in a way unlike anything I've done at Brock. I'm also taking Radio Production in which we write and produce a full-length radio episode.These opportunities aren't available for credit at Brock in my experience. The opportunity to explore and exercise these tasks and skills is worth the cultural frustrations... so far!

Weekend Getaway: Paris, France

I never thought Paris would be somewhere I would ever visit in my life. I guess I never thought of myself as someone who was particularly drawn to the city. But since I'm already this far, and the flight was only £30 round trip, I decided to go with Taylor, Shayna, and Holly this weekend. I fell in love after the two days we spent there. After we'd booked our flight and hostel, we discovered that we'd chosen the best weekend possible to travel to the city of light. The city opens its doors free of charge on the first Sunday of every month, so we figured that we can do most of our desired sightseeing on the Sunday of our trip. On top of that, we figured out that the Saturday night was the famous Nuit Blanche, where the city becomes one big party all night long, full of art and music all free of charge. Lucky for us, our hostel had no curfew so we were free to experience Nuit Blanche in Paris - amazing.

First things first, we boarded a bus in Glasgow on Friday morning to take us the hour-long trip to Glasgow Prestwick airport, one of the smaller international airports that RyanAir operates out of. That trip was about £5 each and a good hour or so on the top of a double decker bus. Once we arrived at the airport, our relationship with Ryanair began. We had our visas checked and went through the security check, and were spit out into the single waiting area that Prestwick had for all of its gates. We finally walked the tarmac and boarded our plane, where they told us that the aircraft was experiencing a technical difficulty and would have to be assessed by an engineer. The man sitting next to me and Taylor confessed to us that he was an aircraft engineer for British Airways - bad luck. After about a half hour they finally deboarded us (as Holly had predicted they would) and put us in yet another queue (the British are huge fans of long, non-moving lines apparently) to wait for another craft to be ready for us. So our takeoff was just under an hour later than scheduled, but none of us were bothered much - after all, we were on vacation!

The airport we landed at was also about an hour out of the city, so we boarded a shuttle for €16 that took us into Port Maillot on the North end of Paris. After we got off the bus we made a beeline for the street map of the city, and had not gotten any farther than figuring out where we actually were than a French man with his family stopped and asked us where we were headed. We weren't actually sure, so he looked up our hostel on his iPhone for us and showed us the mapped route to there. When we determined that it wasn't possible to walk, he told us how to take the metro all the way to our hostel. So our first Parisian friend was a godsend! We took a €1,70 metro adventure and came out at the Republique square under the Fontaine du Roi, just a block or two from the Hostel Absolute Paris. The city was vibrant and alive, buzzing with young people and filled with streetside cafes and open front bars. We found the hostel easily and checked in for two nights, totalling €63 each. We had booked a four-bed dorm room, so we were able to get the whole room to ourselves. We dropped our backpacks and headed out into the street, stopped at an open front cafe on the corner of the Republique and ordered a bottle of Chardonnay, crepes, cheese, and baguettes. We went to bed shortly after to rest up for our first day attempting to tour the massive city.

Paris at night

Paris in the morning

At 9 am we got our free breakfast of croissant, milk and cereal, coffee, hot chocolate and baguette with butter and jam. We mapped our way to the first bus stop of the day with full bellies free of charge. We had pre-ordered tickets on the Hop-On-Hop-Off tour of Paris, which let us get on any tour bus we wanted and take them all over the city at our own pace. We did a drive-by of the old Moulin Rouge building, and got off at the Gare du Nord train station. We explored a little bit of that area and walked to Gard du l'Est, hopped back on the bus and took it to Notre Dame.

Notre Dame Cathedral

I am officially a cathedra-phile (?)... Even now when I look through my photos of Notre Dame (and my past visits to Barcelona's the Sagrada Famiglia and the Glasgow Cathedral) they give me some sense of peacefulness that doesn't come with my other photos. Notre Dame was breathtaking both inside and outside. Though it was brimming with tourists, it was peaceful, serene, and respectful the entire time we were visiting. From Notre Dame we took a bus past the Hotel de Ville, and stopped at the Hotel des Invalides and the Musee de l'Armee. We couldn't go inside due to a wedding ceremony happening at the time, but we enjoyed to architecture and the cobblestone, and of course the gardens with their aged cannons bordering the property. 

Hotel de Ville

From the garden we could see the Eiffel tower, and decided to hoof it rather than wait for the next bus to come along. Along the way we stopped at four or five different souvenir shops all toting the same kinds of trinkets - Eiffel tower keychains, postcards, novelty berets, snowglobes and the like - until we finally reached the base of the legendary structure.














We had the fortunate timing to arrive just before dusk. We learned that at nightfall, the tower lights up in a glittering light show for five minutes every hour. After taking our requisite Eiffel tower photos, we ran along to find a little market where we bought a couple bottles of wine for €2 each and a souvenir Paris corkscrew, and hurried back to the other side of the tower before it got dark. We settled ourselves on the grass at the bottom of the tower, opened our wine and enjoyed the show. I took a video, if you'd like to see it: Eiffel Tower Light Show



We missed the last bus home, so we took another adventure on the metro back to Republique where Nuit Blanche was in full swing. We were exhausted, but didn't want to miss out, so we got some falafels and went to the square where there was live music and mist machines making the entire square of fog.

Day two was simiilar to the first, with different sights to see. Fuelled by our hostel breakfast, we started out with the Louvre. Since it was open-doors day, the lineup was a three and a half hour wait. When we considered all the things we could see in do in that amount of time, we decided to cross the Sienne at Pont des Arts and continue on. Pont des Arts was my favourite part of the day. One of the many bridges crossing the Sienne, this one carries a Parisian tradition of love-locks. Couples would lock a padlock to the bridge and throw the key in the river to symbolize their never-ending bond. Of course all along the bridge vendors sold padlocks, but there were a couple of oil painters and one accordion player as well.
We also hit the Musee d'Orsay, the Musee de Rodin, and the Cimetiere du Montparnasse, burial place of Baudelaire (I wanted to make it to Pere Lachaise and see Oscar Wild's gravestone, but it was too far away), before making our way again by the metro to Port Maillot. We had enough spare time to treat ourselves to a real French experience, and got a table on the street of a cafe. Ordering a bottle of red wine and dinner, we toasted to our successful weekend vacation to Paris.

If you've beared with this post this far, I'm impressed, and thank you! By clicking on the link at the top right of the page, in the column next to this post, you can browse my most recent pictures of my trip to Paris.

Ceilidh at GCU

There was an event held tonight for international students at GCU, so Taylor, Shayna, Holly, and our flatmates Gabi, Antje, Raul and Andres went to investigate the "free dinner" we had heard about. The event only cost us £3 each, and upon our arrival we were greeted by an open bar serving wine and juice. The evening began with us finding some seats, having a drink, and then being taught a "traditional" Scottish dance. After the instructions for the dance were given to whoever wanted to try learning, an accordion and drum kit would play recognizable songs like "Loch Lomond," "My Bonnie," and some of the Braveheart theme. That pretty much sums up the evening, a great price and an opportunity to get to know other international students - some even chose to dress in their country's traditional wear: kimonos, saris, etc... it was very cool. For such little money we were given a place to meet each other and get to know one another, as well as something to learn all together (the ceilidh dances are apparently super participatory, with tons of jumping and skipping and things). But I have to say the best deal was definitely the free wine, dinner, and desserts. For dinner we were served burgers with a side of haggis, neeps & tatties. The open bar also offered plates of chocolate coconut bars and some maple fudge - after my own heart.

Classes have been on for only two weeks now and I haven't put more than two hours into one. The process of organizing a timetable seems almost impossible, and the communication at GCU seems to be one of their top struggles. So I've gotten frustrated with the administration several times now, which is making me a little more tense about our trip to Paris tomorrow. Also, trying to tailor my plans to accommodate the exchange rate that brought all my savings from both summer jobs to less than the value of my one semester at Brock - even though Glasgow is a pretty cheap place to live, everywhere in the UK is more expensive than Canada.


So, this Paris trip is going to have to be creatively tailored to a low-budget tour. We luckily planned our trip on the first weekend of the month, the Sunday of which is apparently a free-entry day to many of the most popular sites in Paris. Some Googling will find us other attractions in the city that won't cost us a thing, and we've got a kitchenette in our hostel (so I'm told - we'll see).

The Walkabout

Our student bar is off-campus, at a place called The Walkabout. Well, our student union is above the Walkabout... but the most amazing miracle happens in Scotland, where a pint of beer is only £2 and on top of that, we get a student discount with our GCU ID cards. This country is... magical. The Walkabout is actually a chain of Australian-themed pubs, and the main attraction on the menu is kangaroo meat. They serve kangaroo skewers, steaks, burgers, sandwiches ("sarnies") and salads. We decided that we all wanted to give a new food a shot and since last night was the first night before our classes begin (mine starts in... 30 mins now) we'd go out to dinner. I ordered an arugula salad topped with kangaroo fillet. 

Now, let me tell you this: kangaroo tastes exactly like steak. If I didn't know it was kangaroo, I wouldn't know the difference. Jared got an actual steak, and Ian go a 'roo burger which is definitely next on my list. Just enjoying the fillet on my salad - warm, juicy, tender - I could imagine it as a fantastic burger. 

So, classes start today and my schedule is excellent. We only have to take three classes to equal a full courseload (five classes) at Brock, so it already seems like a treat. On top of that, I've only got class Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, which gives me a four day weekend to explore the country! On Saturday, a group of us are going up to Loch Ness for the day, and I hope to either revisit Edinburgh or make a trip to Stirling and Falkirk in the next couple of weeks. 

I've come down with a wicked cold, and been trying to fight it off desperately. I've been drinking hot lemon water with honey and cayenne pepper - sort of a cleansing potion - and trying to sleep lots. It's day two of the wicked cold, and it hit me like a ton of bricks yesterday. I am a bit of a wimp when it comes to being sick, but this is something else.

Edinburgh Castle

Almost a week ago now - wow, time really picked up its pace - Taylor and I hopped on a bus to Edinburgh for the day. Unfortunately, we did so without realizing there was a free bus to Loch Lomond with the other GCU international students, so we missed out on that trip. But we had planned to meet up with Brittany doing an exchange in Edinburgh, but she was occupied on her own school trip. So we walked up "The Mound" to the Edinburgh castle. I love the lingo here in the UK, everything is so literal! Instead of exit, most places have signage pointing the "Way Out," and this massive uphill road is called the Mound. That's it, just the mound. I wore my rainboots because the morning in Glasgow was cold and wet, but I have to say something about the weather in this country.

Scotland is the most temperamental weather I have experienced - ever. I can wake up to sunny blue skies and by the time I get dressed, go out into a torrential downpour, and have the day switch back and forth between the two every twenty minutes. Anyway, I wore rubber boots and regretted in all day long.

Taylor and her coffee climbing the mound.

The city of Edinburgh is gorgeous - cobblestone and beautiful architecture. Around the castle is a little kitschy, but as a tourist I definitely loved it. The castle entrance was a loooong line, about an hour behind an unfortunately ignorant old man from New Jersey who insisted we were wrong in our interpretation of our own country. Painful.

The castle was beautifully preserved. Its walls were aged and crumbling, but each of the houses, rooms, and towers had be restored to exhibits. We saw the crown jewels of Scotland: the crown, sceptre and sword passed through the royal lineage. We saw the old prisons that had been restored to exhibit their original medeival conditions, and walked through the Edinburgh war museum. It's amazing how much deeper Scotland's history goes than Canada's.

In the World Wars memorial, we were able to leaf through military and navy records of Scotland. I found several Littles in the books - which wars they fought in, where and when they fell, and what rank they each were.








After the castle, we were very hungry! Taylor's friend Adam actually lives in Edinburgh, and he met up with us. I asked him where the best pub was and... he said they're all pretty much the same which was a disappointing answer. So we went into the first one, where I had an underwhelming lager and a fish and chips that didn't quite live up to the one I had at the Atholl Arms in Glasgow - but! Adam ordered haggis so that we could try some, and it was delicious!!! We called it a day and got back on the bus to Glasgow - only about an hour and twenty minutes each way, about £10 round trip 

Hey Badgers!

First Night Out

Okay, maybe a little late, but I'm finally going to tell you about my first experience of the Glasgow nightlife. Well - sort of. It's "Fresher's Week" here at GCU, so many of the clubs are doing events for first year students, which may not be the best representation of the actual experience. Regardless, I went out.
It was at a club just around a few corners from the university called Kushion - very hip, I know. The event actually had a bus shuttling people from the residence to the club, so we got on board and were given a set of markers and each of us received a white T-shirt to wear. After we spent the bus ride marking up each others' shirts, we arrived at Kushion.
It was a lower-level bar, below the street. Entry was free to people wearing the event shirts, and we pretty soon found out that shots were £1 each, and Heineken was £1.50 per can until midnight... at which point it became £2 - big deal. So apparently they make drinking easy for students. There was a woman doing neon facepaints for free, so Holly, Taylor and myself lined up and each got a different design. 

We found some friends from Caledonian court and danced with them. There were neon balloons all over the floor to kick around. Plenty of people from all over the world, like a couple of people from Paris that we chatted with, and of course the Scots. Holly and I have pretty much got our introductions down pat: She's American, I'm Canadian, yes we live together, yes we're 22 and 23, Holly's older, yes there is a lot of snow in Canada, yes it is warm in California... etc. I love the hilarious questions about home that I get asked - I love telling people about where I come from and why I love it so much!

About now is where the newness stopped and the club became just like the ones back home: smoke machine, DJ, blacklights, blah blah blah. When the three of us decided to call it a night, we just walked the short distance back to the residence with Lee and Fulvia, and ta-da. First night clubbing in Glasgow.

Taylor, Me, and Holly

Me and Taylor!

Myself, Taylor, Holly, Naomi, Lee, and Seamus

Welcome To Glasgow

It's been four days since my arrival and it's going pretty much as I imagined it would. I miss home, I miss Jarrett, but I talk to my friends and family every day. Last night Jarrett and I watched The Empire Strikes Back while messaging each other - as close as we can get to watching a movie together over the ocean. Besides trying to stay in touch, I've been going into the city every day.

Buchanan Square and Sauchiehall Street is pretty much what we've explored so far. It's beautiful and busy, with people and shops and street performers all day long.

Street piper on Sauchiehall street.

It gets even more beautiful at night when the shops are closed and the streets are lit up. The strip is all walkway - only interrupted by traffic every now and then, which most of the pedestrians seem to take on at their own risk. I'm learning the colloquial rules of streetcrossing: cross whenever you want, make sure there's nobody coming in a massive double decker bus to mow you down. The streets are busy all day long, so crowded you can barely move around but maintains a good traffic flow regardless. In the evening, shops all seems to close around 8pm and the people disappear, leaving a few bar crawlers, street musicians, grocery shoppers, and the homeless on the barren stone pathways. I had my first late-night venture to McDonald's with Holly last night, after we enjoyed some of the case of beer we split on. I can't seem to wrap my head around buying alcohol from the grocery store, much less find grocery store brand gin, vodka, etc. We were amazed to find a pack of 20 bottles of Stella for only £12 - about $19 CAD. Turns out, the McDonalds here is just as satisfying as back home.  

The view from Buchanan Square.

The shopping is great. Topshop, Forever21, HMV, H&M, NewLook, Boots, and of course places I have yet to discover. I came equipped with rainboots and a rain jacket but found the rain on a bit of a holiday this week. So I went to the biggest Forever21 I have ever seen - 3 stories - and bought a £15 leather quilted bomber jacket that has been my go-to since.

Taylor and I are hoping to go to Edinburgh to visit Brittany this weekend and plan our first real travel excursion. I really hope to go to Ireland, England, France, and of course explore Scotland while I'm here. 

Organizing Myself

Waking up the morning after my arrival was a welcome calm. After a good long sleep, I felt better equipped to take on the tasks I need to accomplish. I woke up at 12pm local time, however, so by the time I got to the registration desk to get my login information, the lineup was long, hot, and slow. After about an hour I got to speak to someone who reset my login and password, finally giving me access to internet in my dorm (or "flat" as it will be called from hereon). My flatmate Holly and I then ventured out to the city center, where we found "PoundLand" (essentially a Dollarama) and Argo's, where I bought some towels for a much needed shower and a new set of bedding to replace the disappointing package I was given by GCU. After setting up my new digs, I finally managed to get a call in to my mom and Jarrett. I then spent the evening walking around the city with Taylor, looking for a grocery store so I could finally have something to eat! Surprise - in Scotland, you can buy wine and beer in the grocery store! I decided against Coors Light or Budweiser, and they didn't have my beloved Moosehead (no surprise there), so I went with a six pack of Foster's Gold which I shared with Holly and Taylor back in my room. It was nice to be hanging out like normal with new friends after the unpleasant day I'd had before. I still had some trouble falling asleep after my quick video call with Jarrett after his 8pm class, for which I was up at 1am. I read some of my book and forced myself to at least try to sleep... and slept until noon again today.

My second attempt at registration was an equal failure, though I did meet a nice Glaswegian boy named Liam who asked me if everyone in Toronto was barefoot - a bizarre question. Still unable to register - and still a problem on GCU's end. So I have to wait to hear from them once they've got their problem fixed, to go stand in line again and hopefully manage to finally get a student card. Holly, Taylor and I decided today to get some important things done: I got a cheap little pay-as-you-go mobile phone, and tried to get myself a bank account but was told to come back in a week. The city is beautiful - huge strips of shops and gigantic walkways. I'm learning the rules of the city: when unsure of which way to look when crossing the street, just wait fr everyone else to cross. Also, apparently the "walk/don't walk" signs are more of a suggestion.

I'm finding myself a little shy to speak in the shops, or to ask questions, since I'm an obvious foreigner/tourist by the sound of my accent. The Glaswegian accent isn't as difficult to understand as I had expected although I have needed to ask a few people to repeat themselves. Phrasing has been more of an issue - "all right?" is more a greeting than a question, and it caught me off guard when I answered yes, I'm fine. Without trying, I've already started using terms I haven't used before, such as "dodgy" and "posh" that I've heard the Scots using.

As I'm settling in, I haven't been too social. I've made a couple of friends, and a few more acquaintances, but mostly I find myself exhausted every evening and just want to be alone to watch a movie in my room. Part of me is concerned that hermitting myself away in my room defeats the purpose of going away, but most of me feels that it's important to feel settled and comfortable before starting to really get out there. Maybe I'm just rationalizing my anxiety to myself, but I don't feel ready to go to clubs with a group of near strangers quite yet.

After a great day yesterday and a productive one today, I was feeling a little homesick this evening. I was really missing Jarrett, missing the comfort of just hanging out with someone I know so well and don't have to make an effort to make conversation with. My experience the last two days have been similar to how I felt in my first year at Brock: wanting to be happy and settled right away, and being upset that it's taking so much energy to get there. Brittany and Taylor and I are starting to plan our first trip, with flights to Dublin as cheap as £15 it might be to Ireland, or maybe Italy before the weather gets too cold. I can't wait to start travelling out of the city and creating memories.

My Arrival

Leaving Toronto was a blur, to be honest. I met a girl my age who was taking the same connection to Glasgow, headed off to arts school for a three year degree in sculpting. We got along really well, right up until we exchanged Facebook info and she took off in Glasgow. I stayed to wait for Taylor (also from Brock) to arrive so that we could head to GCU together, but after all the sleep deprivation and ibuprofen it didn’t occur to me that Taylor was arriving from the UK - not from an international flight - and I ended up waiting at arrivals for an hour and a half before giving up and getting into a taxi on my own.

The taxi to GCU was about £25, a small price to pay to not have to find my own way by bus. Upon arriving, I had been told to register at the student center and get my keys. When I arrived there, 40 kg of luggage in tow, I was told that no, I must go across the street to the residence.

I am becoming increasingly frustrated with the poor communication of the university. I had to ask twice for affirmation of residence placement, and only upon my second request did I get a notice that I had been assigned a room. Also, apparently the students arriving had already registered for classes and been assigned a student ID, login and password in an email from the university - an email I never received. Since I arrived on a Sunday, I have to wait until 11am tomorrow both to be granted access to the internet (thus the late post) and to speak to someone and hope against hope that I can be registered in the classes I’ve been approved for from Brock.

I had requested a bedding and kitchen package so that I didn’t have to worry about these things on the day of my arrival before I could get in some sleep. The bedding I was given is thinner than paper, and both looks and feels like a hospital gown. The pillow is very similar to the one I was given on my economy class flight. The residence is less than impressive, and many of the students I’ve met agree, telling me stories of filthy carpets, walls and kitchens upon their arrival. After all of this and no sleep, my anxiety washed over me and I was basically incapacited for the afternoon, until I was able to fall asleep for a couple of hours. When I woke up, my next door flatmate, Holly from California, was exactly the kind of person I needed. She told me about her first night, and brought me along to a get together with some friends she’d made. After my nap and some friendly interaction, I decided early to bed was my best bet for having a better day tomorrow. To prepare, I’ve made a list of things I want to buy, and Holly told me where the dollar store, or the “PoundLand” is.

The hardest parts have been running on such little sleep (about an hour on the flight from Reykjavik to Glasgow) and not having any access to the internet to contact Jarrett or my family. My three Spanish roommates have let me get onto their laptops to at least let them know that I won’t be in contact until tomorrow. I think, after a good sleep and something substantial to eat in the morning (where I’ll find that, I don’t know yet), I’ll be better equipped to settle myself into GCU.

Saying Goodbye

My family is supportive of me, all the time, no matter what. Since I mentioned I was thinking of doing a semester abroad, my parents have encouraged every step to took to get me here. Now I'm sitting at my gate in the Toronto airport, watching luggage being trucked on board - knowing mine is in there somewhere (at least, hoping it is!) My brother postponed his moving to Waterloo until tomorrow, and my sister took the weekend off work to be able to get together for my departure. Jarrett and I spent Wednesday together, both of us deciding we'd rather say goodbye then than drag it out the rest of the week and make my airport drop-off even more wrenching. The five of us went to Canyon Creek for dinner near the airport, before parking (!) and walking into the terminal with me. Hugs were given and pictures were taken, but I found it difficult to spend a lot of time saying goodbye. As my anxiety began to creep up, I had to spin on my heels and walk through the security line with my family waving goodbye on the other side. 

I've never flown by myself before, but I'm glad for all the experience I've had flying with my family - one less thing to stress about when I already know the motions I'm being put through. I'm also so glad to be Canadian, leaving my home country amongst smiles and good wishes of all the airport staff I've encountered. My high-flying, points-earning father managed to get my flight entirely on his reward points, which gave me access to the airline lounge. So I am here, enjoying a glass of red wine in the peaceful KLM lounge before this exciting chapter begins. I can't help feeling that this will be an awfully big adventure.

The Eve Of My Departure

Light packer, extraordinaire.

Hello Webisphere - here marks the beginning of my travel blog, the account of my four-month adventure across the Atlantic. I'm a 22-year-old Brock University student majoring in Popular Culture with the CPCF department (Communications, Popular Culture, and Film Studies). Brock gives each student the incredible opportunity to study at a partner school abroad for one or two semesters, for the tuition cost of studying at home. I chose to go to Glasgow, Scotland for one semester (too chicken to commit to a full year abroad!).

So here I am, sitting in bed (trying to get an early night to make up for the inevitable lost sleep from my overnight flight tomorrow) taking stock of my luggage. Visually, I see one large blue suitcase, one carry-on pink case, and my floral school backpack. Internally, I know that it took two days of cramming, folding, stuffing, dumping, repacking, and rolling to fit all my choice articles into my luggage. Somehow, I managed to pack for four months abroad into three bags of varying sizes.
 I had to keep telling myself that laundry and toiletries are established amenities worldwide, and I didn't need to pack my own toothpaste, soap, or enough clean clothing to get me through the one hundred twenty days I'm to spend across the pond. When I get anxious, I get... crazy. Normally what I rely on is my boyfriend Jarrett's words of wisdom to bring me back to the realm of sanity but we said our goodbyes two days ago. And so, to cope without him, I have done plenty of preparation.

I've done my research on currency, taxis, subways, and getting a pay-as-you-go phone once I arrive. I've suspended my home cell account, notified my bank that I'll be in the UK, and gotten all the paperwork together to A) cross the border and B) open a local bank account. I've packed twice, double-checked with my airline that I'm within all the baggage restrictions, and have printed a copy of my travel itinerary. I've even Google-Earth'd my residence at Glasgow Caledonian, just to have something to expect when I arrive.

I seem to be split in two - between really looking forward to going to Glasgow, and really anxious and upset about leaving home. I'm sure once I've landed, unpacked, and taken a deep breath I'll feel much more settled.