My first official week in Edinburgh has finally given way and already I find myself grasping to the days, terrified of when it all ends. The city is wonderful, beautiful, and a series of other praising terms, but perhaps best of all, it just fits. Walking to class this morning, I was struck by how comfortable I feel here. It's akin to when a new acquaintance seems like a old friend because the two of you get along so astonishingly well. I wouldn't be boastful enough to say Edinburgh is tailored to me because in reality, I think this city has the ability to sweep most individuals off their feet. However, nothing seems out of place. My classes are fantastic, my dorm is never dull as well as exceeding friendly and the streets already seem to lay out in a familiar manner.
My birthday weekend was fantastic. Saturday started with a trip to St. Andrew's, a seaside town that holds the coffee shop were Kate and William apparently first began their romance. Believe me, if ever a place pulsed with romance, it's this one. Forget about Paris and Rome because this enchanting area is filled with historical ruins, friendly pubs complete with even friendlier canines and a ever present view of St. Andrew's Bay. Additionally, if the charm of this town doesn't sweep you off your feet, the wind certainly will. I plan to revisit many times during my stay in Scotland.
We parted from St. Andrew's and returned to Edinburgh around 6:00 pm, giving me enough time to run back to my dorm to ready myself for birthday celebrations. Paired with a wonderful company of international students, I began my night with a very nice bottle of dry Prosecco. We then wandered to the Library Pub in Teviot, the student union. The Library Pub gets its name from the antique books that line its walls and the sophisticated atmosphere, which is probably far less impressive to regulars. It's a student favorite and is bound to become one of mine as well. All in all, the night was full of good times and although away from home for the first time, I found it more than easy to make it a memorable birthday in Edinburgh.
One of convenient parts of study abroad is that Mondays no longer cause the same anxiety that they once did. No matter where I am in the world, sociology readings will always wet my appetite for discussion and thus I was more than ready to go to classes and begin the scholastic week. One of my classes, Theories of Power, is absolutely wonderful. It's filled mostly with fourth years and post grads, making the discussion rapid and challenging. Additionally, the professor does a wonderful job of playing devil's advocate so there's never an unturned stone while developing one's argument. We're diving into some better-known works such as Machiavelli's The Prince as well as the more obscure pieces in power theory development. As I said before, no matter what facet of Edinburgh I'm exploring, it just seems to fit, whether it's academic, social or spatial. So, for today, I am Sammy the Settled, satisfied with all the choices that have led me to this wonderful place and excited at the endless opportunities it holds.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Sammy who Survived Scottish Plumbing Pandemonium
I have reached the end of my first school week in Edinburgh and couldn't possibly be more enchanted with my surroundings. At some point, I'll have to stop ogling at buildings and look like I actually belong in this marvelous city. However, I figure I have a few weeks left of touristy exclamations and behaviors before it gets to be too serious a problem. Last night was my first night out on the town with some fellow international friends and a couple of Scottish guides, showing us the best of the best in Edinburgh nightlife. There's no shortage of things to do here and every street holds new opportunities. Not surprisingly, the night ended in laughter and reminiscing but the beginning may have been the most memorable part.
My friends and I had met up at a flat to start our night at a common location and then proceed to the busy streets. To get to know one another better, we were sitting around the kitchen table, quite enjoying ourselves and swapping stories about our homes. We all were as giddy as could be, wondering, as this was the first night out, what sorts of eventful happenings awaited us. Someone announced that it was finally time to head out and we all ran to the bathroom before embarking. While the others were finishing up, I was waiting in the kitchen and learning all about the Scottish independence movement from an English and a Scottish student, flatmates that seem to revel in their rivalry. Additionally, accents were imitated by both the American and UK students, leaving everyone in stitches. In the middle of this conversation, a friend came in with a horrified expression on, asking that we come look at the toilet because something was wrong. One would think that American and Scottish toilets couldn't be that different, but one would be wrong. Never have I seen so many strange pieces fit together in an even stranger manner.
We all rushed into the not-so-spacious bathroom to see the top of the toilet removed and water flooding into the back of it at an alarming rate. Now, we all had a couple drinks to warm us before we went out into the cold night air and as the majority of us were American, no one in the group was a specialist in Scottish plumbing. Additionally, there was a great concern with ruining one's shoes as water was flowing so quickly that it was now seeping onto the floor, crawling towards an array of expensive heels and boots. One of the flatmates and I were desperately trying to fit a detached balloon-like piece back onto the tube spouting water. Do note how I don't have any actual terminology to explain what was happening. As we tried over and over to force it back on, the water would rebelliously shoot all over us, refusing to be stopped. The best I could think to do was put my finger over the tube and block it, standing in my fancy dress and boots over this monster of a toilet. Eventually, we panicked and sent our Scottish friends to find the residential assistant, who, after seeing the severity of this plumbing problem, called security to have someone come turn the water off so it could be fixed in the morning. It was now midnight and we all were a little worse for the wear. Nonetheless, we were still determined to make a night of it and set out into Edinburgh's streets to have a very fun time, indeed. I don't think I will ever had such an eventful first night out as this one and in the future, I shall be much more wary of the potential threat of plumbing. All in all, we persevered and despite our toilet's best efforts, got to experience Edinburgh's nightlife.
My friends and I had met up at a flat to start our night at a common location and then proceed to the busy streets. To get to know one another better, we were sitting around the kitchen table, quite enjoying ourselves and swapping stories about our homes. We all were as giddy as could be, wondering, as this was the first night out, what sorts of eventful happenings awaited us. Someone announced that it was finally time to head out and we all ran to the bathroom before embarking. While the others were finishing up, I was waiting in the kitchen and learning all about the Scottish independence movement from an English and a Scottish student, flatmates that seem to revel in their rivalry. Additionally, accents were imitated by both the American and UK students, leaving everyone in stitches. In the middle of this conversation, a friend came in with a horrified expression on, asking that we come look at the toilet because something was wrong. One would think that American and Scottish toilets couldn't be that different, but one would be wrong. Never have I seen so many strange pieces fit together in an even stranger manner.
We all rushed into the not-so-spacious bathroom to see the top of the toilet removed and water flooding into the back of it at an alarming rate. Now, we all had a couple drinks to warm us before we went out into the cold night air and as the majority of us were American, no one in the group was a specialist in Scottish plumbing. Additionally, there was a great concern with ruining one's shoes as water was flowing so quickly that it was now seeping onto the floor, crawling towards an array of expensive heels and boots. One of the flatmates and I were desperately trying to fit a detached balloon-like piece back onto the tube spouting water. Do note how I don't have any actual terminology to explain what was happening. As we tried over and over to force it back on, the water would rebelliously shoot all over us, refusing to be stopped. The best I could think to do was put my finger over the tube and block it, standing in my fancy dress and boots over this monster of a toilet. Eventually, we panicked and sent our Scottish friends to find the residential assistant, who, after seeing the severity of this plumbing problem, called security to have someone come turn the water off so it could be fixed in the morning. It was now midnight and we all were a little worse for the wear. Nonetheless, we were still determined to make a night of it and set out into Edinburgh's streets to have a very fun time, indeed. I don't think I will ever had such an eventful first night out as this one and in the future, I shall be much more wary of the potential threat of plumbing. All in all, we persevered and despite our toilet's best efforts, got to experience Edinburgh's nightlife.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Sammy the Bagel Smuggler
Today is officially my fourth day in Edinburgh and with all the hubbub experienced in the past three, it feels as through I've been here for a full week already. Today was also the first day that I got the chance to sleep in, something I swore I'd resist while abroad. Unfortunately, the jet lag got the best of me and I found myself dozing until 10:30, the hour at which breakfast in my dining hall is finished. My university meal plan provides breakfast and dinner everyday, leaving us stranded for lunch plans. However, I'm no first year student and my years in college have taught me, if anything, that a large purse can double as the perfect receptacle for smuggling extra food out of the dining hall to save money. Starting tomorrow I will be Sammy the Bagel Smuggler, as living in Edinburgh is pricey and no amount of pride can stop me from pinching pence through immorality. Yet, I am living with mostly first year students and I hope I don't frighten any new friends away by having a bag that constantly smells of baked goods and has crumbs at the bottom.
I've already gone to one class, entitled Gender and Development, that investigates gender roles and inequity in developing nations and development efforts. My class is actually made up of both undergraduates and postgraduates so the reading material is complex yet satisfying. Sitting in the class and hearing familiar sociological terminology felt like sliding on a favorite pair of slippers, the type that have intimately formed to one's foot over time. It may sound absolutely nerdy but it helped center me, place me back in my self-proclaimed element. What's more, I even got to participate. Yes, after arriving only two days before and having class at 9 am that's a 30 minute walk from my dorm, the participation addict in me shot up my hand the second there was an opportunity. Jabbering on about social constructs and macro/micro systems of reinforcement in a blatant nasally American accent, I felt very much at home. The class was so wonderful that I may even switch out of my psych courses to take on another sociology course but practicality bids me to consider all the options. However, I will resist the nail-biting patterns of the past and decide to take the classes that excite me most. It's Scotland for God's sake and after all, whit's fur ye'll no go past ye!
I've already gone to one class, entitled Gender and Development, that investigates gender roles and inequity in developing nations and development efforts. My class is actually made up of both undergraduates and postgraduates so the reading material is complex yet satisfying. Sitting in the class and hearing familiar sociological terminology felt like sliding on a favorite pair of slippers, the type that have intimately formed to one's foot over time. It may sound absolutely nerdy but it helped center me, place me back in my self-proclaimed element. What's more, I even got to participate. Yes, after arriving only two days before and having class at 9 am that's a 30 minute walk from my dorm, the participation addict in me shot up my hand the second there was an opportunity. Jabbering on about social constructs and macro/micro systems of reinforcement in a blatant nasally American accent, I felt very much at home. The class was so wonderful that I may even switch out of my psych courses to take on another sociology course but practicality bids me to consider all the options. However, I will resist the nail-biting patterns of the past and decide to take the classes that excite me most. It's Scotland for God's sake and after all, whit's fur ye'll no go past ye!
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Sammy the Unprepared yet Lucky
This morning started with my stewardess tossing a breakfast jumble on my lap an hour before I was going to land in Amsterdam. My body and I had come to an agreement that we were both going to ignore the lack of sleep and go on with things as if I had a solid twelve hours under by belt. However, it took a good deal of caffeinated coaxing. The closeness of Scotland was surmounted by the tedious nature of transferring flights and when I finally arrived at gate D56, I immediately gave up any hope of being social and pulled out a leafed-through novel. However, I happened to eavesdrop on some girls near by who were discussing one of the recent emails from the Edinburgh visiting student office. A second wind overtook my grumpy nature and I joined the conversation, eventually finding myself as excited as when I first left Brunswick. Shortly after, more sleep-depraved students stepped forward and joined our travel clan, all heaped on the floor with our bags sprawled around us. Time began to pass much quicker and soon my ears were popping as we took off to Edinburgh. I could barely make a dent in my novel before the familiar "bing" of the seat belt landing sign sounded.
At this point, I was now cocky. Here is Sammy, conqueror of transferring flights and overcoming fatigue! There's no voyage on earth that could dampen the gust in her sails. Yet, this attitude was quickly curbed when a newly-made friend pulled out her acceptance letter from the University of Edinburgh. Ah, yes... that's how I was supposed to validate my visa exemption. Right, the way I am allowed into the country... You see, without this letter and without a visa, my case for entering Scotland soon became milk toast. At this moment I began racking my brain thinking over ways to seem confident enough that Scottish customs would declare, "No matter! She obviously belongs here. Can't you see the pure Scot in her eyes?" Unfortunately, I must have lacked some roar in my voice because as soon as I admitted my folly to the women checking my passport, she gravely looked up at me, promising no easy passage. I decided that if Highlander confidence wouldn't sway her, then there was only one more choice, groveling. And grovel I did, spinning stories about how it was tragically left at a point of no return when in reality I had blatantly forgotten that I would ever need it. Yet, she seemed satisfied at this neurotic show of desperateness and after a good scolding, let me pass. Today I send my kind regards to serendipity and deem myself Sammy the Unprepared yet Lucky.
Although I lost some dignity to accomplish it, I finally stepped foot on Edinburgh's turf and eventually landed in front of my room, a very pleasant single with a charming look over Scottish marshlands. My body and I again began the tussle over sleep deprivation but a quickly gulped coffee helped me greatly. I left my still-packed bags in my room and began to walk over the nearer areas of the city, enjoying how every little thing seemed different from its twin in the states. I walked past a jack russell terrier, a dog I normally dislike, and found its Scottish version charming as the chap stubbornly refused to drop a coveted stick while crossing a bustling city street. I had the fortune to meet up with some other American students and soon found myself in enjoyable company through dinner time. We even got to see the University's men's rugby team stroll into the college's pub, sending the table of jet-lagged American women into a giggling frenzy. However, after dinner, no amount of folklore tunes, snakebites (a fantastic drink consisting of ale and currant syrup) or swarthy ruggers could keep the thought of a good night's sleep out of my head. So, a couple of my friends, under the same sleep spell, joined me and we made our way back to the dorms to rest up for tomorrow.
At this point, I was now cocky. Here is Sammy, conqueror of transferring flights and overcoming fatigue! There's no voyage on earth that could dampen the gust in her sails. Yet, this attitude was quickly curbed when a newly-made friend pulled out her acceptance letter from the University of Edinburgh. Ah, yes... that's how I was supposed to validate my visa exemption. Right, the way I am allowed into the country... You see, without this letter and without a visa, my case for entering Scotland soon became milk toast. At this moment I began racking my brain thinking over ways to seem confident enough that Scottish customs would declare, "No matter! She obviously belongs here. Can't you see the pure Scot in her eyes?" Unfortunately, I must have lacked some roar in my voice because as soon as I admitted my folly to the women checking my passport, she gravely looked up at me, promising no easy passage. I decided that if Highlander confidence wouldn't sway her, then there was only one more choice, groveling. And grovel I did, spinning stories about how it was tragically left at a point of no return when in reality I had blatantly forgotten that I would ever need it. Yet, she seemed satisfied at this neurotic show of desperateness and after a good scolding, let me pass. Today I send my kind regards to serendipity and deem myself Sammy the Unprepared yet Lucky.
Although I lost some dignity to accomplish it, I finally stepped foot on Edinburgh's turf and eventually landed in front of my room, a very pleasant single with a charming look over Scottish marshlands. My body and I again began the tussle over sleep deprivation but a quickly gulped coffee helped me greatly. I left my still-packed bags in my room and began to walk over the nearer areas of the city, enjoying how every little thing seemed different from its twin in the states. I walked past a jack russell terrier, a dog I normally dislike, and found its Scottish version charming as the chap stubbornly refused to drop a coveted stick while crossing a bustling city street. I had the fortune to meet up with some other American students and soon found myself in enjoyable company through dinner time. We even got to see the University's men's rugby team stroll into the college's pub, sending the table of jet-lagged American women into a giggling frenzy. However, after dinner, no amount of folklore tunes, snakebites (a fantastic drink consisting of ale and currant syrup) or swarthy ruggers could keep the thought of a good night's sleep out of my head. So, a couple of my friends, under the same sleep spell, joined me and we made our way back to the dorms to rest up for tomorrow.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Sammy the Boarding Pass Wielder
The phrase "Whit's fur ye'll no go past ye" is an old Scottish saying that basically translates as "If it's meant to happen, it will happen", a sort of softened fatalistic approach to the everyday experience. Personally, I'm the type of individual who gets fixated on a mantra, humming it in my head like most people do a tune. This particular saying caught my eye and I've adopted it as the center to my experience abroad. I plan to throw myself into whatever haggis-filled, cobble-stoned or bagpipe-playing adventure comes my way in Edinburgh, especially the ones that err on the side of fantastical.
It's with this whimsical attitude that I await to board my plane in the not so whimsical Logan terminal, specifically A14. My fellow travelers seem much more weathered than I am, seeing as this is the first time I have ever been through airport security by myself. Current problems stewing on the back-burner of my mind include the numerous American electronics I have and all the converters I lack, the ever-growing cumulus clouds around Boston and the trepidation of being away from all that I know for the first time. However, have no fear!
I, dubbed previously as over-planning and endlessly-worrying, am going to adopt a devil may care attitude towards this voyage and change my moniker from Sammy the nail-bitter into something worthy of the most brutish Highlander. But true to moniker tradition, I will have to wait to see what challenges are surmounted or experiences had before I take on any new titles. Today, it is Sammy the Boarding Pass Wielder, as I confidently and flawlessly tucked away, zipped up, pulled out and presented every document asked of me, occasionally even making comical quips. I hope that my titles will become more prestigious or courageous as time goes on but as a new adventurer, today's sits just fine with me. So, with a final wave to my beloved American shore, I'm off for a quick layover in Amsterdam and finally, the embraces of Edinburgh and adventure.
It's with this whimsical attitude that I await to board my plane in the not so whimsical Logan terminal, specifically A14. My fellow travelers seem much more weathered than I am, seeing as this is the first time I have ever been through airport security by myself. Current problems stewing on the back-burner of my mind include the numerous American electronics I have and all the converters I lack, the ever-growing cumulus clouds around Boston and the trepidation of being away from all that I know for the first time. However, have no fear!
I, dubbed previously as over-planning and endlessly-worrying, am going to adopt a devil may care attitude towards this voyage and change my moniker from Sammy the nail-bitter into something worthy of the most brutish Highlander. But true to moniker tradition, I will have to wait to see what challenges are surmounted or experiences had before I take on any new titles. Today, it is Sammy the Boarding Pass Wielder, as I confidently and flawlessly tucked away, zipped up, pulled out and presented every document asked of me, occasionally even making comical quips. I hope that my titles will become more prestigious or courageous as time goes on but as a new adventurer, today's sits just fine with me. So, with a final wave to my beloved American shore, I'm off for a quick layover in Amsterdam and finally, the embraces of Edinburgh and adventure.
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