Orientation Shenanigans

Hey all you wonderful people I miss dearly :)

This is the first time in the past three days I've had any kind of time to myself when I didn't have to sleep or call someone or do something for school. And I need to right an account of it all, before I forget it, so even though I should be napping before a night out (eating? drinking? I don't know, I just show up where I'm told...) I'm going to write as quickly as possible, so don't mind the mistakes please!

So, the day before Orientation, I made my first friend. My lock had jammed, which apparently "happens" when Ramsey Hall turns on their heater (So why don't you fix it...? The persistent question with all things UK thus far). After splaying out in my doorway, to the amusement of several passerbys, I finally went downstairs to the reception office, where I waited another 10 minutes for the guy to finish checking everyone else in before he (the one dude on duty) could open my door. As I waited, this girl was very shyly standing next to the line, although she didn't seem to be part of it. Since we were all talking, I asked her what she was studying and we just got to talking. Turns out she actually didn't need to wait in line but had just come downstairs in the hopes of meeting someone. Her name is Virginia and she is Italian, studying Linguistics at UCL for the fall semester. So we got dinner together and then chatted for a bit after. She's very sweet, and very studious, and in the time I've spent with her (I do nearly everything with her) I've realized she is a complete sweetheart, if a little shy around new comers. We make a good team though, she, meeting many foreign students, and I meeting more American students (which are technically foreign here too, thanks for pointing it out, but honestly, I can't fix that mental hiccup no matter how much I try). Soon, we're supposed to meet up with a group of Germans, Italians, Spanish, and French people for some dinner.

So, I am not alone! Yay! She doesn't really seem intent on going out too much though, so now begins my search for some party people. I need a night out soon to de-stress! Last night was the first time I ventured to a pub, and it was very chill, drank a Corona (ok, not very English, give me a break, it's only the first week!) and just talked to people outside. I also had my first experience getting remarkably lost with two guys I had just met ("Ivanna, I'm on my way, I'm just lost with these two guys I just met. No, I swear, I don't think they're going to rape me!"). My calves have been hurting since then, but I did manage walk the other way down Tottenham Ct, which I hadn't quite done before.

Since my last update, I've also moved into Astor College, coincidently on the busiest academic day for orientation, but UCL people don't really seem too interested in the well-being of their students. Or commodity. Did I mention that Astor is yet to be finished being refurbished, so I woke up at 7 am this morning to two construction men right outside my 7th floor window? Imagine the vertigo when I momentarily had a crazy, paranoid feeling my room alone (which is the room on the uppermost corner of the 7th floor, all the way down the hall) was going to topple 7 stories down on to some poor, unsuspecting Londoner. Or, with the amount of us here, could've easily been an affiliate student I suppose.

Orientation was no less comforting than the housing situation. I waited in line 3 hours, complete nauseous from a cheap egg sandwich I had just eaten for lunch, and unable to move from my spot in line until it was all complete. I then threw up immediately after (as lady-like as possible--it is London, after all, polite vomiting is the only way to go in public University bathrooms), and was then asked 5 minutes later to take my UCL ID picture.

No, you can't see it.

Registering courses with the department took place the next day, first with the English department and then only today with the European Cultural Studies department (which, since my enrollment, has merged with all the language departments into one, large umbrella department). I may start keeping a quote book to keep track of all the ridiculous things I'm being told about UCL now. For example, the English department informs you of your tutor's name and your seminar assignments not online, not through email, not through personal mailboxes, but through a noticeboard. One noticeboard. Coincidently, also where you choose those seminars. So, if English were more pre-Med, someone could theoretically just cross your name off. Yay, English at UCL! Also, you must be sure to see what you need to before 6 pm any weekday, because you won't have access to it again until the next business day. Maybe I'm spoiled (Ok, yes, Yale is a spoiling place), but this seems slightly archaic in 2011. Someone buy them computers please?

Anyway, I really should change considering I don't know what bus I'm taking (or where I'm going...) but I am meeting someone in 10 minutes to head over (to the dinner? pub? pot luck? badly communicated...)

I miss you all terribly, love from London,

adri

P.S. The showers only turn on for 11 seconds at a time. I've counted. Then you need to press a button again. And again. And again. Certainly conserves water--does nothing for my stress relief.

And...

I just pulled an all-nighter for no reason. My fucked up sleeping cycle needs to resolve itself, now please.

This is no way to go into an orientation. -.- On the bright side, I realized I have a night lamp for reading right above my bed. Yay, UCL planning for all-nighters!

London, at last?

The view from my room, at night

My disaster zone of a room right now--very colorful, huh?

So I'm HERE! Actually, I got here yesterday, but I guess I didn't really get my life together until today--which is strange, considering that I actually woke up maybe 5 hours ago? Still, I feel like I actually got my feet a little more under me today. But I guess I'm getting ahead of myself, so let's start from the beginning.

I flew over with Delta, a new experience on its own, but not unpleasant. There was one stewardess that I just couldn't seem to make happy, but even she wasn't enough to sour the fact that I had my row to myself, right by a window. I was just short enough to fit comfortably splayed out across two seats, which I did. I watched Something Borrowed, a weirdly excruciating experience, much like the book. I guess the whole topic of infidelity just doesn't make good, light entertainment--go figure. Then I read for about half an hour and ate dinner before giving into the sleep. By the time I woke up we were only about an hour and a half away, which I filled with breakfast and some more reading. I kept thinking I should write, force myself into that place where transition makes such a luxurious escape for words, but for some reason I feel strangely distanced from writing lately. Maybe its the vague feeling that I messed up helping Teeth as I should have this summer, or the way that writing seems like such an insignificant reaction to a summer of working hard with kids who really deserve the world and just don't have those opportunities. Either way, writing now seems hard enough. But I want to do this. I need a better log of my life for the next three months, even if it turns out to be more for me than anyone else.

Eventually my plane landed, and I was pumped to start discovering London, sure I was going to take the Tube in, get a little lost, but ultimately spend less money and have a better feel for my bearings. And then I got to the UK Border Agency, and those feelings ceased immediatly. The student line was long, like 3 hours-waiting-long. Like, being there long enough to meet some people long. Two people, in fact, behind me in line, both having flown in from Detroit and studying in London for the semester. Both seemed like really cool people, but my tongue kept doing the twister thing that it seems to do after I get any kind of reaction to telling someone I go to Yale. Which I did, after I told them. And even though they seemed to try really hard not to hold it against me, it always feels like I'm unfairly swimming upstream for some time, trying to get back to a place where someone thinks of me as more than "smart"--if only they knew! We did get along well enough after all the time in line though, so after passing security, we searched out our bags that had been quarantined to their lonely corner long ago and searched out some food options--12 hours is a long time to go with food and coffee. A panini and capuccino from Costa later, we boarded the 15 pound and 15 minute Heathrow Express to Paddington Station in central London. There, we parted ways and I took a taxi to Ramsey Hall, where I am staying until Astor College is ready. Astor and Ramsey are relatively close, and closer still to the main UCL campus, especially in comparison to the other college options. 

My immediate impression of London is that their taxis are fuckin' cool. I want a car with a ginormous backseat and comfy seating--yes please. Also, though, why have a back that looks like a trunk if you don't actually have a trunk? It's just asking to confuse poor, jet lagged American students dragging around over weight luggage. Which it did, my first big hiccup as an American in London. Which I suppose is interesting on its own, how much more I feel American in London than I ever seem to in America. Here, calling myself American comes so much easier, without that inkling of uncertainty, where I weigh my Paraguayan roots against my American upbringing and decided where the balance tilts for the moments. Here, I am just American. Simple. And maybe a little deranged--like when I handed the guy at the Vodaphone store money and simply asked him to fix my life. He did, God bless his soul, and he wasn't the only one. Most people here seem willing to help, if only a little impatient when lines, or "queues," are involved. Also, what the hell is a "swipe card"? Because apparently I have one and they don't accept them here. And my used cell's battery charger stopped working last night. And my lock stopped locking today, which apparently it tends to do when they turn on the heater, and I had to wait until the one man on duty could help me open it, so by the time I went to fix the charger situation, guess who was already closed? Right, the store who I'm starting to think jipped me. Joy. 

Tomorrow, I start orientation. I am hopeful--perhaps now I will fill fulfilled, busy again, finally. Ready to start my time at London right, hopefully not tired, and ready to meet new people and open to new experiences. Because right now, honestly, I'm still tired. And a little homesick. And missing everything familiar about the U.S. and everything safe about Yale and annoyed that I sound more and more like the teenager I was than the woman I want to be. The scholar I'd like to be. 

So, here's to that woman, who can face the craziness and coldness of London and its people without wanting to hide under a rock. Here's to that woman, who made the decision to put us in this position in the first, us being that woman and the little girl who wants a warmer blanket and some milk and cookies. 

I'm going to clean my room, which as you can see is a disaster zone right now, and then shower, wash my hair, and ready myself for tomorrow. And maybe go stare at some English coins for a bit 0.0 Because they are more than a little confusing...

love, from london

adri