Arrival at Uni

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So it has taken me two weeks to get caught up with what has been going on in my life. So much has happened and it's hard to put it all in words, so bear with me. I'll pick up where I left off.

The next morning we were picked up by our previous cab driver at 6am to be taken to the ferry to Holyhead in the UK. We paid extra for guaranteed seats in a higher class that provided free food, and I would recommend doing that if you don't mind the money. The ferry is about 2 hours long and the lower class cabin was incredibly crowded. It seemed like everyone had a seat, but it was nice to have ours guaranteed. We figured that it would be nice to go outside on deck, but we let my father be the guinea pig and he told us that he felt like he had been in a hurricane. We had definitely been getting our first taste of English weather...

We spent most of the ride chatting with a man named Gary who went to uni (what they call university)* in Liverpool. An interesting thing that I learned from him was that people from Liverpool speak in what is called a "scouse" accent. I learned later that there are names for the people in each city based on their accent. "Geordie" is Newcastle, "manc" is Manchester, etc. No one has been able to tell me where any of the names came from.

When we landed in Holyhead, Wales, we made our way over to our rental car. I must have been trembling because I was convinced that we would not be able to survive the English roads. My dad loaded the car up with all sorts of insurance, sat nav (what they call GPS), and our four million suitcases and we took off. I was taken aback at first when I saw my mom in the driver's seat, but quickly remembered that not only do they drive on the opposite side of the road, but also in the opposite side of the car. Nevertheless, we embarked on our journey to Ormskirk.

The road led us through northern Wales. It was an absolutely beautiful trip, leading us along the northern coast through many old port towns and castles from the age of the Vikings. There were many old fortresses and stone buildings left over and scattered randomly throughout the trip. I found myself focusing less on the road and more on the scenery. From what I have seen of Wales, I would definitely recommend it.

I started being accustomed to driving on the left side of the road. It was interesting that my Dad would tend to veer towards the left near the curb. I would have predicted that he would go towards the right to go on the side of the road that we were used to, but actually what seems to happen is that you try so hard to stay away from traffic and you are not used to guessing the space between the left side of the car and the side of the road that you frequently get yelled at by the rumble strip as you drive over it. Also, while we're on the topic of driving in the UK, DEFINITELY get a GPS. It helps you immensely to navigate the confusing roads and highways, and particularly the roundabouts, which are adventures in themselves. The roads will not be quite clearly marked and it is hard to tell which road leads where, so having a GPS tell you what to do and how to correct yourself when you make the wrong turn is incredibly helpful. Frankly, I think it might be the only reason we made it to Ormskirk on time.

Things continued to be fine on the road until we finally made it into the city itself. The roads in most towns, especially ones as small as Ormskirk, are wide enough only for two cars. You cannot give the cars too much room on the right or you will find yourself on the pavement (sidewalk) and pissing off many pedestrians. To make matters worse, people often park their cars on the sides of the roads, leaving even a smaller amount of room for two lanes of traffic to pass through. Needless to say, I was relieved to find myself arriving on still ground at Edge Hill.

We struggled around to figure out where to go, and ended up at the security entrance looking confused. They were very helpful and pointed us in the right place. Next thing I knew I was being shoved around with about 20 other American students through lines of registrations and other formal school processes. We moved in and out of rooms, stood in long queues (lines) and were encouraged to cut in front of the local students who were waiting to register, finding ourselves already making enemies in our new country. Most of us were jet-lagged or exhausted from being up early to take a ferry, in my case, and found ourselves in a daze, wondering if this was all really happening. On top of that, I was still suffering from being ill (sick means throwing up in the UK, apparently) and was constantly coughing or sneezing. Finally, I was given my Uni Card, loads of information, and a key to my dorm that made me an official resident of the UK.

Next thing we knew, we were being hurried around on a tour of Ormskirk. By the way, I should mention that at this point in the day, about 16:00 (4 pm), I had only eaten bits of the free food that I had received on the ferry, consisting of an apple, an orange and a bag of crisps (chips). (The crisp/chip thing is constantly confusing to me, still, and I ask my friends for chips and they give me blank looks). By this time, I had absolutely no desire to be led around a small city centre (downtown) that consisted of three streets in a pedestrian mall with two story buildings, small enough for me to accidentally run into my parents in search of food. All I wanted to do was go eat dinner and pass out.

The tour finally ended and I met up with my parents in a pub called Disraeli's, which turns out to be a popular student hangout. We had a drink and an appetizer and made our way to a French restaurant called the Left Bank. The waiters were incredibly friendly and took forever to tell us the specials because they were too busy insulting each other and asking me questions. We ordered our food, which was indescribably wonderful and overdue, and we went back to the halls so that I could spend my first night in my new living space.

So far, only the American students had been moved in to their rooms. The halls were absolutely quiet and abandoned. The rooms looked oddly familiar to prison cells, with stark white walls and high ceilings to make you feel small and insignificant. Keep in mind that I have never seen a real working prison cell, so I really don't know what I'm comparing it to, but you get the idea. Each room is comprised of one sink with two faucets (one for hot and one for cold), a small closet, a bookshelf, desk, extra chair, bed and night stand. There are only three outlets in the entire room. Many people unpacked their suitcases putting their clothes on the bookshelf. It is interesting that the presence of a bookshelf took priority over the presence of a dresser to put clothes in. There are four halls, two upstairs and two downstairs, and in each hall there is a small kitchen, toilet (bathroom), and bathroom (shower). We noticed that some of the names on the door were male, and we noticed that there was only one bathroom... put two and two together and we realized that we were sharing bathrooms with boys.... None of us were extremely excited about the dorm situation. Despite the discomfort of my room, I made my way to my bed and fell asleep for my first night as a resident of the UK.

*Note: I will translate frequently from English English to American English in these blogs because I constantly find myself having to translate when I am speaking to people here. This gives you an idea of what it feels like to not really speak the same language as the locals and find yourself getting many blank looks during conversation. True story.

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Comments

[Mom]

Wow!
You need to think about writing as part of your career. You are really good at bringing everything alive. Perhaps you and Sam should write a script about your adventures. Julia Roberts is starring in a movie written by a woman who did the very same thing, "Eat, Pray, Love". You should ready this book and go for it.