One year ago today, at this very moment, I was sitting in an airplane slowly making my journey from Ohio to England.
This will be the last blog post that I make on this blog.
I know that it's weird that I'm ending my study abroad blog several months after my plane landed at Hopkins Airport this past June, but when you do something like fly across the ocean to study in a new country for half a year or so, it takes a really long time to process everything that happened to you.
In my last post, I was convinced that living in England didn't change me in the slightest. I thought that it only made me a more confused human being and that it didn't really positively impact my life. I thought that when I got back to Wooster, I'd be starting from ground zero without any direction.
Upon reflection, I was more than wrong.
This past semester at Wooster has been one of my best. I cannot believe how much studying abroad helped me to grow in confidence. I'm taking on new challenges and taking advantage of many opportunities that I normally would not have even considered. For example, when a few of my friends found out from another friend that I'm presenting my IS at a mini lecture series event, they said to her, "Ellen would have never done that before she went abroad." I've changed a lot, and I am certain that it was all for the better.
I'm also not afraid to be my true self any longer. People have always felt that I was confident with who I am because I've never been afraid to let my nerdy side show. However, I was always a bit shy about letting people know that I can be "basic" at times and that I like drinking a PSL while watching SYTTD as much as the next guy. But after coming home from England, I realized that life's too short to not do what you want to do.
I still talk to many of the friends that I made in England through Facebook chat, Snapchat, and even snail mail. We sent each other Thanksgiving cards and they don't make fun of me when I send them random messages that say things like, "Do you watch Charlie Brown in England?" My one friend and will often times send each other snaps with the temperature on it, making sure to convert it into either C or F so that the other will understand what the temperature means. I love the fact that I can still keep up a friendship with them even though I have to be so far away. They're all really spectacular individuals.
Sometimes, I'll accidentally start "speaking British" around my friends in America, but they're okay with it. While they'll sometimes lightly tease me a bit if I accidentally ask them if we're "queuing up" or if I say "cheers," they've all told me that they think it's cute.
The littlest things make me think of my time in York, and sometimes I feel a bit lonely that no one around here can ever relate to those moments. I sometimes forget that my friends don't know why Henry Hoover is the most hilarious bloke in the world and that they don't know why the word Tokyo brings back so many memories for me. They don't know the agony of waiting over two hours for Chinese Take-Away on Valentine's Day, nor do they know why I get a little misty eyed when "American Pie" comes on the radio. However, when the air is windy, slightly chilly, and there's a slight misty rain in the air, I feel at peace while walking around, because for a few brief moments, I feel like I am back.
2014 has definitely been one of the most interesting years of my entire life. If this year has taught me anything, it's that I am capable of so much more than I give myself credit for. If I wanted to, I could pack up everything I know and go live in another country. If anyone reading this is considering studying abroad, do it. You're going to learn so much about yourself and have the greatest experience of a lifetime.
I would like to thank my family for being so supportive of my decision to go to England, my English friends for being so eager to accept me into your lives, my American friends for instantly accepting me back into our group, the English department at the University of York for helping me along my English major path, and the IFSA-Butler staff for being the greatest Study Abroad organization in the country.
Since I've been home for a bit over a month now, I've decided to send out a quick update on what it's like to be back in my homeland.
Coming home was nuts, to say the least. After sobbing in the customs line, making my connect in JFK by under a half an hour, and nearly getting lost in the DC airport, I was greeted in Cleveland by my family, a beautiful "Welcome Home Ellen!" poster made by my little cousins, and my favorite foods from Taco Bell. I thought that my journey had ended at that moment, but little did I know, that was only the beginning of my next adventure.
When I first got home, I felt extremely isolated, but it's getting better. I'm still shocked by how loud Americans are and am hyper-aware of how much national pride our country has. There are times when I still say "pound" instead of "dollar," when I try to tell people that I'm "queueing up," and when I have to take a moment to figure out whether 8/11/14 means August 11th or November 8th. I'm still taken aback by how many flavors of Pop Tarts and Oreos we have, all of the lawyer adverts on the TV, and by the number of fast food restaurants that are on every corner. Things that once seemed normal to me now seem odd.
And England? I feel like it never happened. The best way that I can describe it is that I feel like I read a really good book or watched a really interesting film. If there weren't photographs of me in York and if I didn't get Snapchats from my friends over there, I wouldn't believe that it was real at all. In my mind, York, England is just as real to me as Hogwarts is.
I'm also having a hard time talking about England without coming off as being pretentious. It's hard saying, "Oh, well when I was living in England..." without having a couple of people roll their eyes. I'm starting to learn to just not bring it up unless I'm with other people who have studied abroad and know what it's like.
People told me that when I study abroad, I'll discover who I am and find myself. They said that I would come home with a new outlook on life and have a better idea of what I wanted from this world. I wish that I could say that I experienced something like that, but I just didn't. If anything, I know less about myself now than I ever did. I mean, I know that I like to go clubbing, and I know that I like academic research, but what else? All that I know about myself now is that I still haven't discovered who I really am or what I am really meant to do.
I'm also finding myself getting more and more disinterested in the things that I once obsessed over. Like none of that even matters anymore. I'm definitely not the person that I was. But I still haven't found the person who I am.
Being in your 20s sucks.
Whenever people ask me what England was like, I always come up blank. How can I possibly describe my experience there to anyone?! I didn't do a lot of traveling. I just did a lot of experiencing the culture. Chatting with people. Going out. Chilling out. Living. Explaining my life in England would be like explaining my life at home. I just can't. No one could possibly understand where I'm coming from.
Do I miss York? Yes. Very much.
Am I happy to be back at camp? Yes. Very much.
Do I want to go back to small town life at Wooster? We'll see.
Well, folks, this is it. My bags are all packed, my room is all clean, and my friends just left to go out. In the morning, I'm taking a taxi to a train to a tube to a plane to a plane to a plane to my car to my house. My time in York, England has come to an end.
I'm going back home.
If I could describe my study abroad experience, it would be "real." For my whole life, I've gone to strange schools and hung out with strange people who had strange ideas of fun. The most important part of high school was getting pop tabs, my friends back home would define a good night as one where we see if I can eat a hard taco in 3 bites (I can), and we're constantly saying things like, "I wonder what real people do. I wonder what real school is like. I wonder if we could ever be real." In my time in England, I've done things that I never thought that I could ever do. I like to go clubbing. I like sitting in big lecture halls. I like seeing popular films in the cinema. I know now that I can be a "real person."
But it's time to go back to my world of fandom tees, debates about Narcissa Malfoy's intentions, Walmart parties, and talking about Rastamouse with my professors in the middle of class. It's time to hang up my little blue party dress in favor of the MacLeod tartan kilt. It's time to stop living my Hannah Montana life and go back to being Miley Stewart.
Don't get me wrong. I am way too excited to go home. I've missed my friends and family so much. I need to be at camp. I need Wooster. I need Lakewood. But I also need York. Halifax College. Flat L. My friends in both America AND England.
The goodbyes were tearful, to say the least. Well, no. "Tearful" is an understatement. I cried on several separate occasions tonight...including right now. Shoot, now I'm sobbing again. Please give me a moment.
Deep breaths, Ellen. You have the Internet, after all. We've promised to snapchat and IM and keep in touch.
At least I'm too upset about leaving to be nervous about missing all of my connects! That's always something...right?
York, it's been real. I can't wait to re-visit you in the future. But until then...
As my time in England nears its end, I've found myself thinking a lot about what I'm going to miss the most. I'm going to miss the creepy plaster face above my bed. I'm going to miss getting Mama Noodle Cups and microwavable chicken patty sandwiches at Nisa. I'm going to miss walking on the bridge over the lake and running away from the terrifying geese. But I know now that the thing that I'm really going to miss the most about this country are the friends that I have made.
As a person with generalized and social anxiety, I have a really difficult time thinking that people like me. I know that I'm a likeable girl and that I've got a ton of friends all over the world, but the anxiety part of my brain is constantly telling me that everyone hates me or that everyone's judging me. I've been known to have anxiety attacks whenever I have to walk down to the kitchen to get some food or walk outside to take the bins out for fear of people seeing me and judging me. I spend a lot of time sitting in front of mirrors reciting the reasons why people keep me around. This isn't a pity call, however. This isn't an invitation for everyone to tell me that they love me. I genuinely know that. It's all very hard to explain, but it was necessary to say to make you realize why the next bit meant so much to me.
Yesterday at around 6pm, I was sitting in my room after a long group presentation preparation session in the library when one of my friends messaged me and said that we were going to hang out in the kitchen at 7pm. I thanked him and went back to my internetting. However, the more I thought about it, the more confused I became. Why were we hanging out in the kitchen at 7pm?! Not only was that really early, but if we ever hang out, it's in somebody's room. However, I decided not to question it any further, figuring that no one felt like giving up their room to host that evening.
At 6:59, I was almost finished getting ready when another friend knocked on my door. I answered it and she told me that we were all in the kitchen. I thanked her again and promised that I would be down in a moment. I re-thought that that was odd, but brushed it off again, thinking that perhaps my two friends hadn't communicated about the fact that I had been informed of this gathering.
When I walked downstairs and rounded the corner to the kitchen, I saw that there were white balloons taped up. I walked inside and heard everyone yell, "SURPRISE!" I looked over and saw that all of my friends were sitting at a table covered in burgers, hot dogs, sausages, crisps, chips, and scones. There were England balloons taped all over the place, England bunting on the rafters, and a great big bed sheet that looked like the American flag and the British flag with "We'll Miss You!" in the center. "American Pie" was playing in the background. I brought my hand to my mouth, deeply touched, got a bit blushy, and turned to leave the room for a moment from being so shy and delightfully embarrassed about the whole thing. (If you're friends with me on Facebook, there's a video of my reaction. And if you're not, feel free to either add me or watch it on the Facebook of someone who is my friend). When I sat down at the table, there was an adorable teddy bear card at my place setting. After "American Pie" finished, we all listened to the Frozen soundtrack and had a lovely dinner party. We then got ready to go to my favorite club, Club Salvation, and hilarity ensued ;)
I am so blessed that I have these wonderful people in my life. Whenever I think about my times in England, I'm not going to think about touring St. Paul's or seeing Big Ben. I'm going to think about sitting around eating Chinese food, those fun couple of hours before going to the clubs, the adventures that took place while we were buying food, bickering while playing board games, and sitting around watching films. You know. The wonderful genuine moments that I spent with my friends :')
Thank you, Flat L, not only for my party, but for accepting me without any judgement or reservation. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. You guys truly don't know how much this party and your friendship all meant to me.
The birds are chirping. The sun is shining. The breeze is blowing. I only have to wear a light hoodie when it comes out. You know what that means. It's spring!
Alright, so it's been spring for a good month now. But as a native Ohioan, I know to never trust spring. Whenever it starts to get warm and you get excited that spring is here, it gets really cold again and a huge blizzard rolls in and kills all of the pretty flowers. However, seeing as how it's June tomorrow, I'm 99% sure that this blog won't jinx the warm weather and cause Queen Elsa to set us into an eternal winter.
England is absolutely stunning in the spring. Everywhere you look, there are beautiful flowers and gorgeous trees. The country has gone from being grey and bleak to looking like a postcard. While the plants aren't doing much for my spring allergies, or "hay fever" as it's called here, they're lovely to look at.
The campus is built around a nice sized lake filled with many different kinds of birds. While the ducks are cute, the majority of the geese and swans terrify me to no end. I finally understand why kids run for their lives when playing games of "duck duck goose." However, since it's spring, all of these birds have babies now, and nothing is cuter than a gosling. I tried to get a good picture of them, but since their mamas and papas tend to hiss at you if you even look at their babies, I got one on the bridge and ran away before the mother goose could come and gouge my eyes out with her terrifying goose beak.
Mama Goose is glaring at me...
Nothing says spring and summertime like ice cream. While I was playing football with my friends, they were asking me if I've ever tried certain kinds of ice cream bars. It was then that I realized that not only are the sweets here different than they are at home, but the ice creams are as well. So I bought a couple and was NOT disappointed! Let me tell you...if I could figure out some way to fill my suitcase with British ice cream bars, I totally would!
The first one that I bought is a Twister. A Twister is a ice cream treat that has a sherbert core and is wrapped in both creamy vanilla ice cream and hard popsicle. Marius and Cosette's part from "One Day More" popped into my head when I took my first bite.
The other kind of ice cream that I've tried is a Maltesers ice cream bar. Maltesers are the British version of Whoppers. However, while America's only got the malted milk balls, England's also got a candy bar called a Maltesers Teaser, which is like a crunch bar with malted milk ball dots instead of puffed crunchy rice. It quickly became my favorite sweet over here. The ice cream bar is like a Teaser bar, but better.
In other news, in two weeks from now, I will (hopefully) be at the Heathrow Airport, waiting to board my flight to JFK. (I say "hopefully" because I'm still stressing out about getting the bus to the train station, the train to London, and the tube to Heathrow) (But that's another blog post). I'm trying not to think about it. I'm not sure if I'm ready for more goodbyes.
For the past five nights in a row, I've had dreams about coming home from England. Some of them have been rather odd and unbelievable, like the one where Avengers 2 was being filmed at the camp I work at and Samuel L. Jackson was driving me around in a golf cart, but some of them have been so realistic that when I opened my eyes and saw that I was in my room in England, I was confused as to when I had flown back. In the evenings, I spend a lot of time thinking about home. I miss the sound of my back door opening. I miss the church bells. I miss the dog. I miss my American friends. I've been away for so long, and I really miss it all.
But as much as I want to go home, I don't want to leave England at all. I'm not ready to. There are so many wonderful things here that I can't get in Ohio. I love taking the bus into town and getting lost in streets that are older than my entire country. I love going out with my friends here. I love going to the shop here and knowing exactly which brands I like and which brands I can do without. I love learning about the cultural differences that we have with England. I love those little moments when I think about how much I have changed. I've been here for such a short time, but I'm going to really miss it all.
I never stay in one place for too long. Heck, I only live in my "home" for less than 10 weeks out of the entire year! I'm always moving into Wooster. Back home. To camp. To a different cabin each week at camp. Back home for a week. Back to Wooster. Home. Wooster. Home for a month. Wooster. Home. Camp. In fact, York is the place that I've lived in the longest since June of 2011! It's really started to feel like home. I really want to stay here. And the fact that I have to deal with putting everything I own into two suitcases again just makes me want to cry.
Why can't my two worlds just combine?! I simultaneously want to live in both of these places at once. It's hard having so many places to call home. Sure, I miss the Ohio home right now, but once I get back to Ohio, I'm going to start having dreams where I'm back in York with all of my friends here. It means that I have to spend my entire life feeling homesick.
Perhaps I should stop whining. After all, ten years ago, if you would've told me that I have four different places that I call home (home, Wooster, camp, York) and that each of those places has a group of people who genuinely like me, I would've laughed in your face and told you that no one could ever like me that much. I guess that it's a blessing and a curse to have so many places that this song applies to:
"With 1,000 places I call home, I know I'm not alone."
In England, Mother's Day is celebrated at the end of March. But in America, it's celebrated in the middle of May. I was curious as to why that is, so I did a bit of Internet research to find out.
Apparently in the UK, Mother's Day comes from a day that was celebrated on the 4th Sunday of Lent called "Mothering Sunday." This tradition, which dates back to the 16th Century, was a day when Christians would go back to their "mother church" to worship, reuniting the Christians not only with their roots, but with their families as well. Today, it's just a day to show your mother how much you love her.
In the USA, Mother's Day came from a woman named Julia Ward Howe, who wrote a Mother's Day Declaration as a call for peace. In 1914, President Wilson made the day an official holiday, where citizens would honor the mothers of people who died in the war. Today, like in the UK, it's just a day to show your mother how much you love her.
So while the current holidays are extremely similar, with greeting cards, flowers, going out to dinner, and plenty of hugs and kisses, the roots of this holiday could not be more different.
My mom is honestly one of the most wonderful people I know, and I love her more than words can express. I'm so happy that the two of us have such a strong relationship and that she's a part of my life. I can't wait to get another one of her perfect hugs in another month <3
So even though mother's day is on different days and has different roots, if there's one thing that I've learned during my time abroad, it's that mothers are mothers no matter where you go. A mother's love knows no nationality.
Warning: The above link was made by Disney, so it's got the most emotionally manipulating music I've ever heard. Get the tissues before watching it. Oh, and just as a bit of a warning, a couple of clips of Dumbo are included, so my own mom might not want to watch it ;)
I know that it's been a long while since I've posted last. And it's funny, too, because since I've last posted, I've been on two different holidays to London, once with one of my best friends, Meaghan, and once with my family. Perhaps someday, I'll blog about those trips. They really were quite fun. But for now, I have something else on my mind.
The more comfortable I become in England, the more I'll chat freely with other people. And the more freely I chat, the more I realize that I shouldn't do that anymore. When I keep my mouth shut, no one knows that I'm any different then they are. The second I start talking, they realize that I'm from America. And the second I start chatting, they're aware that I'm an American.
A couple of weeks ago in one of my courses, we were reading documents about the French Revolution. The leader of the workshop was saying that the French Revolution was the introduction of a free nation to the world and that these documents pretty much laid out what human rights should be. When the class was working in small groups, I raised my hand to call him over. When he did, I felt a bit nervous, but finally said, "Back home, I've always been taught that the American Revolution was the world's introduction to freedom, and that took place before the French Revolution." He chuckled, "You would think that. But really, the French Revolution is the one that has all of the scholarship and writings about it." I wanted to mention the Declaration of Independence, the works of Thomas Paine, and Patrick Henry's "Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death" speech, but decided against it so that I wouldn't sound too American.
Today, we were reading the 1955 South African Freedom Charter. While I read it, I realized that it sounded a lot like our Declaration of Independence and our Constitution. The freedom charter even begins with "We the people." I was also going through and circling bits that are essentially word-for-word in the American documents, feeling excited by my findings. When I shared what I was doing with my friend, she asked me if all Americans have to know about these documents and if we know them word for word. I told her about how they're really well taught in schools and told her about this song:
She told me that that was so strange and that Americans really have a lot of national pride. I found it to be strange that other countries didn't have the same national pride that Americans do, but I didn't say that. Instead, I made a joke about how Americans always get really passionate about the Olympics, and the conversation drifted to American sweets.
When I raised my hand to share my USA document parallels to the Freedom Charter, the leader of the workshop got kind of awkward about it and skirted over it. I'm starting to think that these American documents which we learn about all the time in school aren't that relevant in the rest of the world.
Last night, I re-watched the Disney Channel Original Movie "The Color of Friendship." I remembered that it was about Apartheid and watched it in preparation of the workshop I attended today where we were discussing some of the documents of that time. However, while I watched, I noticed myself relating more and more to Mahree, the 14-year old exchange student from South Africa. Not because I believe that I live in an extremely racist society or anything, but because she was somebody living abroad in another land who honestly doesn't know if she's doing or saying anything that's weird. For example, there's one scene where the girl she's living with, Piper, asks her if she wants to go to the movies. Mahree is confused for a moment, then smiles and tells Piper what movies are called in South Africa. Piper laughs and tells her that that name for it is weird. I've had similar conversations when discussing card games and stuff with my friends. (Pro tip: In England, "ERS" is "Snap.") It's just hard living someplace and trying to fit in just to realize that you really don't.
This is not to say that I feel like an outcast or anything. Please don't get that impression! My friends are extremely welcoming and accepting of me. Just the other day, when we were sitting in a pub, one friend told me that I've really adapted to and blended with the culture very well...the highest compliment that an abroad student can receive. I just know that my nationality makes me feel different than anyone else. I've never been in the minority before, and it's an odd sensation.
I also fear coming home, because I know for a fact that I've picked up a ton of English customs and jargon that my home friends will think is strange and weird. I've developed opinions over here that other Americans might not agree with. I'm not the same girl that I was in December. We'll just have to see how well this new girl fits in when she gets back to Ohio.
American Ellen in a John F. Kennedy shirt on July 4th
English Ellen with a Lego statue of Queen Elizabeth II
This morning, when I was browsing around the Internet, I came upon the following post:
I thought back to my first week here, where I was making a grilled cheese and a couple of people in my house...I can't remember who, since I was still learning names and tend to avoid eye contact at all costs...were looking at me funny. I thought it was because I was pathetic at using the hob, but now, I'm guessing it was because I told them that I was going to cook a grilled cheese sandwich and did it in a frying pan.
So I snapchatted some of my friends here and sent them the above image, asking them how they make their grilled cheese.
"You make cheese toasties in the pan?" my friend Mimi replied.
"What other way is there to make them?" I asked.
"On the grill," she said.
"The grill outside?" I asked her.
"No, the grill in the oven," she sent back.
"There's a grill in the oven?!" I asked, quite confused at this point.
She sent me back a picture of her oven with the grill knobs circled.
"Then what's the grill outside called?" I asked her, even more confused.
"Still the grill...confusing," she sent.
"But wouldn't you burn yourself?" I asked, thinking about sticking your hand in the oven.
"Burn yourself on what?" she asked me. I realized that she had a point, so I replied:
"Idk. But wouldn't the butter drip?"
"No, we put a pan underneath it. Not sure what that's called," she said.
"Why not just make it in a pan?" I asked her.
"Nah, too confusing," she replied to me.
It's those little things that truly remind me just how different America and England truly are.
Curiosity got the best of me and I decided to go back to the Internet to see what the good people of the world thought about this grilled cheese v. cheese toasty issue. Please note that only a very small number of the posts that I found are represented here because most people are so passionate about this matter that they decided to emphasis their points with a naughty word that starts with the letter "f."
One point to England.
Good point, America. You get a point as well.
girlsgotafacelikemurder is the ultimate peace maker, it seems.
bakiufo is just as confused as I am.
I'm not really sure if I understand that simile, but I like the enthusiasm!
This is the one that made me give up.
In conclusion: I am now extremely hungry, so I think that I'm going to go put some buttery bread and cheese into a pan and turn it into food.
So ever since I started spring break, there haven't been a whole lot of posts. I would love to say that this is because I was too busy to post anything, but really, no one wants to hear stories about me eating sausage rolls while re-watching Sherlock. My American friends and my family members have all been messaging me like, "You should take a day trip someplace!" And I've been like "Um excuse me. Benedict Cumberbatch." However, after I re-watched 2x02 and found a tiny continuity error between 2x02 and 3x02-03, I decided that it was time to get out.
One of my best friends, Meaghan, is studying in Ireland right now. My mom told me that if I didn't make plans to either visit her or do something spectacular with her, I'd regret it forever. Now, that's a lot of pressure. I'm already majoring in English at an extremely expensive private college with no real idea of what I want to do after I graduate, so I already have plenty to regret. I didn't want to add "Not hanging out with my best friend in Europe" onto the list. So, after a bunch of wishy-washy back-and-forth planning, the two of us are officially going to London from April 10-14!
This trip is already exciting me and terrifying me. First of all, I'm only bringing a backpack and my purse. I tend to overpack, so it'll be interesting to see how I survive with next to nothing with me.
Second, I don't have a phone. My train gets into Kings Cross Station a little after 4, and Meaghan should be arriving at the station a little after 5, so I'm going to have an anxiety-filled hour of me imagining all of the places where Meaghan could be lying dead.
Third, for the first night, we're sleeping in one of those mixed-gender 12 bed hostel things. We got it for a great price and it includes breakfast, but like...10 strangers?! Whatever. We figured that we're both in our early 20s, so this is the kind of thing that people in their early 20s do. Thankfully, we only have to stay there for one night, though, because my friend Kelly is letting us stay at her place the other three nights :)
However, it's going to be so cool. I can already feel it. We're both huge fangirls, so we're going to go to Baker Street (where literary Sherlock Holmes lived), North Gower Street (where BBC Sherlock is filmed), eat at Speedy's Cafe (you know, the place right next door to BBC Sherlock's home), and stand outside of St. Bart's Hospital (and maybe figure out how he REALLY survived that fall...) I mean yeah, we're nerds, but whatever! I'm excited and she's excited, so like, it's fine :)
www.sherlockology.com/locations
Actual footage of what this trip is going to be like:
Raise your hand if you can tell how nervous I am!!!!!
I had the most AMAZING day yesterday! Like, words can't even describe how perfect this experience was.
So, I guess that news of this blog has gone around England, right? You know how it goes. One person reads it, tells a friend, the friend reads it, tells a couple of friends, and before you know it, my blog has several thousand hits and a whole lot of people who are emotionally invested in my Study Abroad experience. The number of people reading my words never really phased me before. I mean, yeah, I knew that I had a huge fan base, but I've never been one to let fame get to my head. It keeps me grounded to pretend that I'm just an ordinary girl without hundreds of adoring fans.
However, a few days ago, I got an e-mail that I had some post to pick up. So I walked down to reception and signed for my letter. I got a bit confused when I saw the return address. Buckingham Palace? Why was Buckingham Palace writing to me?! I opened it up and found a letter from the Queen of England. It read:
Dear Ellen,
I have enjoyed reading your blog about your stay in England, and I would love to hear about your travels in person. I would like to invite you to come to tea with me on the 31st of March. Please send along your RSVP.
-Queen Elizabeth II
I quickly jotted down my confirmation and booked my ticket to London.
The palace was beautiful! I mean, I'd thought that I'd seen what the inside is like from watching Sherlock 2x01, but the BBC didn't do it justice. It's an absolutely gorgeous building. I would've taken pictures, but that kind of thing is frowned upon.
The queen was a lovely woman. I was a bit shy at first, but she was surprisingly easy to talk to! I mean, we're not in many of the same fandoms, and I'm a lot more into Harry Potter than she is, but I knew enough about Doctor Who to hold a conversation about it.
As I was leaving, I bumped into Prince Harry. He smiled and told me that he's a huge fan of my blog, and that if I'd like to, the two of us should go for Chinese food sometime. So even though we don't have a proper date set yet, I know that I have that to look forward to ;)
Gah :) What an amazing experience tea with the Royals truly was :)
A couple of weeks ago, a couple of my friends and I were sitting around, talking about where we're from. I cannot remember the direct route of the conversation, seeing as how it was a couple weeks back and I did not think that anything that we said would be poignant, but at one point, one of my friends looked at me and said, "Well, you're a Northerner now," referring to somebody from North England. At the time, I kind of laughed, but now, her words are starting to ring true.
When I got to my Butler orientation in the beginning of January, they told the York kids that we were going to "go Native" in a way that our London friends would not. They said that the kids who study at York always assimilate into the culture in a way that we end up becoming more English than the kids who study at Kings and Queen Mary and all them. When I first got here, I didn't think that would be true. I mean, I love everything about England, but I didn't think that I'd "go native" like they said.
But it's gotten to the point where I crave salt and vinegar oddities instead of Goldfish. Canned pasta bolognese is better than Chef Boyardee.
Cheesy Wotsits are better than Cheetos. Eating chips (or fries) with mayo is better than eating it with ketchup. Chicken and sweet corn is my favorite sandwich filling. Sausage rolls/cheese and onion rolls are probably the greatest food on the entire planet. I'm alright without Taco Bell
Heck,
I wish that I could add to the food section, but I'm honestly having
issues with remembering what's "American" and what's "English."
I'm also finding that my language is changing a bit. I've started picking up on English vocabulary and find myself accidentally using these words when talking to Americans. It's not anything intentional. I'm not trying to show off the fact that I'm in England or anything. I just don't remember which words go with which language anymore. Like, I keep on forgetting that American's don't say "brilliant" that often, and that you never hear Americans say "brill." It's just hard to remember where one language starts and the other one ends.
I
also never imagined that I would make friends here like I did at home.
In America, I found most of my friends either through marching band or
while I was with other marching band people, so I became convinced that
unless I'm in band, I won't make friends. So when I got here, I was
like, "Oh, whatever. I'll just kind of know people, but since I'm not in
band, I won't get along with them properly."
I was wrong.
When I took this, I said, "Come over here if you want to be on my blog!" The entire room came and we accidentally recreated the Oscars 2014 selfie. There was a bit of a fight over who got to be J-Law. Tyler won.
The people I've met here are perfect. And they don't even do band! It turns out that I'm able to meet people without hiding behind a clarinet ;)
So what is the point of this post, you may ask? I'm about half way done with my time here (don't remind me) and I just wanted to assure the world that I don't miss home as much as I used to. Everything here is going swimmingly. I'm having the time of my life. I'm doing just fine.
Every term, the IFSA-Butler team takes all of its England and Wales students on a weekend long adventure. This year, they took everyone on these programs to Llanbaris, Wales. Before the trip, I knew nothing about Wales. I thought that it was just the awkward country of the UK that no one really talks about, like Kansas or Minnesota or something like that. However, I didn't want to pass up on a free trip, so I signed up to go.
On Friday, the two other York students and I headed down to the train station at 8:30 so that we could board a 9:24 train to Leeds to meet up with a Butler person and all of the kids from the Butler program who attend uni in Leeds. We found them outside of the Starbucks in the station. It was awkward for exactly 30 seconds, but once we got onto the train to go to Lancaster to meet up with the kids from the Lancaster program, we quickly became friends. I wasn't sure if I would have things in common with the other kids other than the fact that we're all American, but it turns out that a lot of us live in the Midwest, a lot of us are humanities majors, and there were even a few other people who live in the Cleveland area. While sitting in the train, we ate candy that Butler gave to us and shared more than a few good laughs.
In Lancaster, we picked up one of the two people who's in the Butler-Lancaster program and got into a mini bus to drive to Llanbaris for three hours. The bus was actually really comfortable, and the journey didn't feel as long as it sounded to be. There were a lot of sheep outside the window, which really only excited Will, Valerie, and me, because the other schools have sheep all over the place and aren't as exciting to the students who go there.
Once we got to the hotel, which looked exactly like the hotel in The Shining, Valerie and I were assigned to live in room 411. The building was a total maze. In order to get to our room, we had to go up an elevator to the second floor, take a left, take a right, go through another doorway, walk down a hallway that probably has the ghosts of two young twin girls living in it, walk through another door, take a right, walk down a staircase, walk down another hall, and then arrive at our door. It took us a while to figure out, to say the least.
The actual room was pretty nice. It was a bit small, but that was really no matter. There wasn't any Internet, but since we both had a ton of work to get done, we weren't totally bothered by that, either. Outside of our window was a huge mountain thing. I asked Valerie if the Eagles came and secretly took us to Middle Earth while I was dozing off in the van.
Our room
The view from our room. Go ahead. Hum "Misty Mountain." I won't judge.
Since we had a few hours before dinner, we worked on some homework. I cranked out over 1300 words of a paper and she got over 100 pages of reading done. With so much work out of the way, we could finally relax and enjoy our little holiday.
Dinner was amazing. They served us chicken in a cheesy mushroom sauce, potatoes, salad, pasta, and several kinds of cheesecake. I got strawberry and key lime. It was nice to eat real food that I didn't have to prepare. And for all of you out there who are tutting at me because I ate meat on a Friday in Lent...I'll do my meat fast on Tuesday or something.
After dinner, we went to the basement to do a pub quiz. A pub quiz is a really popular thing in the UK. You get into teams and answer several rounds of trivia questions. Since our team was made up of a variety of people from really good small private liberal arts colleges, including Kenyon, Wooster, and Case, our team came in second place. We got medals and a large chocolate egg to share.
The next morning after breakfast, I joined about 20 other students and two guides to go on a "hill hike." The hike started out decently enough. We walked up to a small Welsh castle and took some pictures, smiling and loving life.
The view from the Welsh castle
However, as we hiked, I quickly discovered that we were going on something a bit steeper than your usual hill. What we were hiking up is the second largest slate mining mountain in the world! Although we weren't tackling Snowden, the largest mountain in Wales and the mountain with the world's coolest name, our mountain was more than enough. I didn't have my inhaler and I only had a small bottle of water, so there were moments of the hike when I thought that I was going to die. However, we did stop a few times on the way up. At our first stop, we arrived at the place where slate miners used to live in the 11th Century. After hearing stories about how they'd chop their thumbs off and hike this mountain every day and work for little pay, I decided that I'm happy that I'm not an 11th Century slate miner.
#Dying
We also found out that this slate mine and these mountains were the inspiration of the Mines of Moria, which completely validated my Tolkien geekery from the day before. I also secretly wished that an Eagle would come to take me down the mountain...
Waiting for an ork...
About an hour into the hike, we reached the top. All of the pain that I was in simply went away as I stared out into the mountains. It was the highest up I'd ever hiked and the most physically demanding thing I'd ever had to do, but I'd conquered it. The winds up there were 70MPH and we were holding on for dear life, but everyone was smiling, laughing, and taking pictures anyway. I couldn't help but think of that one old Miley Cyrus song from her Hannah Montana days, "The Climb." I didn't understand the lyrics until that moment.
Our hotel was down there! That's how high we were! And I used to be on the same level as that river!
Such wind. Wow.
The hike back down was MUCH more tame. My friend and I briefly wondered why we didn't just take this way UP the mountain when we remembered that it's ADVENTURE WEEKEND. There were little chapels and houses and sheep on the way down. It was absolutely lovely.
When we were nearly back at the hotel, we saw another type of slate mining where people would dangle on the side of a cliff by their ankles and hack away at the slate. It was intense and lots of people died. Now, people use this area for extreme sports that also make them die, like rock climbing and doing a form of cliff diving where you have to break the surface tension with a rock first so that you don't break your legs. No thank you.
After lunch, I headed off to Caernarfon Castle, the English castle in Wales where Charles became the Prince of Wales at the age of 21. It made me feel like I haven't done anything cool with my life yet. But the castle was absolutely gorgeous! At the castle, I had a bit of time to walk around all by myself, and I loved the freedom that I felt. It was fun pretending that it was my castle and that I was a princess. I even climbed up one of the tallest towers!
Always wanted to go into the tallest tower on a castle. Time to scratch that off the bucket list!!!
View of the castle on the ride back to the hotel.
That night, we had pork in onion sauce, rice, carrots, and salad for dinner, followed by some citrus roll for dessert. It was all quite tasty! After dinner, I met some more people, including a boy from St. Ignatius, and then went down to the basement where the pub quiz was the night before for a disco. It was really fun to let loose to dance with everybody and have a good time, but since I was still exhausted from all of the hiking and exploring of the day, I left at around 11-ish to watch some NCIS-New York and get some sleep.
The next morning, we were taken to another town to get some souvenirs and explore the seaside before being shipped back to our home schools. It was windy and lovely. We got some great pictures by the sea and enjoyed some tea and Welsh Cakes, which are like round, flat, condensed, delicious scones.
The three Butler-York kids!
Welsh cakes and butter! :)
After the town, we got onto our coaches and went back to Lancaster, where we boarded our trains to head back to Leeds. On the train, a gentleman from Northern Ireland talked to (or rather, "at," seeing as how I couldn't get a word in) for over an hour and 40 minutes about everything from how to survive a snake attack to how the United States takes airplanes to another planet that no one knows about to how I need to find a good man that will cherish me to how if you clear your subconscious, you can talk to God. Although he was a bit odd, I actually enjoyed listening to what he had to say. He seemed like the kind of person that people generally don't chat with on the train and whenever he wasn't saying something a bit insane, he was actually quite philosophical. I hate it whenever people just write off the odder people that they meet in life. There's absolutely no reason to be rude to people who are just trying to give you a bit of polite conversation. What makes you so much better than that person? Who gave you the right to make fun of them?
Once we got into Leeds, the York kids got onto a train to go back home. I got into my room, collapsed on my bed, and decided that I'd never move ever again.
Although I now have to work on a couple of papers and deal with the real world, I'm so happy that Adventure Weekend happened. That hike was the coolest thing I've ever done, and I feel like I'm a more adventurous person because of the experiences that I had. It's just like they say in the Hannah Montana Movie...
First of all, I couldn't resist making a post today simply because the date is 3/3. This is one of the few instances in my time abroad where I don't have to stop and remind myself that England writes the date as DD/MM/YYYY instead of MM/DD/YYYY like America does. It's the little things in life, good readers. It's the little things in life.
Secondly, I have a bit of an "Oh, Ellen" story to share with you all. For those of you who don't know me very well, my life is sprinkled with little awkward moments that people tend to respond to by saying "Oh, Ellen." It's not anything that I consider to be condescending. It's just the only way to respond to them
This weekend, the IFSA-Butler people are taking all of the England student for a three day adventure in Wales. Although most of the transportation has already been arranged for us, the York kids all were told that we're responsible for getting the train from York to Leeds, where we'll meet up with more Butler kids. However, instead of booking my Leeds tickets the moment that I got the e-mail, I decided to sit around playing with my thumbs and reading Harry Potter fanfiction for a week and a half instead.
When I woke up this morning, I thought, "Shoot! I have to book those tickets before they sell out!" So I clicked the link in the e-mail, put in the train time that I needed, and saw that there were still tickets available to be booked. I thanked my lucky stars and booked one. However, whenever I would get to the check-out, it would say, "There are no delivery options available for this journey. Please choose a different time" or something like that. I tried and re-tried the link several times, but every time I got to delivery, the same window popped up. My mouth turned into sawdust. Did I really miss the opportunity to go to Wales because I was too lazy to book my train?!
I sent a frantic e-mail to the Butler people explaining my situation and IMd my one York/Butler friend with little "WHAT DO I DO?!?!?!" messages. For a good five minutes, I just stared at my wall trying to figure out how I was going to get to Leeds on Friday morning.
It was then that I noticed that I'd forgotten to put Friday's date into the date box and that I was trying to book a train for today that was departing the station in 20 minutes.
I booked my train, got my confirmation e-mail, and sheepishly IMd my friend and e-mailed the Butler people about my "false alarm."
Let this be a lesson to you, kids. When you're booking train tickets, the date that you intend to leave is something you want to take into consideration.
Many of the people reading my blog have been giving me similar reactions: "You seem like you're having such a great time, Ellen! I love reading your posts! I just think that you should travel a bit more and blog less about how much fun you have buying food." Well, although the supermarket is undoubtedly my favorite part of England, seeing as how everything is new, exciting, and edible, I guess that the people who say these things to me have a point. As long as I'm in England, I should probably explore more things than the cereal aisle at York's grocery stores. Therefore, since I didn't want to study abroad without traveling a bit, I decided to take this weekend to visit my friend Maria in Manchester.
Maria and I met two summers ago at the camp I work at, Camp Christopher. Camp Chris does this program where children and teens from Spain can come to camp for a month to improve their English and travel around a bit. Maria was one of the teenagers in that group and came to be a counselor. We switch around which cabin we live in every week at camp, but when she first came, she and I were assigned to live in the same cabin together, Cabin Elizabeth Ann Seton Townhouse, or East. The day I met Maria, my co-counselor Tereah and I were painting our kids' faces to look like the characters in Up. I looked at Maria and said, "Hey, do you want to be a dog in our skit? Just sit with the other dogs and woof." She was a bit confused, but agreed to do it. It was the start of a beautiful, life-long friendship.
Tereah and I were snipes.
When she left that summer, I cried the entire way home, fully believing that I'd never see my friend ever again. However, the next summer, Maria came back to camp! The heads of camp all knew just how close the two of us were, so they assigned us to have the second oldest girls' cabin, James Gibbons, together the first week that she arrived. We had a Les Miserables themed cabin, and it was one of the most fun weeks I've ever had out there. That summer, we grew even closer than we had before. I found out that she was going to uni in Manchester, and she told me that I HAD to study abroad in York so that we could hang out in England. She's actually one of the reasons that I decided to come over here. I knew that Summer 2013 couldn't be the last time I saw my friend. It just couldn't be.
I'm not sure why there was blue marker on my face, but I'm pretty sure that it stayed there for a few days.
I was a nervous wreck about going to Manchester, to say the least. I mean, I'd never ridden on a train by myself before, and I wasn't 100% sure on how to get to the York train station, so the nerves were high. My train was scheduled to leave at 11:40, so I naturally left my room at 9:00 in the morning, getting me to the bus stop at 9:20 and to the train station at 9:40. I did a bit of people watching for a couple of hours before going to my platform. While waiting, I made a list in my iPod of the different stops my train would take so that I could tick off each city as they came to prevent myself from panicking that I'd accidentally missed my station. When the train came, I boarded into my car, found my seat, and was off to Manchester.
Waiting in the York station. As you can see, I was quite nervous
Waiting for my train
#LikeABoss
When I arrived in Manchester, I was greeted at the arrivals gate by Maria. We jumped on each other and hugged like in the movies. We were laughing because it was the first time we'd ever seen each other wearing coats and looking presentable. I think it's the first time she's ever seen me in makeup, too. It was just so great to be reunited with one of my best friends.
When we left the train station, we started to walk around Manchester a bit. The city was big and scary. It felt like a scarier version of London, if that's at all possible. She pointed out a few things to me, but admitted that she herself wasn't terribly familiar with the city yet, so we were both a bit overwhelmed. We got onto a bus to drop my stuff off in her little room so that we could do the most exciting thing ever: go to Taco Bell.
The Manchester Eye: A lot less exciting than the London Eye
Manchester Big Ben?
After dropping off my things, Maria and I got back onto the bus to get Taco Bell. Now, I'm not sure how many of you know this, but Taco Bell is my life. Within three days of me being at York, half of my house knew that Taco Bell is one of the most important things to me. I actually turned 20 in a Taco Bell, and I mentioned Taco Bell on my Junior IS poster. A few of them actually sent me Snap Chats saying "Have fun at Taco Bell!" and asking me how Taco Bell was going. It's kind of a big deal.
When we saw the Taco Bell at the mall, I got rather excited. Maria had never had Taco Bell before, even though Camp loves going on T-Bell runs, so she was pretty pumped, too. She took my picture with my favorite place ever before we got in line to order our food. Although they did not have my beloved Nacho Cheese Doritos Locos Taco Supreme with no tomato, I was able to order a Crunchwrap Supreme with no tomato without any issues. Instead of coming with a side of a soft taco like it does in America, it came with something called Mexican Fries, which were quite delicious. As I ate, I felt so happy. It felt like America was hugging my tummy. Maria looked at me funny as she ate hers, saying that it didn't even taste like Mexian food at all, but I didn't care. I was reunited with T-Bell.
That is the face of a girl who is truly happy
Maria's first Taco Bell!!!
Reunited and it feels so good (until that T-Bell Regret feeling hit later)
Invest in these, America!
After Taco Bell, the two of us sat together for awhile and talked about camp. We talked about everyone and everything. It felt so good to just talk about the people that I missed so much and to re-connect with the camp side of my life.
After we'd sat for a bit, we went to walk around Manchester. It was even scarier this time around. We ran into several protests, including a rather terrifying one of people screaming "BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS!" to protest some shoppe using animal fur in their clothing. (What made it more awkward was that a lady was walking past in a full fur coat and hat...) But we still had a nice time and took some cute pix.
When we got tired, the two of us went to Nero to get hot chocolate and talk about camp some more. We stayed for over an hour.
After Nero, we got on a bus to go back to Maria's place. She asked me if I'd mind stopping at the grocery store on the way back. I was like, "Of course not!!!" We went to Sainsbury's, which I'd never been to before, and I was just as fascinated as ever as I looked at all of the food selections.
When we got back to her place, we had a typical girlie sleepover party. We stayed up late looking at every picture from camp that we possibly could, singing songs from the camp playlist on my iPod, and taking pictures together. It was something that I needed so much. I needed to hang out with someone who knows me. Someone who has inside jokes with me. Someone who I've known for a few years. It was so refreshing to have that.
The next morning, the two of us took a walk around the park by her place. Since we're both huge camp nerds, we decided that the park was camp and named every puddle after a lake, the playground after day camp, and decided that this one brick building was the courts. We also took some nice pictures and decided that that counted as our nature period.
All too soon, it was time to go. Maria helped me back to the train station, where I boarded my train and came back to York. However, this time, when I said goodbye to her, it wasn't tearful like it had been for the past two summers. I know for a fact that this isn't the last time I'm going to see Maria. Life has a funny way of bringing people who enjoy each other together, and since I enjoy Maria more than I enjoy most people, I know that life will bring us back together again.
