As I write this, from my room at the Renaissance M Street Hotel in Washington DC, my first day of Orientation is drawing to a close. I find it hard to believe I’m actually here! My last month in the UK passed with ridiculous speed – a whirl of organising, sorting, cleaning and saying goodbye. The goodbyes were by the far the hardest part. Even though I know the next few months will probably pass far too quickly and I’m embarking on the experience of a lifetime, leaving my loved ones – especially my boyfriend, Ry – was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I don’t think I’ve ever been so emotional; certainly not openly so.
Having been ill in the final weeks of school, the last week of term was an organisational blur. I was pleased with my final efforts though and am confident that I’ve left everything in good order for my exchange partner, Kristin. I was reminded of just how fantastic my department are when I was lured, under false pretences, into my Head of Department’s classroom to find they’d organised a ‘half birthday’ party for me as they won’t see me before my actual birthday on December 23rd. I was spoiled with an incredible range of presents – most of which were geared towards my travels – some lovely cards and a huge strawberry and cream meringue cake. I love my colleagues to bits anyway, but the fact that they’d done that for me made it very hard for me to retain my composure; I was genuinely surprised and very touched. My brilliant prefects, Bonnie and Sasha, also surprised me with flowers, chocolates, a card and a ‘Travelling Tunes’ CD which had been made with a great deal of thought and I certainly wasn’t expecting any of it: I don’t think I can adequately express just how much these gifts meant to me. It was great sadness that I closed the door on my classroom for the final time this year.
The past two weeks have been hectic. Obtaining car insurance for Kristin proved to be the most challenging process of the exchange so far but we worked together and many, many phone calls later we finally secured a policy. I made endless lists and methodically worked through them to ensure I had done everything possible to ensure I was ready to live and work in the US and that my house was ready for Kristin and Micaela to live in. In between ticking off items on my list, I spent as much time as possible with my parents, friends and Ry. The actions and reactions of my friends over the past couple of weeks has reminded me just how lucky I am to have them, and also affirmed that I am as important to them as they are to me – and as much as I miss them, that’s an unexpected bonus: I don’t think enough people have the opportunity or inclination to stop and reflect on the value of their relationships with others. This process has forced me to do so. I know that I will never, ever take them for granted.
Despite my growing sadness at the prospect of leaving those dear to me, my excitement began to build with each message I received from Kristin’s friends and colleagues, wishing me a safe journey and offering, in effect, their friendship to me before they’d even met me: I have, for example, been invited for a few days to a holiday home on Cape Cod in the coming weeks. Their generosity and kindness has helped me enormously: they have given me specific events to look forward to and I cannot wait to meet them.
When Monday 3rd of August arrived, I was forced to say the hardest goodbye of all. I never, ever want to experience that feeling again. Having barely slept, by the time I arrived at Heathrow I already felt shattered and emotionally drained. The United queue was huge and despite having a group booking, I had to wait in line even though the rest of the group – most of whom had stayed in a nearby hotel – were way ahead of me. We weren’t allowed to check in online and when we (or rather, I) finally reached check-in, we were told we wouldn’t be allocated seats until boarding, as during school holidays they only allocate seats to parents. Lovely. I must look somewhat dodgy, as I was the only one of my group asked to remove my shoes when passing through security (either that, or they’d heard of my dislike of any form of footwear and were kindly giving me a break from my trainers…somehow I think the former is the most likely explanation: airport staff universally appear devoid of a sense of humour). And thanks to United’s rather substantial queue, we barely had time to traverse the departure lounge before it was time to board our flight.
At boarding, we learned that we’d been upgraded from Economy to Premium Economy (which basically meant we’d still have fully functioning legs at the end of the flight. Hurrah), though two lucky sods were upgraded to Business Class. Alright for some. Having only travelled on planes with three seats either side of a central aisle, the Boeing 777 seemed huge to me – there was a bank of seats in the middle of the plane and two aisles. Typically, and as ascribed by the laws of a certain Mr Murphy, I’d been allocated a seat in the middle section, which was possibly the worst seat I could have been placed in; I like to see where I’m going! Luckily, a fellow Fulbrighter who wanted to sleep most of the way (I have an inability to sleep on anything that moves) swapped with me and I got a window seat, albeit one right on the wing! I made like a stereotypical tourist and photographed the view prior to taking off, the Lost Boy clouds part, an aerial view of Massachusetts, and several aerial views of our descent, including the Hudson river and touching down at Washington Dulles. The view was considerably more interesting than the so-called ‘in flight entertainment’ which consisted of a range of dire films and equally dire ‘music’ (ipods ftw), though I would never otherwise have known that Limp Bizkit’s ‘Nookie’ appears on the soundtrack for 17 Again…mainly as I would, under no other circumstances, have watched that film! Well, it’s trivia that *could* come in handy sometime. Maybe.
I’d been told to prepare myself for the fact that, despite having a common language and exposure to ‘American culture’ in the media, Britain and the US couldn’t be more different. This became evident to me from the moment we stepped off the plane: we were loaded on to…I don’t even have a word to describe what we were loaded on to; ‘contraption’ would be the first term that comes to mind: huge rectangular structures on wheels that appeared to have chimneys in them! We were then herded into long queues for immigration where I was tortured: after scanning in your fingerprints they take a photo. A happy bunny I was not. This wholly unpleasant experience was compounded by the fact that the immigration official seriously lacked interpersonal skills. I wasn’t exactly made to feel welcome! Luckily, my mood was somewhat improved by the fact that all my luggage met me at the airport (I’d read so many bad things about United that I’d packed all my essentials for Orientation in my carry-on bag!) and that the all-American guy at customs treated me like an actual human being and bid me welcome to the US. We finally emerged into the oppressive Washington heat (akin to stepping into an oven): the UK ‘cultural ambassadors’ reinforcing stereotypes by unanimously remarking on how hot it was!
Our transport to the hotel was some hybrid of a truck and a limo. As fascinating as this was, and as much as I wanted to absorb every part of the journey, to take in everything and store it for prosperity, by this point I was exhausted. Although only about 4pm, by my body clock it was 9pm and I’d been travelling since 6.30am, having barely slept. I’d been traumatised by separation and photographs and I badly wanted to reach my hotel room for some personal space. I think I’d reached the lowest point I have encountered as yet by this point: by the time I’d finally reached my (rather lovely) room all I wanted to do was cry. And then cry some more. I felt very, very alone and a little bit sorry for myself. I indulged in a brief spell of emo-ness and then forced myself to go and register.
The AED team, who run the Orientation programme, told me Kristin had been waiting for me (and that they love the word ‘brilliant’). I was also given some money and a Fulbright badge, Score! They helped me to look for her, to no avail. And then I heard my name. Or rather I heard ‘Samantha’, which I only really ever hear when my mother is angry with me! Despite this, I liked Kristin immensely from first sight. We hugged and chatted easily; I felt like she was an old friend and not someone I was meeting for the first time. Her friendly eyes and dazzling smile indicate she is a genuine, kind individual and I have no doubt whatsoever that she is going to fit right in at Fairfield; definitely within my department.
Day one of Orientation started, for me at least, in the computer room AED have provided for us (at the moment, the need to communicate with those back home as frequently as possible is strong within me). After a rather lovely breakfast and the most delicious illy moca (so delicious I imagine it must require some sort of health warning), we were given a lengthy talk by a collage professor on cultural differences. Lengthy would be the key word in that sentence! He did provide some interesting anecdotes and thinking points (such as comparing culture to an iceberg: it’s a person’s values, which may not be visible, which are the greatest part of their identity). This was followed by lunch and then a guided tour of Washington. The architecture here is fascinating; there are old houses preserved in their entirety yet (quite literally) surrounded by modern structures: they have become part of the new buildings. The oblisk at the Lincoln Memorial was especially striking and standing on the same steps where Martin Luther King gave his ‘I have a dream’ speech was quite a powerful experience. My only experience of the US to date is through films and tv programmes…and it all really is just like being in one! The tour was followed by a formal dinner with talks from a Senator of State and a descendent of Senator Fulbright and then a group of us spend a rather pleasant hour or so sitting outside a cocktail bar round the block from the hotel.
Having been ill in the final weeks of school, the last week of term was an organisational blur. I was pleased with my final efforts though and am confident that I’ve left everything in good order for my exchange partner, Kristin. I was reminded of just how fantastic my department are when I was lured, under false pretences, into my Head of Department’s classroom to find they’d organised a ‘half birthday’ party for me as they won’t see me before my actual birthday on December 23rd. I was spoiled with an incredible range of presents – most of which were geared towards my travels – some lovely cards and a huge strawberry and cream meringue cake. I love my colleagues to bits anyway, but the fact that they’d done that for me made it very hard for me to retain my composure; I was genuinely surprised and very touched. My brilliant prefects, Bonnie and Sasha, also surprised me with flowers, chocolates, a card and a ‘Travelling Tunes’ CD which had been made with a great deal of thought and I certainly wasn’t expecting any of it: I don’t think I can adequately express just how much these gifts meant to me. It was great sadness that I closed the door on my classroom for the final time this year.
The past two weeks have been hectic. Obtaining car insurance for Kristin proved to be the most challenging process of the exchange so far but we worked together and many, many phone calls later we finally secured a policy. I made endless lists and methodically worked through them to ensure I had done everything possible to ensure I was ready to live and work in the US and that my house was ready for Kristin and Micaela to live in. In between ticking off items on my list, I spent as much time as possible with my parents, friends and Ry. The actions and reactions of my friends over the past couple of weeks has reminded me just how lucky I am to have them, and also affirmed that I am as important to them as they are to me – and as much as I miss them, that’s an unexpected bonus: I don’t think enough people have the opportunity or inclination to stop and reflect on the value of their relationships with others. This process has forced me to do so. I know that I will never, ever take them for granted.
Despite my growing sadness at the prospect of leaving those dear to me, my excitement began to build with each message I received from Kristin’s friends and colleagues, wishing me a safe journey and offering, in effect, their friendship to me before they’d even met me: I have, for example, been invited for a few days to a holiday home on Cape Cod in the coming weeks. Their generosity and kindness has helped me enormously: they have given me specific events to look forward to and I cannot wait to meet them.
When Monday 3rd of August arrived, I was forced to say the hardest goodbye of all. I never, ever want to experience that feeling again. Having barely slept, by the time I arrived at Heathrow I already felt shattered and emotionally drained. The United queue was huge and despite having a group booking, I had to wait in line even though the rest of the group – most of whom had stayed in a nearby hotel – were way ahead of me. We weren’t allowed to check in online and when we (or rather, I) finally reached check-in, we were told we wouldn’t be allocated seats until boarding, as during school holidays they only allocate seats to parents. Lovely. I must look somewhat dodgy, as I was the only one of my group asked to remove my shoes when passing through security (either that, or they’d heard of my dislike of any form of footwear and were kindly giving me a break from my trainers…somehow I think the former is the most likely explanation: airport staff universally appear devoid of a sense of humour). And thanks to United’s rather substantial queue, we barely had time to traverse the departure lounge before it was time to board our flight.
At boarding, we learned that we’d been upgraded from Economy to Premium Economy (which basically meant we’d still have fully functioning legs at the end of the flight. Hurrah), though two lucky sods were upgraded to Business Class. Alright for some. Having only travelled on planes with three seats either side of a central aisle, the Boeing 777 seemed huge to me – there was a bank of seats in the middle of the plane and two aisles. Typically, and as ascribed by the laws of a certain Mr Murphy, I’d been allocated a seat in the middle section, which was possibly the worst seat I could have been placed in; I like to see where I’m going! Luckily, a fellow Fulbrighter who wanted to sleep most of the way (I have an inability to sleep on anything that moves) swapped with me and I got a window seat, albeit one right on the wing! I made like a stereotypical tourist and photographed the view prior to taking off, the Lost Boy clouds part, an aerial view of Massachusetts, and several aerial views of our descent, including the Hudson river and touching down at Washington Dulles. The view was considerably more interesting than the so-called ‘in flight entertainment’ which consisted of a range of dire films and equally dire ‘music’ (ipods ftw), though I would never otherwise have known that Limp Bizkit’s ‘Nookie’ appears on the soundtrack for 17 Again…mainly as I would, under no other circumstances, have watched that film! Well, it’s trivia that *could* come in handy sometime. Maybe.
I’d been told to prepare myself for the fact that, despite having a common language and exposure to ‘American culture’ in the media, Britain and the US couldn’t be more different. This became evident to me from the moment we stepped off the plane: we were loaded on to…I don’t even have a word to describe what we were loaded on to; ‘contraption’ would be the first term that comes to mind: huge rectangular structures on wheels that appeared to have chimneys in them! We were then herded into long queues for immigration where I was tortured: after scanning in your fingerprints they take a photo. A happy bunny I was not. This wholly unpleasant experience was compounded by the fact that the immigration official seriously lacked interpersonal skills. I wasn’t exactly made to feel welcome! Luckily, my mood was somewhat improved by the fact that all my luggage met me at the airport (I’d read so many bad things about United that I’d packed all my essentials for Orientation in my carry-on bag!) and that the all-American guy at customs treated me like an actual human being and bid me welcome to the US. We finally emerged into the oppressive Washington heat (akin to stepping into an oven): the UK ‘cultural ambassadors’ reinforcing stereotypes by unanimously remarking on how hot it was!
Our transport to the hotel was some hybrid of a truck and a limo. As fascinating as this was, and as much as I wanted to absorb every part of the journey, to take in everything and store it for prosperity, by this point I was exhausted. Although only about 4pm, by my body clock it was 9pm and I’d been travelling since 6.30am, having barely slept. I’d been traumatised by separation and photographs and I badly wanted to reach my hotel room for some personal space. I think I’d reached the lowest point I have encountered as yet by this point: by the time I’d finally reached my (rather lovely) room all I wanted to do was cry. And then cry some more. I felt very, very alone and a little bit sorry for myself. I indulged in a brief spell of emo-ness and then forced myself to go and register.
The AED team, who run the Orientation programme, told me Kristin had been waiting for me (and that they love the word ‘brilliant’). I was also given some money and a Fulbright badge, Score! They helped me to look for her, to no avail. And then I heard my name. Or rather I heard ‘Samantha’, which I only really ever hear when my mother is angry with me! Despite this, I liked Kristin immensely from first sight. We hugged and chatted easily; I felt like she was an old friend and not someone I was meeting for the first time. Her friendly eyes and dazzling smile indicate she is a genuine, kind individual and I have no doubt whatsoever that she is going to fit right in at Fairfield; definitely within my department.
Day one of Orientation started, for me at least, in the computer room AED have provided for us (at the moment, the need to communicate with those back home as frequently as possible is strong within me). After a rather lovely breakfast and the most delicious illy moca (so delicious I imagine it must require some sort of health warning), we were given a lengthy talk by a collage professor on cultural differences. Lengthy would be the key word in that sentence! He did provide some interesting anecdotes and thinking points (such as comparing culture to an iceberg: it’s a person’s values, which may not be visible, which are the greatest part of their identity). This was followed by lunch and then a guided tour of Washington. The architecture here is fascinating; there are old houses preserved in their entirety yet (quite literally) surrounded by modern structures: they have become part of the new buildings. The oblisk at the Lincoln Memorial was especially striking and standing on the same steps where Martin Luther King gave his ‘I have a dream’ speech was quite a powerful experience. My only experience of the US to date is through films and tv programmes…and it all really is just like being in one! The tour was followed by a formal dinner with talks from a Senator of State and a descendent of Senator Fulbright and then a group of us spend a rather pleasant hour or so sitting outside a cocktail bar round the block from the hotel.
So what have I learned so far? Everything in America is on a large scale. The people too, are as I expected: the hotel staff are uber polite and accommodating (although the bus driver who took my bag qualified this gesture by explaining that he didn’t want me to fall and sue him!) and there is certainly a higher level of customer service. Conversely, I haven’t yet had a single “Have a nice day!” I’ve learned I really like the custom of instantly refilling your drink (free of charge) the moment it’s empty (or nearly empty) too. It’s magical! Whilst chatting at the bar with Kristin on our first night, I put down my glass and glanced back a few seconds later to find a brand new one in its place – at first I doubted my own sanity, wondering if I’d imagined drinking it (which was entirely possible in my discombobulated state). I definitely think the UK should follow suit! More importantly, I’ve learned that I couldn’t have been given a better exchange partner and I think I really *can* do this…only time will tell, I guess!
I am really liking your blog :-) and you have been busy so far.
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