The Metaphorical Resonances of the London Underground

My last day in London was pretty wonderful. I didn't do anything dramatic or expensive or crazy. I just
hit up all the old familiar places. I walked around the city that I'd come to think of as mine. I said goodbye to the wonderful host family that put up with me for several months. I had a last drink at our favorite pub with all my favorite London people. I said a tearful goodbye to my roommate who literally could not have been a more perfect match for me.

On Hampstead Heath

I spent my last day with my friends Katie and Jessica. We did things that we never took the time to do usually, like stand in the incredibly long line at King's Cross to get our picture taken at Platform 9 3/4 (totally worth it). We wandered around our lovely city, enjoying the fact that we knew our way around without a map and that we could navigate the tube with little stress. We looked out over Hampstead Heath at the iconic view of London.

Last selfie with my roommate

The fourteen of us who were part of the program got together at The Junction, our standard meeting
place throughout the semester for one last hurrah. We were minus a few people who had to leave early-I witnessed the saddest goodbye of all, when my friends Jessica and Megan said goodbye in the Harrow on the Hill tubes station. To say there were tears is an understatement. Later, after our night at the Junction in which there were many toasts and an impromptu piano sing along (piano performance by Denae McGaha), the rest of us said goodbye at that same tube station.

Goodbyes at The Junction

To say goodbye at a Tube station was pretty metaphorically resonant of us. Trains taking us to other places. The Metropolitan line-the first train line that we took together and the last. The train line that meant we were headed home.

I know London has been there for hundreds of years and will, in all likelihood, be there for hundreds more. But I won't ever be able to recapture those specific four months spent in a place I loved with people I grew to love. That's okay. I was lucky.

Valentine's Day at Galross House

Emily and I!

This weekend I took the bus up to Oxford to visit my good friend Emily who is studying away there for the semester, which is a surprisingly easy and affordable thing to do. Yay for countries that don't rely on cars to travel!  The only trouble came from the fact that it was (predictably) pouring rain and I had to stand at an uncovered bus station for about twenty minutes getting splashed by passing cars. It was glamorous.



Emily took me on a quick walking tour of Oxford, but I'm looking forward to going back with class in April for a few reasons. One, the weather might be better and I can look at the beautiful buildings without trying to withstand gale-force winds. Two, I might be able to see the famous Christchurch fields which are currently the Christchurch lakes due to the immense flooding. What I did see struck me, however, because it is so different from London. The focus on buildings for academia and scholarship result in different design schemes, and even today the place has a kind of "college town" feel to it.

Winner of most unhealthy dinner ever award

It happened to be Valentine's Day when I visited, as well as the birthday of two of the girls who live with Emily (there are nine of them on the program renting the same house together). To celebrate we did what any self-respecting college students would do: we made waffles and went dancing. Of all American foods, I think I miss waffles and pancakes the most. It's not that they don't have them here, it's just that they're different, and usually a snack rather than breakfast material. My first club experience was better than you might imagine, especially after we discovered the "cheesy music" dance floor, which was much more my style.

The residents of Galross House

The trip just made me think about my program and the things that I like about it (most things) and what I wish was different (not too much). Emily's program is just so different from mine. It made me really grateful for the Fraser family that I live with, because Emily doesn't really get the full living in England experience. And it made me wish I could do more cooking. Because waffles are amazing.

My Harrow Home

Since I've been here a full week, it's probably time I talk about my living situation, since it's a big part of my life over here.  I live in Harrow, which is a suburb just north of central London. I love the house-it's very English, meaning it is tall and narrow with terrifying stairs that will probably kill me. It's got five bedrooms (and a total of 8 beds), which means it's really large for the city. It's painted really brightly, all the walls are different colors and there are bright pictures everywhere.  It also has a sizable garden (English for "backyard") which I haven't really been able to enjoy because it's been horribly rainy and cold.

My room, which I share with my roommate Jordan (who is wonderful) is the attic room, meaning it's up  two flights of scary stairs and the ceilings are charmingly if somewhat dangerously slanted. Two beds, two desks, and a shared dresser and some really great skylights. The radiators only come on about once a day though, so it is FREEZING. All the time. Coldcoldcold. When they do come on Jordanne and I bring our laptops and blankets down and nest next to them.

The family I live with is lovely as well. Patricia and Finlay Fraser are fairly Irish and have four kids, three of whom I've met. Helen is the oldest at 20, and is usually in Sheffield studying maths at university but has been home for the week and I really like her. Her teenage years were basically just an episode of the TV show Skins, however, which is very dramatic.  Grace is the next oldest (also away at uni) and the most mysterious-I kind of see her as the golden child of the family the way everyone else talks about her. Will update you on if she has a halo, ect.

Alice and I

Alice (10 years old) and Michael (15) are the two Jordanne and I have the most contact with. As in, they are both in my room right now as I type this, eating our chocolate and playing on Jordanne's GameBoy. Alice is into street dancing and Instagram, Michael likes video games and he's quite good at art. He also goes to an all boy's school in Harrow that sounds horrible. HORRIBLE. Boys are so mean to each other. I quite enjoy having the two of them around, there's never a dull moment. In fact, the whole house is always pretty lively with seven of us here at the moment and friends and grandparents always dropping by, which is really fun.

They've been boarding students from varying countries for almost ten years, which is really strange to me. It means that Alice and Michael have grown up with just random people around all the time for almost their whole lives. Some stay for a week, some (like us) for a few months. It's strange to imagine, but also kind of awesome-they've built up a network of people they know all over the world.