I was not originally supposed to study in England for a year. In fact, I was not supposed to study in England at all. My first choice for a study abroad experience was centered on a spring semester in Italy, a study of art, a study of language and a study of a culture from which I was descended. But, during a conversation with my parents regarding Italy's relevance to my degree, I was coming up short for answers. Being a Writing Seminars major and film and media studies minor, London seemed to be the city I kept revisiting in all of my discussions with them. Finally, we agreed on London being the best choice, and I decided to live abroad from September until June.
My flight with the group of other students left on Sept. 11, a date which no one spoke too much about when we arrived at the airport. When I landed in Heathrow, everyone was trying to be friendly to one another, despite the jetlag and new surroundings. On the way to the hotel for orientation, there was no time to sleep considering England had just won the cricket match in the finals and the bus driver was blasting the celebration over the loudspeaker -- a confusing welcome for the Americans.
Orientation was actually enlightening. During all of the presentations, I sat next to Henry, who was a history buff studying war. He knew the answer to every question about England and would mumble them before anyone else had a chance, which meant I could too. The next presenter was an older woman who showed us birds-eye-view slides of different areas around London.
She showed us where we could find pieces of the Roman wall and shared with us small historical facts that she had accumulated over her time as professor. She also gave us this advice -- avoid the Tube, and learn the city from either walking or taking the bus. Ever since, I have kept to this rule as much as I can, and exploring and connecting separate neighborhoods has become my favorite part of discovering London.
After orientation and a homestay outside of London, we took a coach to arrive at our final destination, the Queen Mary campus in the East End of London. I moved into my flat room, which was part of a new Student Village that the "uni" (their short term for "university") had built just a year or two before.
The accommodation was fantastic, except I was on the ground floor with a large window looking out into the tiny quad, which gave an eerie Rear Window look.
Classes at uni were stressful to register for, since they had no online services. Rather, I waited in long queues to speak with the department representative to see which classes were available.
Fortunately, I was able to register for all the ones I wanted -- Italian Film in the 1960s, French New Wave, Visions of Capitalism, and Modernism and Democracy. My film classes were set in their Alfred Hitchcock theatre, which was a small screening room with red plush chairs, making for easy study of whatever was being shown. Modernism and Democracy had a book list including all the classics I had missed during my academic life, a key choice.
My favorite class though, was Capitalism, which featured Professor Jeremy Jennings as lecturer, a man familiar with Hopkins, the Walters and all of the trendy bars in Baltimore city.
Being the only American in his class, I was intimidated by what A-Levels had taught the rest of the students. I soon discovered that due to the clarity of the professor's lectures, I never left class without knowing all of his points.
Before delving into explanations of Adam Smith and Karl Marx, he always tried to solidify our Baltimore connection by questioning me as to what the name of a bar was that he described, I kept throwing names at him, but to no avail.
At there very end, I came up with the Belvedere. "Yes!" he said, "that's it!" Being a poor student, I haven't yet had the chance to go, but as soon as I return to campus, I will have to hold a toast to him.
