One Month

One month ago, I landed in Chester, England, to study for one semester abroad. I now had to learn how to live on my own, adjust to a new school and community, as well as a different culture in a different country. That learning is still in progress, but I’ve come to understand and experience things here, and it’s only the beginning of what I’ll discover on my Europe adventure.

I’ve gotten to see a little bit, but I still have yet to do most of the traveling I hope to do over my time here. The town of Chester itself is incredibly beautiful. A well persevered town, picturesque for the American traveler, complete with cobblestones and cathedrals. I’ve seen old castles, industrial museums, and gorgeous libraries.

I get asked a lot, very enthusiastically, “Is it so exciting? What are you doing? Is it really different?” People seem disappointed by my fairly complacent answers. It’s not that it isn’t incredible, it is. The first days walking around the town I would notice myself grinning like a fool. Walking on walls that are thousands of years old is so unimaginable and unlike anything you can experience in America. And it is different. Not horribly, but just enough to confuse you and make you look like the typical ignorant foreigner fairly regularly. Like when they ask you if “you alright?” and you have a moment of self-examination wondering if you have something on your face, or you simply look depressed or exhausted, only to realize that this is their version of the general, “how are you?” and simply stuttering over an awkward, delayed, “um..yeah, I’m, I’m fine. Um…you alright?”  Or like when walking down the sidewalk you assume you should veer to the left, this being the side of the road they drive on and all, but in actuality it’s more of a chaotic fumbling around and game of survival of the fittest when passing a large group of people on an extremely small sidewalk. Still, in terms of daily life, it's the same as anywhere else. They go to school, they go to work (often by public transportation though and figuring that out is enough to give me a panic attack still) then they go to the pub...always.  But life can feel monotonous here as anywhere, despite the ancient buildings and charming accents we Americans find so new and exciting.

Living like an adult is all very mindboggling and makes me absolutely appreciate still living with my parents. I definitely miss coming home to my mom’s cooking, and my bed which is more cushion-like versus the more rock-like mattress in my dorm room. Budgeting, laundry, and grocery shopping are not my new favorite activities, especially when dealing with how best to avoid exchange fees, and walking home with three recyclable tote bags of groceries (my calves and arms better be sculpted by the end of this trip). My mom often gets ridiculous texts about cooking certain dishes or washing certain items.

School here can be frustratingly different. I long to be doing something, but homework, in our sense of the word, is pretty much nonexistent, and instead I look forward to writing seven essays all due in May.  I also think they expect me to be in the library reading the never-ending "suggested" reading list at the end of our handbooks. So, one must learn to read and research and, in my case, begin writing essays after only attending a few lectures.

There is a lot of free time, though, and boredom leads to homesickness I find. I tend to miss the smallest things; seeing mountains in the distance, being able to jump in my car when I want to go somewhere, a long hug from a friend, watching shows with my mom (usually BBC), and hearing my dad thump around downstairs in the mornings…I almost miss my little sister leaving her bits of crafts and creations all over the house. I miss iced coffee, a really good burger, and a fully stocked kitchen. I’ve noticed recently I miss walking into a place and not feeling like the stranger or the foreigner. I long to feel familiar. Perhaps, in time, Chester will become that to an extent.

So I do miss home, and learning how to live on my own can be disheartening, figuring out the academic differences frustrating, and trip planning stressful. I have become quite dependent on prayer here. Not necessarily better at it, but in some way, God has ripped me from all that I know so that I must learn to look to him instead of other comforts. I fret about a good many things (I always have), but I no longer have my friends and family to run to in the same way. My backup is gone, and for that I am quite thankful. When I’m confused with classes, or become overwhelmed with my new surroundings, when I only have £40 of my meal stipend left for two weeks, or I’m struggling with not being able to communicate with loved ones as often as I’d like, when I am out of my depths and feeling quite alone, that’s when I realize I’m here to, more than anything, grow in relationship with my Father. To, by his grace, depend upon him.

Not for one second have I regretted my decision to come here. It’s so hard to believe sometimes that I am actually here in England. This is what I’ve dreamed about since before I can remember. Before I left I always got asked what gave me the idea to come here. I felt rather awkward trying to answer. I never had some sort of epiphany that guided me to take a semester abroad. I thought it was something everyone wanted to do; to experience another culture, to see incredible places and learn their history. Wasn’t that on everyone’s bucket list? These are things I’m doing right now, and it’s an awesome experience. I pray that I will learn and change, that I will see places rich in history and beauty, and learn more about researching and literature from a different perspective. I pray that through this experience I will become wiser, more cultured, more confident, and more understanding of how to live on my own in practical ways. But more than anything that I would become completely and utterly dependent on my Heavenly Father who gave me this opportunity. That I would learn how to surrender all of my fears and all of my joys. That I would become a person of prayer more than I’ve ever been before.
One month down. Five to go...