laurensluggagelife-blog

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“When one door closes, another opens....”

This title, along with the phrase, “all good things must come to an end”, are overused, yet solidify the notion that it’s time for something amazing to cease, and hoping that the future will bring something equally as amazing. Unfortunately for you, reader, this post will be as sappy, and possibly stereotypical, as these clichés.

Currently, that door that is “closing” for me, is that good, rather totally amazing, thing of study abroad. I haven’t shocked myself with knowing my time in the U.K. was limited. From the second I planted my super-American feet on England soil, I knew that June 10, 2017, would be the day I never wanted to come.

Just like the year prior before I left, my life was in a purgatory state. I was at a crossroads between who I was in America, and who I would be once I left. Now, it will be reversed, leaving behind the new life I’ve created for 9 months, to return to the one I’ve known for 20 years. I have mostly fears about it. Sure, I absolutely appreciated this experience for what it was, and squeezed every moment out of it to the best of my abilities. That’s all good and fine, but I’m leaving with a lot of fears since my life in the U.K. was so great. I worry that I’ve changed too much, to the point where I won’t be able to have the same relationships with my family and friends that I did before. I’m terrified that my new friendships I made here will fizzle out since I’ll be the only student not returning. They’ll change, and I’ll change, and I’m certainly not ready to let those friends go, especially since they’re so relatively new. I really hope that I’ll have the opportunity return to England, which probably makes me the saddest, but life has a funny way of always giving me what I need when I need it most.

I’ll cry when my departure date comes in a little over a month, but I won’t try to hold in those emotions, because I’ve learned that life is too valuable to not be completely honest with yourself and those around you.

So farewell, U.K., and my deepest thank you from the bottom of my heart. Despite all the tears I’ll shed from our approaching separation, in a limited number of days, you have given me the greatest joys of my entire life.

[laurensluggagelife-blog]

Asian inspiration and aspiration

Taking inspiration from Janet, author of “Asia’s Back Street Food”, featured on the best travel reporting website, I thought the parallel between her story and my own of observing the way my international friends cook, would be interesting parallel.

I never would have thought that Asia would be on my list of places to go. The only thing I knew about it was the Americanized admiration for panda bears and Chinese (that’s not really Chinese) take-out. However, I’m a major foodie; I get really excited about it and there’s pretty much nothing I won’t try.

It all started with one of my roommates, Tobi, who hails from Jakarta, Indonesia. He owns his own rice cooker, and every time I’ve seen him in the kitchen, he’s sautéing, chopping, and seasoning. The only thing I can solidly nail making for myself is pasta, and even that’s mediocre at best. I’d always ask him what he was making, how he was making it, and if he could show me how to do it. Unfortunately, writing down all these ingredients and methods would take him forever, so I’d have to just settle for watching. He learned to cook from a young age, just like his other friends, as it’s engrained in their culture.

Speaking of these other friends, my Asian food journey continued with Tobi’s invitation to have a meal with his Indonesian/Singaporean group for the January Chinese New Year. Which, my answer to that was a resounding yes, since every food I’d ever tried of his was ridiculously tasty.

Two of his friends, Vito and Edward, could serve it up just as well. They all had a different language (when they weren’t flawlessly interchanging their native language with English) of food to me, so many things I’d never even heard of but they were so excited to tell me about and have me try. From curries, to soups, and even desserts, the whole meal takes at least 2 hours to feed the lot of 10 people. This one night event then turned into a weekly Sunday night Asian dinner, where I watch in amazement every time at how I can experience this communal, cultural bonding with these people, in a country where I would’ve least expected it.

It really drives home that having something handmade by a native is truly the best way to experience a culture, instead of a more industrialized version, because you get to see all the work that goes into their daily life, such as preparing a typical meal.

While I definitely want to be back to England again, my heart and mind are ready to be even more challenged, and I think having my next venture be to Asia might just fulfill that desire. After all, Ed’s already shown me the proper way to use chopsticks.

[laurensluggagelife-blog]

NU Academic Survival 101

Academics should be the most important component of any study abroad experience. Crazy, right? (Some students may think or do otherwise, but that’s besides the point.) If you’re studying abroad at Newcastle University, here’s the most upfront low-down on how to ace the academics.

1. Go. To. The. Lectures. This is literally the easiest thing you can do, yet it’s often the most ignored one. The biggest reason is probably due to the university’s high-tech system of scanning your student card at each lecture to monitor attendance.  Yes, all of your lectures are recorded and put up on your class website, but it’s not the same as sitting in the lecture hall, jotting down notes. These recordings should only be used for a refresh, or in case you’re actually sick and can’t make class.

2. Prep for the seminars. Since you don’t have homework, ever, it’s in your best interest to keep what you just learned fresh by preparing for weekly seminars. Usually it’s just doing a bit of reading, and certainly something you can knock out the night before if need be. It will aid you in being able to answer questions/insert input in the smaller group of the seminar, and also assist you in knowing your material well when it comes time for the assessment.

3. Don’t wait to start assignments, just because you never have any homework. If anything, the fact that you don’t have homework makes it even more of a reason to not procrastinate. They don’t ask too much of you, and they give you plenty of time to get it done.

4. Ask for help, but don’t expect hand-holding. The professors can help you by answering questions you may have to make a topic or concept more clear, but that’s as far as it goes. They won’t proofread your paper and give you feedback, or remind you a lot that your assignment will soon be taking place. The bottom line at NU: you’ll sink or swim being an independent student.

1. So, how much work is it, really? It all comes down to your work ethic, just like it is at your home university. Some people thrive under pressure, and some crack under it. It’s all about knowing your learning style and what helps you get the best results, and that’s different for everybody. The bottom line most likely sounds similar by this point in your academic career: go to class, pay attention, take notes, and really focus on turning all of your assignments in on time and with your very, very best work. On the bright side, there’s a lot of good food and candy options available at the library cafe for when you’re putting in an extended session at Robo.

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Gelato, accents, and blood, oh my!

I decided to take some notes about what I was thinking and feeling during one of the days I visited my Italian family for the first time. My cousin, along with her son and sister, took my friend and I around Brindisi for the day, before having a family birthday party at night. Feel free to read on to discover some of my most inward, slightly embarrassing thoughts, and how I try to justify them.

1. This is my 14th gelato…… From when my journey in Italy started almost two weeks ago, I made it my mission to have gelato every single day. With an intense passion for ice cream, and the prices being only 2-3 euros for two scoops, I figured it was a simple, low-cost way to really treat myself on vacation. So, here I am, eating gelato, again. The 14th time, having to continue the streak. Dare I say it, I feel kind of sick of ice cream; but I’m not a quitter, and once I finish my 14th I know I’ll want more. Good thing I’m young and have a great metabolism.

2. I literally can’t stop staring at Italian men. So beautiful. AND THOSE ACCENTS. This one is pretty self-explanatory. I know I need to be focusing on my family here with me, because they are so sweet. On the other hand, some of these Italian men look like perfectly chiseled Roman statues, and I’m just one single woman who appreciates art.

3. Why doesn’t America have sights as culturally rich as these?! Brindisi is a fairly remote place in Italy. It’s in the south, near “the boot”, close to Siciliy. So it was amazing just how many unique places are contained in such a small area. We went to a little town with diamond-shaped rooves, another with closed-in corners and walkways closely resembling Venice, and another that looked like a Miami shopping district with palm trees all aligned in a row. To think, my hometown of Maryland is just 90% farmland and 10% city.

5. Italian music is super cool. I don’t know what they’re saying, but it shouldn’t really upbeat and emotional. Every time we drive around in the car, Stephania puts on tape after tape (I know, actual cassette tapes!), of Italian music. I have to wonder if these singers are their eqvilants of Justin Bieber or Beyonce.

6. Ok, next time I come back, I have to know some Italian. After a wonderful day of sightseeing, I feel slightly guilty that I didn’t make a conscious effort to learn any Italian before I came here. English is spoken very frequently by locals, especially in big tourist areas, and I hope they don’t expect me to think less of them if they don’t speak my language.

7. I just ended the day with a typical Italian party. My life is SO good right now. Pizza, bread, pastries galore. All made by my relatives. I’ve never had so much amazing food in one sitting before. Italians really know how to party.

8. “Blood is thicker than water.” I go to sleep with a huge smile on my face, feeling extremely grateful that I was able to come here and meet my family. I’ve had the most real look at Italy since I’ve done it with my native-born relatives. Although most of them don’t speak English, our admiration for each other is shared with smiles, hugs, kisses, and hand gestures. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter where we come from or what we can do, because we’re still family.

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What is a “home away from home?”

Leaving behind everything you know in exchange for a brand new lifestyle seems daunting, with the biggest worry in the back of your mind probably: “how will I cope being away from home?!” Having never been out of the United States or been apart from the house I’ve grown up in for an extended period of time was. Even though I have no hometown pride whatsoever (sorry, not sorry Maryland), a part of me always wondered if, despite my expectations, I’d actually miss my small-town suburban life.

As of month 3 of living in the U.K., I don’t. As cold-hearted as that may sound, I’ve come to define “home” in a new way that helps me rationalize this new sensation. 

Home isn’t a place. It never truly was, nor will it ever be. Home is a feeling and a piece of mind. Home is how you can be anywhere or do anything with your friends/family and feel like nothing is different, because it’s the joy you feel about life, and the love you share with yourself and those around you, that makes you feel like you belong. It’s the confidence to know that things will be different, but that it’s not too much to handle and everything will always be ok. If you are surrounded by people who want the best for you, and trust that you can live your life on your own terms, you’ll never feel lost. This emotion of “home” is impossible to exactly pinpoint, and its definition can range from person to person. I best describe “home” with a metaphor, a metaphor of that experience you get when you drink hot chocolate on a cold, early morning. Your soul is on fire with your heart filled all the way up with warmth, your mental state is alert, and even if for a moment, you revel in the fact that life can be pretty sweet.

There are some places that may put your heart at ease, or inspire your mind, but nothing external can give you the true feeling of “home” that comes internally alone. Being “at home” gives you the freedom to be yourself, and that can, and should take place anywhere you go in the world. We’re always home. It’s just whether or nothing you let yourself believe it.

[laurensluggagelife-blog]

Abroad advice...just go for it

“Lastly, don’t forget Lauren, don’t ever, EVER travel alone.” Sorry mom and dad, that’s an important safety rule, but it’s also not an end-all-be-all.  Traveling solo can actually be a peaceful experience, one that allows you to fully embrace the new surroundings in which you find yourself, and really make the most out of it according to what you want. (Disclaimer: this is not to say that you should ever go on a trip without researching first how you are getting to and from your desired locations, double checking which hotel/hostel to stay at, or never meeting up with anybody there, causing you to be in a place completely foreign to you for days by yourself.) 

London was at the forefront of my abroad dreams; so fast forward to the moral of the story of my journey there for a weekend trip as a birthday treat. I really wanted to see a concert at The O2 Arena, (I’d always wanted to see a concert there), since my favorite artist was playing there a few days after I turned 20. I didn’t have any concrete plans to make it happen until about a week and a half before the show date. I had asked around to multiple people to see if they’d like to attend with me should I actually make plans to go, and nothing worked out.

Reality set in that I’d have to abandon the idea, until I checked for concert tickets on Stubhub and found a 5th row floor seat right in front and center of the stage. Impulsively, I bought it anyway, because at the end of the day I knew I would regret it had I passed up the opportunity. Long story short, it was then difficult to find somebody to also travel to London with me just for the journey, and nobody wanted in on that either, understandably. Luckily for me, I had relatives who despite my knowledge, had been living in London for quite some time, so I was able to stay with them.

Then it hit me: I’d basically have to plan and travel on this whole journey by myself, and I’d only been in England for less than 30 days. Was I ready for this? Was this just a terribly thought through plan? I, and only I, was responsible for getting my train tickets sorted, getting to the trains on time, and getting to the concert, all in a place I’ve only been to once in my entire life.

That’s the biggest joy about studying abroad though, is that you push yourself out of your comfort zone and do things you never thought you would before. Amazingly, everything went off without a hitch. I even used/rode the London Tube by myself and never once got lost.

What went from a crazy idea turned into one of the best nights/experiences of my life. I’ll never forget that I spent my 20th birthday in London, at The 02 Arena, making eye contact with one of my idols, all with the immense pride that came from knowing I made it happen for myself. Just like with anything else, but especially from the study abroad standpoint, don’t let anybody stand in your way from doing something you really want to do, because it’s your time and you should get the most out of it since it’s fleeting. You are capable of accomplishing the outlandish things, and especially when you aren’t afraid to jump headfirst solo, those will be the memories you’ll come to cherish most dear.

[laurensluggagelife-blog]

Abroad: The Rollercoaster Reality

“Just as grains of sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.” Yes, that is a quote from an American soap opera, but the fickleness of time, and our corresponding emotions in response to it, are just the same during a study abroad period as it is during the course of life.

A rollercoaster of emotions is the best way to describe it. The beginning is full of anticipation, eagerness, and thrill. Everything is so new and different, but the desire to go into each experience with an open, sponge-like mind outweighs it all.

 The uphill portion of the ride seems to last awhile, with the end thankfully nowhere in near sight. Then a downhill slump. It could be slight or major, but it’s presence is still felt regardless, which lets fear creep into the “I’m invincible” mindset. Maybe this wasn’t the right decision. Family and close friends at home aren’t as much of a help in your everyday well-being, and that’s off-putting. Another uphill shortly follows, banishing all prior doubts and leaving behind feelings of gratitude and self-growth. The track then inevitably stays straight and consistent, until it’s time to repeat it all over again like clockwork, but it’s impossible to tell what’s after the next bend.

Without realizing it, time is your thief; the ride speeds though faster with each passing second. When the days are numbered and the journey ceases, the delve into a sea of grief as deep and wide-spread as the ocean that will now separate your homeland, and the new country you, for at least a short while, were blessed to call home, is very possible. However, once you unbuckle the safety restraints and plant your feet back on the firm familiar ground, the only thought racing through your mind is, “can I do that again?!”

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The Vatican’s confirmation of Christianity

Religion is a sensitive topic. Unless you’re very dedicated and open to sharing the message of your religion with others, it’s taboo to talk about it. Which is fine; everybody is inclined to have their own opinion and believe what they want. However, standing in the Vatican, I couldn’t comprehend how everybody can’t get behind even the mere idea of God/Jesus.

I’ve been religious and attended private Catholic schools my entire life, so the concept of God is something dear and comfortable for me. However, even I don’t think I was ready to comprehend all that the Vatican is. For two hours, in and out of room to room, you’re overwhelmed with more statues and paintings than you’ve ever seen. Every single one is gorgeous beyond belief, and you can just tell how meticulously these artists had to cultivate these masterpieces that are so infamous today. Jesus’ entire life is spilled unto each piece, from his conception with the Virgin Mary, to his bloodshed on the cross, to His ultimate Resurrection, and everything in-between. Nothing is left out, and it’s hard to not feel yourself overcome with a peaceful presence as you literally walk through the Lord’s story.

How, if all these people used Christianity as their inspiration, and were able to create work that makes you question if they were actually created by a human being, can God not exist? Everything I thought I knew about Christianity was confirmed during my visit to Vatican city. It strengthened my faith, and made me mindful to always keep my religion at the forefront of my life.

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Italian Whining and Dining

“Get up!”, he yelled, his sturdy build looming over me. His voice was bellowing, with a foreign accent making him hard to understand. Is this how my life is going to end? I mean, there are worse places to die than in Italy, but I actually did want to live to see the end of my spring break trip. I stood up slowly, unsure of how I was guilty of this terrible crime that, unbenounced to me, I committed. All we were doing was eating pasta in Chinese take-out containers. In our defense, the little corner stop that sold it had no seating inside, so there was nowhere else to go but these steps, overlooking a canal. It wasn’t a busy area of the city, and there were other groups near us doing the exact same thing.

At first, I had no idea he was even talking to me. I automatically assume every person who comes up to me in Venice will speak Italian, until I give them the blank stare that signals I’m an ignorant American that only knows English.

“Yes you, both of you, get up and go away!” We didn’t know what to do. Gianna and I looked at each other for a whole two seconds, grabbed our to-go meal that was now rudely interrupted, and hastily made our way down the street, away from this mysteriously angry stranger. Mid-stride, we heard another American, who was sitting near us along the canal and eating the same thing, scream back at the man, “what the hell? Why do we have to get up?!” “You shouldn’t be here!”, the old man cried. “Oh, but you don’t mind us being here when you take our money for tourism right,” the American retorted. Now we picked up our pace, since we didn’t want to be witnesses to a crime scene. “We don’t want you or your money! You’re ruining our city! Go back to America!”, was the reply; hopefully the last of the argument that still made no sense.

Apparently dinner and a show isn’t just an American commodity.

[laurensluggagelife-blog]

The sweet spot of Newcastle

A monthly visit to the “Great British Cupcakery” (or more frequently, who’s judging) does wonders for the soul, although not your waistline. I should know. After 9 months in The Toon, nothing can fulfill this girl’s bakery fantasies quite the same.

If you’re a sucker for huge desserts, you’re after my own heart. The GBC always have 5 delectable, monstrous concoctions of milkshakes to choose from and they’re highly recommended. Whether you choose a chocolate flavor or a fruity banana or strawberry, each is served in a chilled jug, with a handle, in case you want to try to lift the oversized drink off the delicate china plate it’s delivered on.

Personally, after trying most of the flavors, my personal favorite is “Colossal Cookie”, a cocoa lover’s paradise. A milky, richly thick chamoisee-colored chocolate shake is topped with a, yes, colossal, ice cream sandwhich. Not just any ice cream sandwhich, however, but one featuring a scoop of the delicacy ice cream used for the shake, stuck in-between two dark chocolate cookies, resembling a dalmation with all the spots of chocolate chips present in the cookies. This is all topped with cloud-like, porcelain white whipped cream, and tri-pigminted drizzles of chocolate, of all different yet subtle flavors.

 “The Great British Cupcakery” is by far the sweetest place in Newcastle, just make sure not to tell your dentist about it.

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30 days of spring break: student budget version

The most common misconception about university students is that they can’t enjoy nice things because, hello, college is really expensive, and those loans aren’t going to pay back themselves. So in the U.K., when you have an entire month off for spring break, of course it’s amazing, but also financially stress-inducing when you have a billion things to check off your travel bucket list. 

Most importantly, do not compare your journey to anybody else’s. When it’s all said and done, this is your study abroad experience. It would be a real shame to return to the states without doing (or at least attempting) to do all the things you have your heart set on doing. Some people will be able to travel by train up and down countries and spend a day in a different city before heading to the next place. Others prefer to stay put and really get a feel for the culture of the country. Both are absolutely, completely ok. 

That being said, make sure to do your research. The people who are finding those deals that you “wished you knew about beforehand”, are spending days or weeks searching around for the best flights and hotels/hostels. There are ones out there to fit your budget and needs, but it’ll take time.

Being flexible will help you out on more than one occasion. Try not to have fixed dates to go to a certain place, because often that’ll be more expensive than just searching entire months for what dates are cheaper. Yes, spring break is a month long, but you also have weekends during the semester free. Weekend trips are actually surprisingly affordable and a nice escape from the work week. So if you can’t fit a country into your spring break plans, don’t write that destination off altogether. 

This may go without saying, but it’s really important to make a serious budget and stick to it. Once your bill comes you don’t want to be shocked; you still have to pay for your food and souvenirs in these awesome new places! There are some things you can bend on and spend a little more for, but be very selective about which ones. 

In total, just be be smart and safe. Never travel alone. As amazing as studying abroad is, these are still foreign countries, and they come with their own dangers and sets of dangers just as much as America. We’re still young adults in an unfamiliar setting, and a lot of people will try to take advantage of that. 

Be safe and bon voyage! 

[laurensluggagelife-blog]

Introducing....England (and everything that goes with it)

Taken from diary entry on 9/26/17

So I've finally done it. The scariest, most unsure thing I've ever done in my 19 years of living. I'm actually living in England. I'm writing this over a week after my arrival because I still haven't been able to fully grasp the fact that for the next 9 months, this is my life. I've already been so busy day in and out adjusting to this new chapter and it's been nothing short of surreal.

The day of take-off was more uneasy than I thought it would be. Staying with family for two days and having people constantly saying that I was leaving and it would be awhile until I saw my family and friends again made it surreal. Almost too surreal. But I've been planning for months, and dreaming and hoping for this very moment for years. Of course I was ready, but was I ready enough?

I've never felt truly alone until I said goodbye to my family. We all knew this day was coming, then suddenly it was like a surprise to us all. My mom got emotional, of course, like she had been doing for months like the very protective and caring mother she is. My brother simply offered a chill goodbye, probably secretly hoping that he gets a cool souvenir out of all this. My uncle made me happy and excited about my decision when I hugged him goodbye, because he always believed that I could do it. My dad is what got me. The man rarely, and I mean once-in-a-blue-moon rarely, gets upset. But this man goes and starts crying when he gives me my send-off hug, saying through the tears, "be safe, ok". Well how was I supposed to keep it together after that? It scared me to see them all emotional, since this was supposed to be such a happy moment, although looking back I'm sure it was just a mix of pride and worry. I had a smile on my face when I turned away from them, but then I started getting visibly upset. I could feel the water rising in my eyes as I kept blinking to suppress it, hoping that the security line would move faster so I could get rid of this unfamiliar feeling of panic and be on my way to my grand adventure, which, dammit, was going to be amazing. That image of my dad was etched into my mind though, and it still is, clear as day. When I collected my belongings after clearing through security, I looked back at my family, clung to the glass window watching my every move. Still crying. Then I did too. I covered my mouth with one hand and just let the inevitable tears fall. There was no turning back now. I've never been away from them for that long. "I can't believe I'm doing this" along with "what if I can't do this" where the only phrases repeating themselves in my mind. They didn't want me to be upset though, despite their own sadness. I could see, and then hear, them saying, "it's ok, you're going to be ok," over and over again. I let that sink in for a few seconds, and knew that if I continued standing there overthinking I would dissolve into a full-on sobbing mess. So I waved goodbye, still unable to stop crying at this point, and continued to my flight gate, watching them intently until the escalator brought them out of sight.

I swallowed my distress in an attempt to compose myself and start thinking happier thoughts. "Yay Newcastle!" "I'm going to crush it!" "I'll remember this forever!" "My study abroad starts now!!" Thankfully JFK had easy-to-follow signage, so I didn't get lost getting to my gate. I didn't have any friends on this trip. I didn't know anybody. When I got over to where I was supposed to be, I searched the faces of the kids who looked my age, hoping that at least one of them would be my Loyola abroad BFF. "Are you from Loyola?", one girl asked from away. "Thank God", I thought as I made my way to her. I said yes and introduced myself while I sat in the empty seat right next to her. Her name was Hannah. The guy on my right's name was Alex, a student from an affiliated school who would be joining the Loyola group for the fall. 2 hours after we were supposed to arrive, a friend of Hannah's, Nicole, arrived, and she was just as easy to talk to. The four of us became instant friends and from that point on we stuck together in a group.

I couldn't sleep on the plane, although I told myself I badly needed to. A 6 hour flight that creates a 5-hour time difference is bad enough, not even mentioning the fact that our day was beginning once we touched down in England. Instead I decided to watch 3 movies. One was Dumbo, because I'm a child. Obviously I forgot the story, because it ironically made me miss my mother, and there was nothing I could do about it but sit in my seat thousands of feet in the air.

From the time we landed to this point, 8 days later, was a whirlwind. I don't remember much about the first day since I was so exhausted. I'm sure the average person thought I was high out of my mind on drugs because I was 100% not with it. I remember a bus taking us to our living accommodations, me loving my new room (because my own bathroom!!), and going out to a nice dinner with beautiful interior design. I sat with more strangers, although I didn't really feel a connection with them like I did with Hannah, Nicole, and Alex. I know we only met 24 hours prior. Whatever. I'm good at instantly judging people's character. I didn't really feel like I belonged with the students I had dinner with, but I just figured that everything would be much better the next day once I got some sleep.

The next day was much better. I got sheets for my bed, towels for my bathroom, and every other essential that made it feel like home. God bless Primark. I went to a soccer game at St. James' Park to see Newcastle play Wolverhampton. That was crazy, but in the best way possible. People here actually loved soccer and I loved it. Then I ran into drama with my phone company about getting my phone unlocked so I could have a British plan. I would write down more details about it, but I'd rather just forget them. The bottom line is I worried my parents to death, and that certainly wasn’t a fun conversation once I finally did get in touch with them afterwards. Between all the orientations to get us ready for classes, to fun activities with the Loyola group like a cooking class and walking aimlessly around the new city we called ours, it was already the end of the week. My favorite trip was here: London.

I had my bag packed for London days in advance, because I'd never been more ready for a trip in my entire life. A huge reason I chose Newcastle was because I wanted to see London, and I've wanted to go there for years. I woke up around 4:30am on Saturday, September 24th, so my friend group could all walk together to the train station and make sure nobody was late and missed this important train. I dressed in a black skirt with black tights and a fancy blouse, because this was London and I wasn't going to wear sweatpants for the pictures in front of landmarks I'd treasure forever. Even though I sat next to one of our British chaperons, Graham, got his England music recommendations and listened to any advice he gave me, I feel asleep for the last 2 hours of the train, which was only 3 hours long.

We arrived at Kings Cross station at 10am and it already looked like something out of a movie. Namely, Harry Potter, but my brain couldn’t process that information that early in the morning. I dragged my overpacked rolling duffel bag while carrying an umbrella, camera bag, and purse on my arms since I'm the ultimate and unashamed tourist.

Coming back from London, I had to sit by myself on the train because a blonde girl ( of whom I never bothered to learn her name since she always looked unimpressed) took my seat so she could sit next to her friends. I was pretty annoyed at first, because as a result I had to do the walk of shame down all the aisles past the crowded rows to shove my bag in the overhead compartment. I quickly got over it as I started to listen to my music, since I realized I hadn't done that since I got to England because I was so busy. Then I actually liked it 30 minutes in, because I completely tuned everything else out and that down time was much needed. Coming down from the London high, I started to think about my new Newcastle life that I was whisked away from for 3 days. On the train, all I could think about for the 3 hours was what it would be like when I walked back into my apartment, now stocked with all of my British flat mates who moved in while I was away. I really prayed hard that they would like me, and me them. I didn't want a repeat of my first semester of college, where my first roommate and I were screaming at each other 3 months in to the school year. I'm wasn't into the drinking scene, despite me being legal in the U.K., so I was really hoping these 8 or 9 freshman I would soon meet wouldn't be partying drunks.

Everybody had arrived while I was away in London. I opened the kitchen door, and there they were, my roommates. Or, rather, a group of strangers....way too many actually. They were already having a party, and all of them were drunk. After introducing myself and finding out which people really did live with me, I went and locked myself in my room. I opened Skype, and once my parents answered the call, I started sobbing and said through the tears, “THEY’RE ALL DRUNKS; I’LL NEVER HAVE FRIENDS HERE.”

Abroad lesson 1: stop being overly dramatic if you don’t want to make it obvious that you’re American.

[laurensluggagelife-blog]

How the friends I’ve made in England have changed my life

Seven has always been my lucky number. Looking around the table that’s way too small for us in the back of this darkened pub, our group of 7 represents 5 different countries: America, India, China, Indonesia, and England.

It was hard to imagine myself not surrounded by British friends. Looking back, that was a pretty closed-minded thing to think. It’s not that I haven’t made British friends; I think all of the England natives who are in my flat (apartment) are great and I’m close with all of them. It’s just that it took more convincing to break away from the bubble that I’ve always placed in my mind, where I could, or rather would, only surround myself with amazingly posh British people who loved tea and knew everything about the queen.

We’re now all sharing 2 orders of french fries (here they’re called “crisps”; yeah it gets confusing). There’s no need for actual plates or silverware; together we’re between the ages of 19 and 24, so we don’t need to pretend to be proper. Everybody’s just reaching into the pile, pulling out greasy food with their fingers in the most comfortable and relaxed way possible. We’ve all only had one drink each, but we’re giggling like crazy. For about 20 minutes now we’ve been doing our best accent impersonations for each other. My Indian is spot-on. Apparently the only American accents everybody else can do is Texas cowboy or California valley girl. This follows the debate we just had about how certain words are different in our native vocabularies. Is it “sidewalk” or “pavement”? “Parking lot” or “car park”? “Jumper” or “sweater”?

Sitting around this table has made me realize things I never thought I would, and be grateful for this moment, and all of them with these people. It’s so different from all of my American friends. They genuinely care about me, as I do them, although we just met each other a few months ago. We can make fun of each other and yet listen. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known somebody, or where you come from. It’s the character that defines the friendship, and it’s real, honest, and natural.

Sitting around this table, I’m nowhere close to home. But if I closed my eyes and blocked out the noises surrounding me, it’s pretty clear that these friends make me feel like I am.

[laurensluggagelife-blog]

Reflecting on 2016, ready for 2017....

It’s January 30th, 2017, and I’m currently halfway through my 9-month study abroad experience. Seeing all of the spring semester students arriving and settling into their new European lives brings me right back to when I first landed in Newcastle 5 months ago. Just saying that, 5 months ago, doesn’t even feel right. Every abroad alum says to “enjoy every second, because it’ll be over before you know it”, and even though my experience while still continue for awhile, I’m already wishing time would come to a screeching halt.

I remember how over-the-moon excited I was to leave. I’d dreamt of going to England (specifically London) for so long, that until my plane landed in the UK, it still didn’t feel real. (It wasn’t until a week later, on The London Eye, where I had that overwhelming, mixed feeling of joy, gratitude and disbelief.) Everything the 2 years prior to that moment was always centered around England. I knew I wanted to study abroad my freshman year, and did all my research then. Come sophomore year, I couldn’t turn my study abroad application in fast enough. After a truly agonizing wait to hear the final decision from the study abroad department, I was on cloud nine knowing that all of my “when I go to England” talk was actually a reality, and not some hopeful fantasy.

Amid all of my excitement, I certainly had a lot of worries. Since I’d never been out of the United States, or more than an hour drive from my cozy home in Maryland, that first week in the UK was a lot of constant thoughts of “can I REALLY do this?!” Understandable, but it is funny to see now how the things I stressed so much about at first, have really worked themselves out by this point.

I was worried I wouldn’t get along with my roommates. All of us actually get along really well, and we did from the start. I have 7 other roommates; 5 are British and from all different parts in England, while the other 2 are other international students, with one from Singapore and one from Indonesia.

I was worried I wouldn’t be able to afford doing everything my jet-setting heart wanted to do. Ok, that’s still partially a concern, but hello, we have an entire month off for spring break.....in all seriousness, I’ve already been to Spain, London a few times, and Scotland, so I think I’m doing ok.

I was worried I wouldn’t “fit in” or be as involved on campus as I was at Loyola, since I would be the weird international student. The campus is actually so big and diverse, it never felt like I was in an unwelcoming environment. I’ve joined a baking society, indoor women’s soccer league, and volunteered at the student TV station.

Just like with anything else, the conscious decision has to be made to look at something new with an optimistic outlook. It took a little while to adjust, but I’m still learning new things everyday. The real reason of being here is going to and doing well in classes, but it can make the day in and out of the work week feel mundane after awhile, especially once assignments kick in. Having a fresh 3-week break at Christmas to recharge in the United States truly gave me the perspective I needed to remember how much I love being a student at Newcastle. Even though I’m worried about how much I’ll miss the European mini-city I now call home come departure time in June, I know that the second part of my study abroad adventure will be just as life-changing as the first, as long as I keep living in every picture-perfect moment.