3rd Week: Rediscovering the passion...

A funny thing just happened. Just as I was beginning to lose passion and drive, I came across something which gave me a motivational boost in the right direction. It's Monday night and tomorrow is Doomsday Tuesday so I should really go to bed, but I feel terrible about falling behind on this weekly blog posting business and just as I was getting ready for bed I remembered I had to look for a document on my old hard drive. When I opened it and started to look for the document I needed, I stumbled upon some old files I had created back in sixth form. Such a blast from the past, and actually a really nice one.

The first thing I found was list of things I had written down to do before I was 21 (I turned 21 in February so ran out of time for that one) but the list gave me such a flash back to the old me. The innocent, carefree, optimistic teenage-me that I had completely forgotten about. It cheered me up so much! I had managed to do a few of the things on the list in time, like going to a 'proper rock concert,' backpacking in Europe, and singing solo in front of an audience, but there were a lot of things on there I haven't done yet, like 'having a manicure' with one of my best friends, Helen (still a best friend now!) learning yoga, scuba diving and going paintballing amongst other things. As much as I could be really disappointed in myself for not having managed to do these things (and for forgetting all about this list), I actually feel kind of happy that I haven't done them all, because this has given me a new-found thirst for life - just what you need when you're feeling low! There are so many things I still want to do, and although right now all my time and energy is taken up on studying, after finals, although I might not have a job straight away or know what I want to do with my life, it will be so nice to be able to have the time to discover all the little perks there are to life, all the first experiences I haven't had yet! I feel like writing a new list of 'things to do before I'm 30' - this may have to be the first thing I do after finals, to celebrate the freedom.

The second thing I found was possibly better than the first in terms of helping to cheer me up tonight. It was the personal statement I wrote when I applied to Oxford. In it I explain why I was so keen to study languages. It's exactly what I needed. I needed to remember why I'm here. Why I love my subject. Why I should love every minute of this instead of complaining about it all the time. It's easy to lose perspective when you get stuck in the thick of it, and with a four year course it's only natural that at times your enthusiasm starts to waiver, especially so close to the end, but sometimes you just need a little reminder of why you chose to do what you're doing and of how much you wanted it and how excited you were to do it and, most importantly, how lucky you are to be able to do what you wanted to. That's right. Tomorrow is Doomsday Tuesday, but I'm going to enjoy every minute of it, appreciate all the insight I'm gaining in lectures, savour every correction of every mistake of my translation, and cherish every word of idiomatic french that comes out of my oral tutor's mouth; because it's what I wanted, because, even if it's hard, it's going to push me to be the person I so wanted to be back when I was still at school and because it's my passion. Like I said in my personal statement all those years ago: "Languages run through my blood. They are in my past and my present and I hope they will be in my future."  Well, I guess this the crucial time for me to try to make sure they are. On that note, I'm off to bed to make sure I can truly appreciate tomorrow!

2nd Week: Living in a superworld, with superhumans.

Second week is over and it's been a tough one. It's been a month since I first moved into my house here and since I last saw my family and homesickness showed it's ugly face for the first time half way through this week. It's odd the way it suddenly hits you. One minute you're cycling in the sunshine, thinking about the lecture you have to go to, the translations you have to remember to do, and then suddenly you hear your mum's voice offering you some good advice "you should have worn a coat sara" or "make sure you eat some fruit" (it's actually you're own voice now, but behind it lies the echoes of your mum's voice - there's no disguising it.) Anyway, you're cycling along and suddenly you think of your mum and sister sitting on the sofa at home, and your heart sinks a little bit and you get this feeling deep in the pit of your stomach. At first it's like a warm comforting feeling and you're quite happy to feel it. But, later it comes back, except this time it hits you when you're in a much more stressful situation. Or at least that's what happened to me. Homesickness mixed in with tiredness and a suddenly stressful situation can only lead to one thing: a midweek meltdown. 

Everything was going fine and then I went straight from one class to another, sat at the table, took out my paper and booklets, only to realize that everyone around me was looking at an article with notes they had scribbled all over it and they had sheets of paper with notes written all over them. It was that nightmare moment when you suddenly realize there is something you have forgotten to do. The lady taking the class was lovely, as she smiled and asked us all if we were ready do our practice oral tests and give her a presentation summarizing the articles she had given us last week. I literally didn't know what to say. There was no getting out of this situation. I just looked at her blankly and told her I had completely forgotten all about it. I felt terrible. I kept it together though and carried on with the class, trying my best to discuss the articles I hadn't read. Bad time management. Poor forward thinking. Not a good day. At the end of the class, as I got on my bike and cycled to lunch, the image of my mum and sister in the living room chatting away popped back into my head, but this time it didn't have quite the same effect. I wished I could beam myself home (like they do in star trek) and give them both a hug. Luckily, my friends were at college and they were there to cheer me up instead, after I burst into tears telling them what had just happened. (I have a very strong conscience and get upset about stuff like that.) I think maybe that gave me the kick I needed to start taking everything a bit more seriously. But I have been taking things seriously, it's just that the work is so relentless in final year. There are more classes and for every class there is work to prepare. In 2nd week everyone assumes you've settled in the rhythm of things, but actually you're still not quite on it yet.

On top of the fact that I was already feeling pretty inadequate, carrying a heavy weight on my shoulders (both literally and figuratively - I had to take my books, computer and gym stuff to college and back all week) I suddenly became aware that everyone else around me actually already seemed to be on top of it all. In fact, generally speaking, in Oxford everywhere you go, the people you meet are kind of "superpeople." So many of the people I have talked to this week have been so interesting, witty, smart, organised, pretty/handsome, ambitious, and aside from doing their course they're in various different clubs or societies and have hidden talents like, singing, acting, professional cycling, stand-up comedy or they write for the student newspaper. At home, in the small towns, you feel pretty special, pretty on it, pretty proud of yourself. But here, you realise your actually just a mere mortal, a pretty average joe. You might be talented in one specific area, but in a world of multi-talented people that just doesn't quite seem like it's enough. You go to dinner and you chat to someone only to discover that aside from studying an incredibly difficult subject like engineering or some kind of science, they are also fluent in at least 2 languages. Basically, they do what you do, plus more. 

At the same time, being surrounded by superhumans has many perks too. If you can swallow your pride and stop comparing yourself to them, crush the green giant in you and just admire them for their talents, then it can actually be a really enjoyable world to live in. In fact, after an extremely tough week, I decided to give myself a break on Saturday evening and I went to see a friend of mine who graduated last year do a stand up act in the Burton Taylor. There's nothing better than laughter to make everything better. Laughter that I mightn't have been exposed to, had I not had the privilege of meeting such a superhuman. After the stand-up, we went to a cute little traditional English pub near our college and went into a back room with a fireplace and a piano and a few third years, one of whom had invited everyone there to play some of her music to us. It was like meditation mixed with socializing. It was like going to an intimate and private gig. It was special. I was lucky enough to be able to enjoy her undiscovered talent. That's the beauty of university. Being exposed to superhumans who are all super in different, and sometimes surprising, ways. Aside from how pleasant it is to witness their superskills, it's also kind of inspiring. Inspirational enough to make me want to work that little bit harder. I'm sure I'll find a secret superskill one day, but for now I better just concentrate on the one I'm going to be examined on in a few months, and instead of comparing myself to all the other superhumans, I should recognise my own superskill and make the most of being inspired by the superhumans around me. I suppose what I'm trying to say is, we are all superhumans, but sometimes we need other superhumans around us to inspire us to embrace our superskills so that we can all become even more super. Now, isn't that super? Let's hope third week turns out to be a bit more super than second week anyway!

1st week: Slipping back into the bubble...

So I somehow survived first week, despite having somehow contracted freshers flu (I only went out once- the bop definitely did it!) It's been a long and hectic week, but to be honest I haven't really had anytime to even think about it. In fact, up until writing this blog I had pretty much forgotten about the world outside, as terribly egocentric as that may sound. I haven't watched the news for far too long and my conversations rarely revolve around anything other than work; essays, Italian poetry, translations, tutors, rowing or college life. I can feel it happening, I'm slowly sinking back into this old bubble I used to know so well. And although it's all happened pretty abruptly, it feels oddly normal. I haven't quite settled into a routine yet, but I can already tell that it won't be too long before I do. Aside from a few brief phone calls to the family, and of course the ritualistic weekend catch up viewings of the X factor and Downton Abbey with my housemates, I have completely lost sight of the world outside Oxford. There's just no time. It's only been one week and I have already wished for Bernard's watch about a zillion times. Why hasn't anyone invented it yet?!!

I'm already starting to feel a little bit like a robot. It's as though someone has just flicked a switch and my body has just gone into autopilot, cycling to lectures, going to the library, sitting down for hours reading and writing, eating, reading and writing some more, translating, going to class. I finish one piece of work, only to start another, with no time for rest or celebration in between. The worst thing in all of this is that just as they flicked this switch, my immune system also decided to switch off and I got sick. Sitting in a two hour seminar on Dante's Inferno and feeling like your throat is on fire is not a nice experience, I can tell you. I still found time to feel sorry for myself of course though and my housemates endured my constant moans very gracefully.

Fortunately, I somehow managed to get through it and by the time the weekend came around, I was well enough to truly savor that Friday feeling more than I had for a long time. The weekends are the best. Even though they aren't real weekends when you're at uni, it's still nice to know that even if you still have loads of work to do, you can do it on your own terms: where you want and when you want. Having 4 hours of constant lectures, classes and seminars on Tuesday (officially Domesday now) when my illness reached it's peak, really was nearly the death of me, and after that I absolutely appreciated the days when I had a little more freedom in choosing my working environment. Of course, after a week of acting like a machine, Friday was always going to be a wild one. It was so good to get dressed up and feel human again. Saturday suffered as a result though, so I couldn't revert back to being a human for too long. Today I transformed back into a robot again: I woke up and started writing an essay, then finally finished it and came back to the human world, only to realize it was dark and the day was done. At least my housemates keep me sane and I can live vicariously through the stories my friends at home tell me about their, far more interesting and exciting, lives. Being a robot isn't so bad though. It's a life free of emotional complications, that's for sure. 

Hopefully this week I might have a few more human encounters to write about in my next blog, to make it a little bit more exciting than this one. Don't say I didn't warn you anyway. 

0th Week: Discovering Fourth-year Minotaur Syndrome: half fresher, half finalist.

  0th week is officially over, and oh what a week it's been. There have already been so many highs and lows that I'm a little afraid to imagine what emotions the next 8 weeks will hold.

  The first half of the week was spent in a state of what can only be described as pure anxiety: worrying about what my timetable would look like this term, what my new tutors would be like, who would be in my new seminars and, of course, trying to get my head around my new status in college. You see as a fourth year finalist, not only do you feel incredibly old, but you also feel kind of lonely. I remember when I was a fresher seeing fourth years linguists around and treating them with a kind of timid respect, admiring them only from afar as they tottered to and from the library and never quite feeling that could even dare to approach them. They were almost supernatural beings to me. Now that I'm actually a fourth year myself though, I realize how ridiculous that was. 

  Being a fourth year linguist is just an extremely weird state of being. You come back from your abroad and most of your friends have gone. Not only do you not know this years freshers, but the second years (who now walk around like they know the show - and quite rightly so too) are also all strangers to you. You recognize the third years, but don't really know any of them all that well, bar a few that you met through various events in second year. So actually, you feel pretty out of the loop. And even though you might expect to feel like a year 11 student at high school, the reality is that you kind of feel like a first year, but with an odd twist given that you have already been in college for two years. Just as you had got used to everything being one way, you suddenly return to find it in completely another. The only analogy I can think of to best explain it, is that it's like walking into your family home, only to find new people living in it. You feel a bit like an outsider looking in. Except you're not an outsider, in fact you're still very much IN it. Only your role has changed. Instead of being the wild teenage youngest child, you're now the no-nonsense eldest-sister with end-of-school exams to focus on. 

 All of this means that, although you know you should focus on work, you can't help but feel the necessity to meet all of the new people in the college. Essentially, you're no different to the freshers; like them, you too have to go through all of the introductory small talk, and meet as many people as possible, as quickly as possible, so that hopefully, eventually, you will be able to walk through college and actually feel part of it again. Of course, you don't really have to do this. You could just screw it and decide you don't care about meeting anybody and just go to the library do your work, go home, chat to your three house mates and repeat this routine every day for the next 8 weeks and then again in Hilary and again in Trinity term, until finally you sit your exams and then have to learn how to interact with unknown human beings again after that. But me being me, I know I couldn't do that. In fact, I'm pretty sure that my work would actually probably suffer if I did. Already, after just one week of revising for collections every day I was starting to get restless. It's just not sustainable. I think it's super important to try and keep a balance. Just because we're fourth years doesn't mean we need to become hermits and close ourselves in the cupboard with books for the next 8 months. We could do that for the last 3 months maybe, but if we started now we would never be able to keep it up. As a result, we are forced to adapt and transform into what I can only define as kind of fourth year Minotaur; with the social demands of a fresher and yet the focus and maturity of a finalist (hence, the name of this post) - this isn't an easy balance to find.

  As if all of that wasn't complicated enough to get your head around, they've only gone and changed the whole layout of the modern language library too. It's now like an impenetrable labyrinth. You come in at a different entrance, which brings you onto a different floor to the one it used to. The books are still in the same places, but you feel like the structure of the building has changed, finding yourself somehow ending up in the same section you used to go to in second year, but having no idea how the route you took got you there. And the college has changed too. They've changed the structure of the dining room and it too has different entrances/ exits, new doors in different places and the kitchen is now on the opposite side to where it used to be. Absolute mind games. Feel like I'm in an episode of "Sliders" and have just slid back into a parallel universe where everything is almost exactly the same, but with crazy changes here and there and all I want to do is slide back home to the world I used to know. 

  I powered on in my disorientated state of mind, from Monday to Wednesday and started doing some cram revision for collections (Oxford college tests at the start of every term, they don't count but it's never nice to start the term with a fail.) Luckily, the college library was still exactly the same and I felt surprisingly comfortable and at peace there, almost too comfortable I think. Then, on Thursday, I had the dreaded meetings with tutors, which turned out to not be so bad. My timetable is looking scary, particularly Tuesdays, which I'm probably going to end up referring to as 'dooms day,' 'death day' or something to that affect. My new Italian tutors seem pretty quirky and are clearly totally passionate about Dante (the author whose work they will be teaching me about), which is always good.

  On Friday the anxiety hit it's climax as we sat our afternoon collection in French translations- which involved translating "popemobile" "cape and cussock" amongst other random vocabulary. Great. At least I guessed the word for Pope right. Or at least, I hope I did.

Then of course, to celebrate the end of collections and to try to find that balance I was talking about, on Saturday we all decided to be a little carefree and act like freshers for the night. So we improvised a bit of fancy dress and went to the college 'childhood dreams' -themed bop. I talked to one fresher, two second years (pretty much freshers to me), and a few third and fourth years (from what I can remember anyway!) and generally had a really fun night dancing like there's no tomorrow and forgetting about all that other stuff for just a few blissful hours. It was definitely needed. And, despite feeling a little hung over, I'm so glad I did it. I feel like it gave me the boost I needed to help me jump onto the next emotional roller-coaster ride to come: 1st week - when the real work begins.