In mid-July, I booked
my one-way ticket to London. I had just applied for my Visa, as I would be
needing this if I wanted to have any chance at ever becoming a citizen of
Europe. although I spent the entire day of summer working and making
preparations to say my final farewell, the fateful September day still came far
sooner than I had anticipated. this would be the day that I would depart for
the better part of 2 years, save the occasional visit to friends and family. Call
a trial separation, if you will, from the land that I had called home for the
first 23 years of my life.
Waiting in the airport
for several hours leading up to the flight was enough to drive anybody mad.
However, I would soon arrive in England for the first time, after a six-hour
long sleep-deprived layover in Reykjavik, and nearly forty hours of
sleeplessness. Ten hours and five time zones later, I would be landing in
Heathrow Airport for the first time ever, to begin the beginning of the rest of
my life.
I met my first
roommate, Austin, barely an hour into my first journey in Europe’s third
biggest city (right behind St. Petersburg and Istanbul). He was happy to see me,
and we embraced for a solid minute. We had no idea how to navigate public
transport at this time, though, so we ended up taking whatever bus we Thought
would get us to campus in a decent enough fashion.
After getting off at a
random stop, still a twenty-minute walk from campus, we decided to call an
Uber. It was dark out, and somebody had thrown an egg in our direction (which
shattered against the bus stop’s window), so we wanted to get out of there
fast. Security had no idea who we were upon arrival, but we were able to get a
spare room until ours were ready in the morning. Austin crashed on the floor
with his sheets, and I passed out for nine straight hours on my bed.
When I woke, I
realized that I would be beginning the next step in the journey I call my life
– I now spent the first night in my new home base for at least the next two
years.
