Recently, I’ve been forced to reconsider my ideas about Scotland. When I came to this little spitfire of a country, I openly admitted that I had several, albeit overly romantic, notions about what I expected to find. By this point in my study abroad, almost halfway finished now, those ideas have undergone undeniable testing and transformation. (I say that, of course, with a little over two months worth of experiences left to enjoy. Anything can happen!) One such notion is the aesthetic quality of this land.
For an instance, I wistfully imagined that my Scottish home would be vaguely reminiscent of a castle. New Hall, planned by this Danish chap, is more reminiscent of a prison. Even now, I look out my casement window and see a courtyard with bland brick and walls just high enough to block out any view of the horizon. Then again, I’m not a prisoner by any stretch of the imagination. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t enjoy walking around the pleasant streets of St Andrews. Maybe if I were in a particularly romantic accommodation, I wouldn’t leave. Walking by the older residences halls - I can’t lie - I feel a twinge of jealously and am learning to cope. Everything happens for a perfectly good reason, and I really am thankful for the friends I’ve found in New Hall – as well as the joy of having a room all to myself. Truly, the people have made my living environment pleasant. Whenever I come to Europe, I either expect cities that are totally new and chic or totally old and historic. The reality is that both exist, and really must exist, side by side. Lesson One: Aesthetics aren’t everything.
Accepting Scotland for what it offers, and being grateful about it, must be a mark of maturity. At least I’m learning to take my head out of the clouds!
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