One chilly February night, a starry-eyed girl set off to Scotland for the adventure of a lifetime. One humid June day, a young woman returned from Scotland, a bit older and a bit wiser than when she began. No worse for wear, but much improved by experience.
I have always spoken of traveling in terms of escaping. My goal was to escape from my family, escape from my hometown, to escape from the mundane. In my naiveté, I assumed that an adventure of the most romantic kind would wait beyond borders. High school seems defined by fairytales of my wild imagination, picturing Scotland as the catalyst for my liberty.
Once a college student, and slightly more reasonable, I realized that studying abroad was a viable option to get me from Point A, my boring life, to Point B, a more exciting one. Although academic reasons quickly crept into my plans, I still harbored a secret passion for escapades and intrigues. Honestly evaluating my motives, I wanted to travel for the romance of it all, not the reality.
That night of February 3rd, somewhere thirty-five thousand feet over Greenland, my stomach twisted in knots. Doubts flooded my mind and despite my brave-face at the airport, I was shaking in my boots. Perhaps I came to terms with the fact that Scotland, for all its mystery and magic, was a real place. And there I was, soaring across the Atlantic Ocean, jetting to meet that real place head-on. My Active Learning Experience reflections provided an ideal way to synthesize all the changes that occurred and knowledge I acquired during my term at the University of St. Andrews.
Initial posts were generally about the, what sociologists have dubbed, “honeymoon” phase of my semester abroad. Reflecting on my travel blog, I have to laugh at my sappiness. Even so, those first few weeks were the most blissful and happy I believe I’ve ever spent. Every day I would rise with the sun, throw open my window to a frosty Scottish morning, and breathe in the intoxicating air. My idyllic first impressions were incredibly memorable. Of course, this academic venture is called “study abroad” for a valid reason. While I would have preferred to do more of the abroad and less of the study, coursework quickly pushed to the forefront of my mind and my journal.
British universities are noticeably different than American institutions. At Berea College, I thought myself to be a fairly competent student of English Literature. Sitting in a higher English module at St. Andrews, with a professor every bit the Oxford-don, I felt incredibly out of my league. For starters, the United Kingdom requires its students to be far more independent. Many people warned me of this difference but, for whatever insane reason, I didn’t feel as compelled to truly believe their reports. Though I only enrolled in two classes, the average for upper-level students, I worked harder than ever before. A novel a week for Scottish Fiction as well as Development of the Novel, my brain was tested and tried to no end. I thoroughly enjoyed connecting what I learned in the classroom, particularly in Scottish Fiction, to what I learned on the street. Scotland’s history, like its landscape, is ever changing. While Scottish authors have attempted to pen down ideas of national identity, as stubborn as the fiery Scotsman himself, the task is nearly impossible. Though I didn’t come away with a totally clear understanding of what ‘Scottishness’ is, I did pinpoint many of the reasons for my fascination with Caledonian culture and heritage. Scottish history, as I discovered, is my history as well. Scot-Irish stock which settled the Southern Appalachian region are the artery which connects, even if faintly, my heritage with theirs. I should also comment that my other module, Development of the Novel, coincided with my travels to the rest of Europe. As the novel developed, so did readers’ scope of the world. When the wide-eyed Evelina of Frances Burney’s novel traveled to London, I followed her lead. As Lawrence Sterne took his audience on A Sentimental Journey to France and Italy, I too ventured to Rome during Easter Holidays. Most personally significant, I read Jane Austen’s Persuasion for the first time and the learning environment couldn’t have been more perfect. Literarily following a character’s footsteps was truly memorable and I’ve reflected more on the Austen-influences of my semester in a separate post.
Looking back, I should have spent more time paging through books or hitting the stacks. Although I didn’t make the dean’s list or honor roll, I would say that studying abroad is the best place I’ve ever taken my academic career, but largely for extracurricular reasons.
The freest schedule that I’ve ever had coupled with the most freedom I’ve ever had largely contributed to my active extracurricular lifestyle. My days were flexible and I was able to form solid friendships, participate in some amazing events, see many diverse areas of Scotland, and travel to other parts of Europe. I believe my strongest journal pieces come from these fantastic explorations. Life, in all its beautiful intricacy, was truly the most priceless experience. My greatest lesson learned was grasping the fact that our lives, each and every day of them, are an adventure. Though I think everyone should grab a passport and travel, with the right perspective, every new place whether around the world or around the corner, is ripe with opportunities. The challenge is to explore where you’re placed or, as my mother says, bloom where you’re planted. I’ll never know why I had to venture over three-thousand miles away from home to learn these lessons, but thankfully Someone infinitely wiser than I prepared the journey.
Granted, it’s no coincidence that Scotland needed to be my training ground. It’s hard to talk about Scotland in any other way than with the greatest fondness and sentimentality. Now, I have an even greater regard for all things Scottish because of how naturally I created a life there. Maybe because I knew my time in Scotland was limited, I dug my roots in as quickly as possible. The community I was privileged to become a part of in St. Andrews now seems like my second home. My friends are from all parts of the United Kingdom and North America, as young as three and as old as seventy. I met fellow students, working men, and retired women. As my departure date drew nearer, love poured out in the form of dinners, cards, and gracious hospitality. True bonding had evidently taken place. Now, I’m very grateful and blessed to take part in an international community. What a treat to know I can arrive at London Gatwick or Glasgow International Airport and always have a place to stay!
Before my semester abroad, I never would have thought of myself as a wanderer. Unknowingly, I’ve assumed this nomadic lifestyle. Adolescence seems to breed restlessness. We intuitively know that seeing the world is the means to acquire knowledge. What I appreciated most about studying abroad is that my wanderings had a purpose. Rather than running away or messing around, I was given a goal for which to strive. Journal entries have faithfully charted my progression of maturity, making this entire process far more profound than it otherwise would have been. I look forward to seeing how studying abroad will continue to create a more enriched and awestruck individual.
