3 months ago, I came to the UK to fulfill my dream of “studying in another country”. Honestly, this journey, to a 32 year old guy who had stayed with his family for nearly 31 and a half year like me, was a huge change. Physically and spiritually.
I still remember the first time I set my foot on Heathrow airport on September 13th. I could not believe that it was real. But the more unbelievable thing was that I did not feel strange or shocked at all. Part of me felt like I’d been here before. Part of me sensed something really familiar, something that had left me now turning back.
Standing in a queue before crossing the borderline in front of a check-in desk, I felt nervous but calm. Nervous because I did not know what would wait for me in there, but calm because I’d waited for this for so long. I felt like I am a racing horse, crawling his leg on to the ground, waiting for the fence to fall down, so I could run the full throttle to discover the amazing grass field waiting ahead of me. And it did not let me down.
But having said that, I did not mean I did go through my first 3 months in London just like a rich prince slowly jogging here, playing there on a big ass white horse in Cinderella story. I did face some struggle, I did feel stuck, I did feel panic that I had to send my teacher an email asking for guidance (and she was so so nice to help!) And in the end, everything did turn out O.K for me.
Now it’s time to put my pens and notebook aside, it’s time to sleep in more, and it’s time to enjoy the joy of cooking everyday, when the worry of homework and assignments does not crawl into bed with me every night.
It’s time to wake up with a cup of coffee and a nice book
It’s time to go around London
It’s time to test my inner creativity
And it’s time to look forward to Christmas.
Good bye, Mr.First Semester!