The Beginning - by Rachel Neer

I knew what to expect when I arrived at Harlaxton College. I knew people who had come before and I had professors who told me endless times how much they loved it here. I heard tales of lavish halls, grand entrances, and new finds around every corner of the Manor where I would be living. I heard of stories of people who had traveled both near and far. I knew where to go and what to do. Yes, when I arrived at Harlaxton College, I knew what to expect. I wasn’t prepared for the experience at all.

I said my good-byes to my family a week before I would board the plane that would take me across the ocean to a new and different world. These words were filled with joy, anticipation, and just a little bit of sorrow…all of the emotions that are expected to come when you leave everything you have ever known for the first twenty years of your life. A week later, I was at Chicago-O’Hare airport, waiting to check-in.

After going through security, which was in and of itself a task, we sat for a moment waiting to board the plane. Virgin Atlantic Flight 40 from Chicago-O’Hare to London-Heathrow would depart at 7:20 p.m., taking us to a place that we never thought we would get to go in a thousand lifetimes.

I’ll not forget the first time I stepped off the plane and into the airport in London. There were people surrounding me from every walk of life, from all parts of the continent of Europe and I’m sure from other continents as well. Taking my luggage off the rack, I realized that this was going to be my home for the next four months…and I had never been more scared. Things all changed, however, when I rounded the corner and saw Bronwyn standing there, once a stranger to me but now a familiar face that I have come to recognize in many halls, lectures, and seminars. Tags were placed on luggage and we boarded the buses with our new-found friends. The destination we had in mind? Harlaxton Manor.

I had seen the pictures and heard the stories. I knew that it was going to be fancy and elaborate, but nothing can compare to how I felt when I stepped off the bus and began to walk through the halls of what would become my new home. The sculptures were more beautiful, the ceilings were higher, and the people were friendlier. There was an air of freedom and joy that surrounded the entirety of the manor.

Later on that night, after orientation, time was set aside for exploring the new home. Secret (although now a better term to use would be “hidden”) passages were discovered, new friends were made, and there was talk of where the best place to hide from the world would be. That night was followed the next night by a nice dinner and even more exploring. I vividly remember climbing up a ladder in a formal black dress, although I couldn’t tell you where the ladder was if you asked me. Classes began shortly after that, only to be followed by a weekend trip to London. Some call it the greatest city in the world, and after visiting there, I think I do, too.

Lau Tzu once wrote that “a good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.” I don’t think that I could say it better myself if you asked me to describe my experiences in London. Upon arriving, we promptly dropped off our bags in the hotel room and set out to see the city. The group that I ended up wandering in had every intention of making it to the British Museum within minutes, but ended up wandering for nearly an hour and a half.

We were hopelessly lost, if you ask someone who really can read a map. If you asked us where we were going, we would have told you that we were going to the British Museum. You would have chuckled to yourself, maybe pointed us in a different direction, and then walked away, nodding your head in shame at our ignorance. Yes, to the outside observer we were hopelessly lost. Eventually, we made it to the museum. Along the way, however, we saw some of the parts of London that others will never see because they know exactly where they are going. We saw local businesses, schools, and hospitals. It was along one of these streets that we stopped in for a break before continuing in the brisk London air. The sights, sounds, and smells took us for a ride that we never expected we would go on. “A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving…”

This would prove to be the story of the weekend. It took another hour to find the hotel once we left the museum, even though it was but a few blocks away. Once we had our bearings, we took off again…this time, the goal was dinner. We ended up on a street somewhat close to downtown, I think, in a local pub where we learned just how to order the food. A traditional meal of fish and chips warmed us up after all the time that we had spent outside that day. A visit to a local coffee shop across the street prepared us for the long walk back.

The next day was more of the same…more walking, more sight-seeing, more getting lost, and more of finding ourselves. The day included a tour of both the Tower of London and Tower Bridge, as well as views of Parliament, Buckingham Palace, and Westminster Abbey. We got lost then, too, but less so than the day before because there were several friendly locals who were able to help us out. The day closed with a visit to the London Coliseum, where we saw the English Ballet Company perform Swan Lake. I had never seen a ballet before, and this kept me mesmerized.

The ride back, in addition to being exhausting, left me time to think. Here I was, leaving one of the greatest cities that I had ever been to. I was on my way back to Harlaxton; back to what had become so much of a home to me over the past week and a half. Over the next fifteen weeks, this will become even more like home. The people will go from acquaintances to close friends, the trips will be mini-vacations that always end back here, back where I belong.

While in London, I decided that I could, in fact, make a living out of riding the Underground every day. I can get used to walking everywhere. Plays, concerts, and ballets could very well be a part of my daily life. I would learn something new about myself every day. I would live amidst the hustle and bustle of the city, and even though that is something that I never did growing up, I could do it now for the rest of the days of my life.

While in London, I also learned a lot about myself and about what the rest of the semester would hold. I will learn more about myself than I ever thought possible. The people will become my people. The customs will become a part of my life, and I will bring a piece of the culture back with me. I will learn what it is like to be British, but even more, I will learn what it’s like to be me. That could be the most important thing that I take away from this semester.

“If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay home,” said James Michener. I think that is going to be the recurring thing for me to keep in mind. Here I am, in a foreign country, with foreign food, customs, people, and religions. I am here in a different day and age, however…one in which any religion is acceptable and there can be a McDonald’s found in nearly every city. I need to not succumb to the temptations that are there, however, and to soak in the customs, culture, and people. This is a semester that I am going to spend learning more about myself than I ever thought was possible to know. I am going to spend this semester making new friends and strengthening relationships with old ones.

I have heard all the stories and I have seen all the pictures. Somehow, I think that my stories are going to be better and my pictures will take precedence over those pictures that others have taken. I will go back and tell people of my experiences, but they will only mean something to me and the people that I shared these experiences with. This will become my home, and when all is said and done, I won’t want to leave.

Bring on the rest of the semester. Bring on the books, the schoolwork, the train tickets, and the friendships. Bring on the nice hotels and hostels. I am ready for whatever may come my way…more ready than I have ever been. I am ready to write my own book and to tell my own stories. I am ready to let go of the stories of others. This is my time…rest assured that it won’t be wasted.