Letter Home (SHINE Competition Entry)

[This is something I whipped up for some international student competition a few months ago I wasn’t planning on entering but at the last minute decided to have a go at. Didn’t win anything in the end, but it was fun to write. Thanks to all of you who tell me my stories are entertaining, whether they actually are or not.]

 

Dear Mum and Dad,

Life in the UK is good (oh, I learned the difference between ‘England’, ‘Britain’, and ‘the UK’, by the way). More than good; it’s fantastic. My main source of information on Britain having been childhood literature like Robin Hood and Harry Potter, I had some pretty fanciful perceptions which I fully expected to be disappointed. They were not.

Sure, there aren’t wizards flying around on broomsticks (that I know of), but history and culture is positively oozing from every building I see. Before I left Japan, when I would tell people I was going to Bradford, aside from never once failing to have the link between my name and that of my destination pointed out, I certainly received a number of surprised looks from those who’d heard anything more about the city. However, the slight worry that began to stir in me was unfounded. It’s lovely here. As you saw, I couldn’t help but snap loads of pictures as soon as I arrived, and not just because of ingrained Japanese tourist tendencies.

I quickly took the opportunity to do a bit of traveling around West Yorkshire, which only served to confirm my amazement. In addition to modern city features such as malls and museums in Bradford and the nearby Leeds, there’s also wide countryside, rustic villages, massive ruins, the whole gamut. It might just be the faery-tale lenses on my eyes, but I think colours are more vivid here. The sky definitely is; it’s certainly not dreary grey as often as I was led to believe.

Speaking of added colour, since coming here I’ve expanded my vocabulary with words such as ‘rather’, ‘smashing’, ‘cheers’, and ‘yoright’, which basically means, “What’s up?”. I’ve also learned to spell properly, but it seems that I don’t pronounce things quite correctly.

On that front, however, I have had a kind of success. Like many others, before coming, I was guilty of assuming there to be a sort of ‘standard’ accent, like there is in Japan and, to a certain extent, the US. There doesn’t seem to be, or if there is, it’s certainly not to be found in Yorkshire, much less this uni. To the contrary, I’ve been surrounded by a mad swirl of different pronunciations since arriving, but am slowly starting to match accents to regions and cities. Fortunately, I picked up early on that no matter how curious I am to see whether my fledgling instincts are correct, I must never ask, “Is your accent Scottish or Irish?”.

Even though I had very little idea what I’d be studying in my chosen course, “peace studies”, this too has turned out to be excellent. I’m learning so much about, well, everything, and because we’re given a range of essay questions to choose from, I basically get to study what I want. One day I read all about the Chilean coup of 1973, the next day I went from knowing nothing about the British political system to having a much better understanding of it than either the American or Japanese ones. This culminated in getting to sit in on a Parliamentary session in Westminster, which most people would probably find boring but for me was, like all else, enchanting. It was a bit of a struggle towards the end of term to finish all my essays, but I was able to pull through and emerge into the sunlight of five glorious weeks of break.

I had the most amazing Christmas and New Year’s experience because I chose to spend a chunk of that break in London, the mecca of my magical expectations for this island. For twenty days straight I walked the streets, took in the sights, visited museums, and stayed at strangers’ houses thanks to a wonderful travel website called Couchsurfing. Between that, trying out hostels for the first time, and Megabus, I was able to have this entire adventure for quite cheaply; in fact, with my remaining few days of break I did the same with Edinburgh and was blown away, again. I’m absolutely chuffed to be making friends not only at uni but ‘all throughout the land’.

People ask me what my favourite thing in London was, and I suspect they wouldn’t be entirely satisfied with ‘standing amidst broad, old, tall, new buildings with my senses wide open, soaking in the the very spirit of the city itself’. But that’s the truest answer and also a pretty fitting description of my experience in Great Britain in general. It’s exceeded my expectations in virtually every aspect, and often I feel it’s almost unfair that my life should be so good.

I suppose this is what all those hours of teaching English last year really were for. And the complexity of getting academic transcripts and bank statements from both Japan and the US. And the scholarship essays. And the risk of committing three years to a place I’d only seen the website for. Well worth it.

So that’s been my first few months trying to convince the natives how great their country is, and I’m looking forward to what the next semester, and next few years, will unveil.

Love you much, and yes, I’ll try to be on Skype more regularly this year.

-Bradley

Trip to England

[As much as I hate the word ‘blog’, that’s what this is going to resemble, since I hear you all (some) want to hear about what’s going on with me over here in the UK. So I will oblige. It’s quite exciting, although what is exciting to me may sound horribly mundane to you, but you don’t get to see firsthand the huge stone architecture framing it. Never fear, though, I am dutifully taking pictures.]

My journey began on the morning of the 14th, September 2010. I left early for the airport and went by train. Fortunately my dad had a meeting at a place near the airport so he could go nearly all the way with me and help with my carefully packed but incredibly burdensome luggage.

I had packed and repacked, because a few days before my departure I was shocked to find out that I was only allowed one free check-in. Apparently it’s only Americans that pack a lot and need two. However, for moving your life across continents, I don’t think 46 kilograms is too much to ask. But I finally managed to fit everything into one exactly 23-kilogram check-in suitcase, an overweight 15-kilogram carry-on, and my computer satchel. I was worried about the carry-on most of the way, it being overweight and oversized, but I didn’t get a single comment at any of the customs. It also had a broken wheel, meaning that I could only roll it in front of me, and only on the right side, making pulling things out of my right pocket difficult. So it was nice to have some help at least on the front end.

The trip to Bradford, England was final confirmation that this was God’s will, for I believe it was my first truly error-less international flight. Something always goes wrong. But this time it didn’t.

There even a super-cute check-in counter person, and yes, I got her counter. She probably wondered why I looked so eager to move up and, after I’d answered several of her English questions with Japanese and she asked if Japanese was alright, I practically interrupted her saying “大丈夫です!”. Unfortunately, well, fortunately, there were no hitches in the process and my bag was not overweight so I had no problems but also no excuse to diverge from the rote conversation pattern.

To my pleasant surprise, the same group of employees were working the boarding counter, but alas, I did not interact with her again. Actually that was probably a good thing, because I think she was taking aside the people whose carry-ons were too large and would have to be checked, which obviously mine was. However I slipped by; she was conveniently occupied with the traveler in front of me. Which was the story of my whole trip – hitch-less.

(That’s me extremely excited to be through check-in, customs, and immigration, with only boarding separating me from where I feel truly at home. Oh, and the fact that the cute check-in counter person is also at the boarding counter.)

I presume she was Japan’s last-ditch effort to keep me there, and a valiant effort indeed. I will miss you, Japan, but I must go.

[Do I hear an ice cream truck outside? Growing up in Japan, I never had the ice cream truck experience; maybe I will finally get that here. If I’m in the right place at the right time – I’m not quite young enough to go running out the door in search of it. Especially with these delectable dates at my side.]

(Had them for the first time in Israel and could not resist when I saw them here.)

I watched four movies on the plane, which probably wasn’t so healthy but it certainly did make the time pass quickly. I did not stand up for more than eleven hours. Somehow, I think I have the ability to make my body shut off or at least downshift its operations; no guarantees on how I’ll feel on the other end however.

(Prince of Persia was good for a video game movie, The A-Team was fairly boring, From Paris With Love was alright and had some interesting philosophy behind the too-high body count, and She’s Out Of My League was funny – the elderly gentleman sitting next to me glanced at me several times.)

I was drained in Amsterdam. I wanted to make some huge revelations about my first foot set in Europe, followed by my other, but honestly, it was an airport. Not too different from any other international airport in the world, except for the abundance of tall blonde people. And they were in couples, too. In Japan you might see one every once in a while, and if he or she is in a couple, it’s with a Japanese. So when I saw that in Amsterdam, I, like a Japanese, thought, “Wow, two of a kind!”.

(That’s me still extremely excited but also incredibly drained from the near-12 hour flight from Narita to Amsterdam. Or was it the four movies and however many TV shows?)

The real first-time observations came when I arrived in Bradford around 9:30 p.m. and exited the baggage claim. Fortunately there were students there waiting for me, so all I really had to do was throw my baggage in the van and ride along with a Romanian guy who’d also arrived that day. And I began seeing all the lovely stone architecture you find in pictures (mine, if you’re so inclined), juxtaposed next to bars and clubs on the first floors- er, the ground floors.

(I had my fingers crossed, but in the end there were people at the airport waiting to pick me up, as well as another guy who’d come in that day.)

Because I’d arrived outside of the accommodation reception hours the Romanian and I had to stay in ’emergency accommodation’ for the night. I got my first look at the university but was whisked away to some apartments down the road. I also got my first feel of Bradford weather – it is chilly here. But I suppose it’s easier to be fashionable in cooler climates. Not that that has anything to do with me, ha. Even though I found out later that they’d left a key for me to move into my real room that night, it was better that I didn’t get it because I wouldn’t have had any bedding. Everything worked out perfectly, see?

(My ’emergency accommodation’ because I came in too late to get situated in my dorm. Good thing, too, as I wouldn’t have had any bedding.)

I had a wonderful night, as I’d been up almost 24 hours, and that was my first evening in Europe, for your reading pleasure.

[I’ve only given it a cursory scan for mistakes like grammar; yes, I realize I’m falling prey to the trend of blogs being low-quality writing; feel free to point out anything, anything at all. I know it would bother me.

Oh, the fire alarm just went off. Guess that means it’s time to finish this up and go meet people.]