Let me give you the low down on my school week:
- Monday: No class
- Tuesday: Human Geography, followed by a seminar
- Wednesday: Educating the Human Brain, followed by Social Constructions of Britain
- Thursday: No class
- Friday: Biology (all morning)
Anyway, I was sitting in Tuesday afternoon geography listening to the lecturer talk about what makes a place. "Place" as a concept here - a "place" could be your seat at the dining room table just as much as your home town is a "place." He showed us pictures of some of his favorite places, and asked us to think about what some of our favorite places are. I thought about mine:
- Duluth, Minnesota
- My basement at home
- The bike trails back home
I was homesick.
I missed Netflix on the worn couches in my basement. I missed the exertion of biking up and down hills. And I missed waking up near the awe-inspiring majesty of Lake Superior.
The feeling soon passed, but I was left considering how "home" had changed over the last year and a half.
Last year, as myself and hundreds of other freshmen settled in to college life, I would occasionally hear someone refer to their dorm or floor as "home." And this was always weird to me. I mean, yeah, it kind of was - it's where we slept and kept our junk. But to me, it was never "home." My room here has a much stronger claim to the term - considering I have my own bathroom and kitchen, and I have to do my own shopping and everything - but it still isn't "home."
Home to me is still the place where I grew up, all the way back across the Atlantic. I know this will eventually change, and that it's starting to change already. But they don't call it "homesick" for nothing.
And now for something completely different!
My first few weeks have been full of... well, stuff. Lots of stuff. I've taken three major trips: a walk through the Malvern Hills, the Natural History Museum in London, and the Lake District near the Scotland border.
The Malvern Hills were apparently J.R.R. Tolkein's inspiration for the Shire in The Hobbit. Unfortunately, I didn't see any Hobbits on my walk, but the view was pretty inspiring.
it couldn't have been a real one.
twelfth highest hill in England. I didn't get many pictures of this trip, but I made sure to get a picture of the old man as a souvenir: