The term “study abroad” immediately conjures certain images and expectations. For some, it will be defined by the pathetically impossible search to capture the perfect Instagram. For others, it is a manic race to tick off as many places on the map as humanly possible in a roughly four-month period. While I may sound as if I have a callous approach to both pursuits, I actually do not. I mean, I would usually mercilessly judge, but I actually do not care. Spotty Wi-Fi does that to a girl.
But let me circle back to the original point I desired to make. Students, particularly those from Boston University, enter the study abroad experience with a set of expectations. They may range from the above mentioned goals to total international enlightenment and a European boyfriend to boot.
I’ll first address that it’s blatantly ignorant for me to say that I have none of the same goals that I mentioned above. I mean, we all sometimes do it for the Instagram (@p.h.smith, send me some love, and yes, I know that this is ironic) and I, too, am scrambling to book plans for spring break.
But, based on my current location, program and academic environment, I quite literally could not have expectations. Studying at a rural university in a small, golfing-meets-retirement community, I arrived with no idea of what a day would look like in St. Andrews. I knew the history and I’d pored over the maps, but I didn’t have personal recommendations from students my age. I was going in blind.
Part of that is due to my unique circumstances of opting out of a BU program. I didn’t have meetings before arriving, then I sort of bumbled through the mind-numbing visa process and just booked a flight with some vague knowledge of where I would be living on a map. Orientation was a process that began two days after stepping onto this strange island. So, expectations? Pretty much nonexistent. Knowledge of logistics, in terms of classes and other necessary subjects? Also nonexistent. It was a fun first week, as I’m sure you can imagine.
However frustrated and challenged I was with my first week, I finally did gain some familiarity with my surroundings. It also allowed me to create some expectations for myself. And, inevitably, expectations came with goals, at least for me.
My first new adjustment came with handling my massive amounts of newly discovered free time. Last semester, I served as The Daily Free Press’ editorial page editor, and therefore I spent every evening in a lovably dingy office in Kenmore Square. My “free” hours in the day were often crammed with whatever could not be accomplished in the newspaper offices, or sleeping, because that was what I required to be a semi-functional human for a semester.
Therefore, the transition to enrolling in only three classes, including no Friday classes and only one class on Wednesday, was more than a shock.
While I expected my first thoughts to be, “Where should I travel first?” I instead grappled with, “Wait, how the actual hell am I going to fill my time here?”
My bemusement with my transition quickly gave way to surrender. I made a list of all of the things I hadn’t achieved last semester and set out to achieve them. The list included books I hadn’t gotten around to reading, relatives I hadn’t reached out to in an embarrassing amount of time and lowering my running times. Sure, they aren’t your basic “expectations” for studying abroad. But, again, I really don’t care.
For the first time since May, I actually have slots in my schedule for free time. This semester is for me. So, if you have crazy ideas for how to spend free time for a workaholic, comment away.
