I
write tonight, fully into my internship and my classes, in a rare moment of
relaxation from the hectic pace of London life, or at least life on this
program. Though I’ve been busy, I couldn’t have asked for a better four days.
On Sunday, everyone in our program went to Greenwich amidst a giant snowstorm
(well, maybe not giant, but definitely the biggest one that I’ve been a part of).
Greenwich, I believe, used to be a small rural town outside of London, but it
was absorbed as London grew. From our time there on Sunday, I got the sense of
a posh suburban town, replete with quaint shops, a small downtown area, and
plenty of park space. It was nice, and while I’ve loved my time in London so
far, I still enjoyed getting out into nature and roaming about vast open
spaces.
I
find it amazing that a snowy day seems to bring out the kid in all of us. I got
in constant snowball fights, slid around the ice, and even got down in the snow
and made my first snow angel! Not coincidentally, I had some of the most fun
that day as I’ve had in months. It seems that we often forget some of the
simplest pleasures in life: games with friends, enjoying the outdoors, laughing
at ourselves, smiling too much. Amidst everything else I’m doing this semester,
I hope I can find some days to just goof off and marvel at the beauty of
existing in the moment.
After
I got back to Chapel Hill, one of my best friends from Chapel Hill, Meg, got in
from Oxford, and crashed in my flat for three nights en route to Amsterdam for
another study abroad program. While she was here, our mutual friend Isaac often
stopped by the flat with his friend Elston. Isaac is another Chapel Hill person
who was in London for a few days as part of his post-grad intercontinental
adventures, and Elston is an actual Londoner who became friendly with Isaac
when he studied in Chapel Hill for a semester. None of us had seen much of each
other last semester, so the visit turned into a reunion of sorts—lots of
catching up and filling in, an endless supply of new stories, and some old ones
thrown in for good measure. We did a lot of fun things over the last few days,
but I think the essence of Meg and Isaac’s stay for me was summed up in a
moment on Monday night.
Per
my flatmates’ suggestion, we had gone to a fish-and-chips-type restaurant in
Bloomsbury. There, we ended up in a secluded booth with a solitary candle in
the middle. I was just finishing off a phenomenal English beer, and the end of
some story swapping saw a quick break in conversation. I was full with good
food, and I was feeling especially close to these three people to whom I had
opened up about my goals, fears, and shortcomings. I looked around the table
wearing this sly smile on my face, knowing that years down the road, I’d
remember this night, and knowing that I was lucky to share my life, at least
for the time being, with the people sitting in that very booth. I think one of
the great things about being abroad is that I’ve some time and perspective to
look at my life back home without being distracted by being there. Sometimes, I’ve
found that I maybe have been coming up short when I thought I was doing fine,
but in moments like the one in the booth, I found that I had something special
in something that can be as ubiquitous as friendship. And that means a lot.
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