Thursday 25 September 2014

En skotsk dag

Hverdagen er i gang, efteråret er over os og undervisningen er begyndt - og jeg kan nu officielt kalde mig universitetsstuderende i det skotske! 

Jeg har været very much MIA siden jeg flyttede, og hvor jeg, da jeg var i Sydamerika, plejede at have tid til at skrive udførlige og detajlerede beskrivelser af mine oplevelser, skrive blog og generelt være mere 'online', har jeg absolut ingen tid her. Dette indlæg er skrevet halv to torsdag morgen og den eneste grund til, at jeg netop nu har tid, er at der er fest lige udenfor mit vindue. Hverdag er den nye weekend.. Men I ved jo alle sammen forhåbentlig godt, at det jo ikke er fordi, at jeg ikke vil fortælle, hvad jeg laver. Jeg vil gerne have, at alle udenfor min lille nye verden, ved hvad der sker. Men tiden går stærkere end nogensinde og.. ja, jeg behøver vel ikke flere argumenterende undskyldninger. Men nu skal det være! Så, velkommen til det, I alle har ventet på; En 'helt almindelig' dag i mit skotske liv! Hvad kan jeg konkludere her, nu hvor jeg har været her i 2,5 uge?


Jeg starter hårdt ud med mandag morgen, jeg lægger ud med en forelæsning i Latinamerikas historie klokken 9. Nine am sharp. Det er ikke let, skal jeg lige hilse at sige. Men det, at det er vanvittigt spændende, gør det dog lidt lettere at komme ud af fjerene. De fleste af mine venner starter ugen ud mandag morgen og vi skal altså have credit for det - Aberdeen har et notorisk og meget gråt skydække, der med vilje prøver at gøre livet surt for os. Mandag morgen. Behøver jeg sige mere?


Men mandag er ikke kun hård, fordi mandag er mandag, men også fordi at mandag er den dag, hvor jeg har allermest undervisning - 4 forelæsninger og 1 tutorial. Resten er ugen er legende let, hvis jeg sammenligner med mandag. Jeg har 4 fag - Latinamerikansk historie, internationale relationer, antropologi og filosofi - Jeg har næsten helt selv fået lov at bestemme, hvordan min ugestruktur skal se ud, da jeg selv har skullet vælge mine fag. Der er ingen skabelon her, jeg skal selv i gang med karton og papir. Min dag indeholder normalt et par mellemtimer, som jeg enten bruger på vores fantastiske bibliotek, hvis indretning er spiralformet eller på at chille med nogle af de dejlige mennesker, jeg kan støde ind i på campus. Når dagen er slut, går jeg hjem igennem Seaton Park eller King Street og tænker på, hvor heldig jeg er, at jeg bor her. Dette mønster gentager sig 4 gange om ugen. Og så er det her I tænker, jamen Sofie, er der ikke 5 undervisningsdage på en uge? Til det kan jeg fortælle jer, at det begreb ikke længere eksisterer i min ordbog. Onsdag er undervisningsfri dag og hvis jeg var bare lidt mindre civilisereret, lå jeg i sengen hele dagen. Men så er det, at et andet meget vigtig element af min nye hverdag kommer ind. Svømning! Jeg er på svømmeholdet. Svømning har så længe jeg kan huske været en del af min hverdag, men mit sabbatår satte en stopper for det. Ikke mere! Jeg er tilbage i vandet og jeg kan mærke, at hvis man en gang har været svømmer, så er man det til evig tid. Al universitetsarbejdet bliver glemt, så snart jeg hopper i og det er et tiltrængt pusterum blandt forelæsninger, tutorials, essays og de 40 sider om globaliseringen af verdenspolitikken, jeg egentlig skulle læse til imorgen..For at vende tilbage til tråden, så har jeg lige afsløret en meget vigtig del af mit liv; onsdag er fridagen. Jeg er koloenormt meget fan af det, og fridagen gælder næsten for os alle sammen - det er skønt! Ugen er lidt lettere at overskue, når jeg nærmest kan holde weekend fra tirsdag eftermiddag. *winkey smiley*Men når det en sjælden gang ikke er onsdag og jeg rent faktisk har forpligtelser, så sker der også, at jeg åbner en bog, når jeg kommer hjem fra universitetet. Eller tager ind til byen med mine venner. Ellers også dejser jeg bare om på min seng. Det sker også ret tit. Jeg har ikke helt fået styr på, hvordan jeg bedst organiserer min tid, så det ender lidt for ofte med, at jeg sidder til klokken 2 om natten og laver lektier. De tider er dog ovre snart, for jeg kan allerede mærke, hvordan jeg lige så stille får styr på, hvordan man prioriterer tiden bedst. Hvorfor er det lige, at jeg hader kaffe og elsker at sove? Det er ikke kompatibelt!

Men når klokken nærmer sig aftenstid, skal jeg i gang igen. Hvis det er torsdag eller søndag, er der meget stor chance for, at et af mine societies har et socialt arrangement. Så sent som i torsdags var jeg til en tv transmittering af den skotske uafhængighedsfolkeafstemning, hvor vi blev oppe hele natten i studenterforeningens hovedkvarter for at se resultaterne som de kom ind. Jeg har også været til en tapas & sangría-aften med de spansktalende society - min kærlighed til Spanien er, efter den aften - hvis den ikke allerede var det - helt væk. For now. Hvis det er mandag, tirsdag eller fredag, skal jeg til træning. Eftersom jeg ingen cykel har anskaffet mig endnu, foregår det på gåben. Der er 15 minutters gang ned til sportscenteret og vice versa tilbage igen. Når der er hundekoldt og jeg velvidende ved, at alle de andre er inde på deres dejlige varme værelser, er det til tider svært at finde motivationen. Især når jeg går igennem Hillhead (navnet på vores student village), og jeg kan se oplyste køkkener, hvor folk sidder og hygger sig. Men afsted kommer jeg og jeg er ofte først hjemme ved halv tolvtiden igen - godt tilfreds og totalt udmattet. Men så er det jo, at jeg kan slappe af, fordi jeg muligvis først skal møde kl. 12 næste dag eller slet ikke skal møde - så behøver jeg ikke engang gå tidligt i seng jo!

Og hvad gør man så, hvis man har hele natten foran sig? Man udnytter det, at man bor på et universitetskollegium - der sker noget hele tiden! Der er mindst én fest hver eneste aften, og hvis man ikke er til den slags, er det også muligt at finde noget mindre larmende. De bedste aftener jeg har haft her, har været mig der helt tilfældigt har været på den rigtige etage på det rigtige tidspunkt og er endt med at sidde i et køkken i flere timer og snakke med medstuderende til langt ud på natten. Der er altid nogen, der heller ikke gider at læse og som først skal møde sent næste dag. Du er aldrig alene! Nye historier, nye mennesker. Nye venner. Nye venskaber, som potentielt kan vare hele livet. Filosofiske samtaler med folk, du aldrig havde troet, du skulle blive venner med..


Så, ja, hvad er konklusionen så? Er der overhovedet en pointe med alt det her? Ja, det er der. Tror jeg da. Jeg har det godt. Meget godt endda, til alle jer, der så gerne vil have svar på det spørgsmål. Det kører. Jeg er stadig i tilvænningsfasen og en læseplan skal udarbejdes - men jeg kan ligeså godt sige det nu, for denne gang er jeg ikke bange for at sige det for tidligt; Jeg er det helt rigtige sted.



Hey guys! First and foremost, I feel like saying I'm sorry for having been completely MIA over the last couple of weeks. I probably shouldn't even begin to explain how much stuff's been going on, because for anybody with a sense of what it's like starting uni will know what a huge transition is it. Even bigger since it also involved moving to a different country. But yeah, my excuses are countless so I should just stop talking and get to the point. What is the point, one might ask. The point of this post is to enlighten all you, my family and friends. To let you know what is actually going on. So, with this being said, I'd like to welcome you all to an 'ordinary' day of a semi Scottish Dane. What conclusions have I reached here, having been here for almost 3 weeks?


I will commence my story by telling you about something we all love: Monday mornings. Ironically I actually happen to like Mondays even though Monday is by far the roughest day of the week when it comes to my schedule. The very first thing on my agenda is my 9AM lecture in Latin American history. Nine am sharp may I add. It’s not always easy may I also add. The fact that I find this course insanely interesting makes it a lot easier though. It makes up for the ‘9 o’clock Monday morning’. So far at least. Most of my friends all have classes at the same time and I think it’s only fair that we get some extra credits for this particular achievement. Aberdeen is notorious for being chronically cloudy and very grey. The do not name it ‘The Granite City’ for nothin’. This plus Monday morning. Need I say more?


Monday is not only tough because Monday is Monday. This day is also the day where I have 5 classes – this is the highest number of classes I have all week in one day. 4 lectures and one tutorial. The rest of the week is all fun and games compared to Monday. I have four courses/subjects – Latin American history/culture, international relations, anthropology and philosophy. I’ve tailored my week all by myself and I love it – I know it’s completely normal once you get to uni, but for me, it’s a whole new world and I’m digging it. My days usually have a few hours in between classes which is much needed too. These hours are best spent studying in our awesome (it’s a spiral inside!) library or hanging with good friends on campus. When the day’s over, I walk home, either through Seaton Park or King Street and I always catch myself thinking how lucky I am to be here, to be able to study here and broaden my horizon in a way that’d never be possible in Denmark.

This pattern repeats itself 4 days a week. And this is where you’re probably wondering.. aren’t there usually 5 days in a standard working week? And then I say, oh yes there might be for non-cool people, but in my world this concept has ceased to exsist. Wednesday equals freedom, no classes nor tutorials, no nothing! If I happened to be just a tad less civilized, I’d be in my bed all day long. But as bittersweet as everything eventually turns out to be, I have swimming. Most of you probably know that swimming was once a big part of my life – I can now inform you that we’re back on track! I’ve missed it dearly, my gap year stopped me from carrying out one of my biggest passions but no more! Once a swimmer, always a swimmer – that is very clear to me now. I joined the swimming team and it’s only 5 times a week, so the level is just perfect when you’re busy with studying and all that other stuff I have to find the time to do. Every little part of my academic life and school is gone the moment I jump in the water – it’s the perfect getaway from lectures, tutorials, essays, assignments and those 56 pages of essential reading I actually should’ve read for tomorrow’s classes..
To get back on track; I’ve just revealed a very important part of my new life – Wednesday is the day off. I’m a fan! Most of my friends have this particular day off and it’s wonderful! It’s so much easier to get through the week when you have a gap in the middle and when you can almost allow yourself to call it a week when you get home from your Tuesday-classes.. almost! *insert cheeky smiley*

But sadly, it can’t always be Wednesday and when it’s not Wednesday (happens occasionally!) and I actually find myself with some sort of obligation and ‘need’ to study, it also happens that I get around to actually opening a book when I get home from uni. Oh the horror. If not, I go into town with my friends. Or I just collaps on my bed. Happens once in a while too. Maybe more often than it should. Let’s just be honest here. I have yet to figure out how all this is going to work. I need to figure out how to organize my time, because this thing with studying until 2am almost every night is not going to work out in the long run, I think that’s safe to say. I’m praying those times will come to an end soon and I feel like they will, I feel like I’m slowly but steadily learning how to prioritize and manage my time in the best way possible. 

But why have I been cursed with a hate for coffee and a soft spot for sleeping in? It’s not compatible..

But when it gets dark outside and it’s around 6 o’clock, I need to get going again. If it’s Thursday, Wednesday or Sunday, there’s a very good chance that one of the societies have a social events that I might want to attend. Like this past Thursday for instance. We all stayed in the Student Association-builiding all night watching a live screening of the Scottish referendum vote. We watched the results all night as they came in from the different regions all over the country. I have also attended a tapas and sangria-night with the Hispanic Society – my love for Spain is, after that night - if it wasn’t already disappearing - totally gone. For now at least. If it’s Monday, Tuesday or Friday, I have practise. Since I have yet to get myself a bike, it’s on foot. It takes me approximately 15 minutes to get to the Sports Village and vice versa back home. When it’s freezing hell outside and I’m well aware that almost everybody else is cozy in their rooms, it can be hard to motivate myself enough to get out the door. Especially when I walk through Hillhead (the name of our student village) and I can see all the lighted kitchen and people having fun and relaxing after a hard day. But so far I’ve managed to do it every single time and I haven’t skipped a single session. I’m usually home around 11-11.30pm – usually very exhausted but always in such a good mood although it’s late. But I might be lucky and I might not have classes until 12 next day, so I can finally relax and I don’t even have to force myself to go to bed early!


And what do you do then, if you have all night and don’t feel like sleeping? You take advantage of the fact that you live in a student village with hundreds of other young people. There’s something going on all the time. There’s at least one party every single night and if you’re not into that kinda thing, it should be possible to find something a little less noisy. So far, the best nights I’ve had here have been me randomly finding a kitchen with people talking – it’s a great way to meet new people. It’s just about being at the right place at the right time. And you might just end up talking ‘till 2am with these great people you never knew lived in your building. You’ll always find people fed up with reading and who might not have classes the next day either. You’re never alone and that’s what I love about living here. There’s always a new story, new people, new potential friends. Philosophical conversations with strangers that could turn into friends. It’s amazing.

So, this is the part where I should reach a conclusion. There should a point with all this, right? I hope there is. I think there is. The point is, I’m happy. Content. Still insanely overwhelmed with the immense workload and how to cope with wanting to do everything, wanting to have a life and get good grades (is it even possible?) – but I’m loving every second, so I might as well put it out there, even though everything can still change; I am right where I’m supposed to be.

Wednesday 10 September 2014

First day of the rest of my life

Så er vi vist nået tilpas langt no hen i starten på min universitetskarriere, at jeg kan begynde at nedskrible de første indtryk. Jeg vil i hvert fald vove mig ud i det. Med skotsk flag og det hele.

Jeg tror aldrig nogensinde, jeg har mødt så mange mennesker på så kort tid og jeg tror aldrig nogensinde, at jeg vil have så mange ting at se til, som jeg har lige nu. Vi er midt i den berømte Freshers' Week. Jeg har været her i lidt over tre døgn og antallet af nye indtryk stiger markant hvert eneste minut. Aldrig nogensinde har jeg prøvet noget lignende. Vi er midt i vores rusuge og jeg kan uden tvivl sige allerede nu, at jeg aldrig nogensinde vil glemme denne uge. Der sker noget hvert eneste sekund. Der er 20 events hver eneste dag og 100 ting, vi skal have styr på. Vi skal registere os hos en læge, vi skal oprette en bankkonto, vi skal vælge vores fag, vi skal til husmøder, deltage i societies' fayre, joine sports teams, vi skal til møder med vores undervisere, vi skal købe vaskekort, få fat i en cykel.. Og selvfølgelig have den bedste uge i vores liv og møde vores fremtidige bedste venner - det lyder da nemt, ikke? Heldigvis er vi jo alle så (u)heldige, at vi er i samme båd. Vi er alle sammen alene, vi skal alle sammen have skabt os et liv her - og det er det, der er så fedt. At møde mennesker her er det nemmeste, jeg nogensinde har prøvet. Har du lyst til at snakke med en, som du ikke kender? Se, det eneste du skal gøre, er at gå over til personen, sige 'hej' og på ingen tid har du en samtale kørende og du har lige fået en ny ven. Hvor er du fra, hvad skal du studere og hvor bor du henne? Jeg elsker det.

Jeg har været her i så lidt tid og alligevel føles det som om, at jeg har været her de sidste mange uge og det er gået stærkere, end jeg har ord til at beskrive. Tiden er fløjet afsted på den bedst mulige måde med møder og skoleting om dagen og husfester og tilfældigt arrangede fællesmiddage om aften. Der er mange ting, der kræver opmærksomhed, men jeg har heldigvis fået ordnet det vigtigste. Jeg har registreret mig og valgt mine fag. Jeg kommer, udover Latinamerika og internationale relationer, til at smage på lidt filosofi og psykologi (jeg kunne bare ikke få mig selv til at vælge tysk..). Jeg har fået et student ID og det første, jeg gjorde, var selvfølgelig at tilmelde mig alle de gratis frynsegoder, jeg nu kan nyde godt af. Jeg har fået adgang til vaskemaskinerne i min 'landsby' og jeg har fået vasket tøj for første gang i næsten to uger. Det er en stor bedrift, når man er her og når man er mig. Jeg har næsten fået pakket min kuffert ud, og mit værelse er allerede hjemligt. Jeg har købt potter og pander, sengetøj, tøjbøjler. Alt det kedelige, jeg ikke anede, at vi selv skulle sørge for. Jeg har fået en læge, så jeg også har råd til at blive syg. Det skal nok ske på et tidspunkt jo. Og nok det allervigtigste: Jeg har tilmeldt mig svømmeholdet! Der er stadig en helt masse ting, jeg mangler at få styr på. Men jeg begynder så småt at kunne se en start og et grundlag for et nyt liv, en ny hverdag. 
Jeg kan konkludere to ting allerede nu. To ting, som jeg kan sige med sikkerhed allerede nu, her tre døgn efter ankomst.

Jeg bliver aldrig nogensinde fan af den skotske accent, og jeg er ved at påbegynde de fedeste år i mit liv.

ENGLISH So this is it. I'm here. Finally. Right in the middle of my freshers' week. There is something going on literally every single minute. It's beyond stressing, but it's also one of the greatest things I've ever experienced. There are so many people to meet, so much stuff to do and so many roads to take. This week is going to be one of the busiest weeks of my life without any doubt. It already is. It's a whole new world, this campus culture and living in a student village. I'm so not used to it. 
But I absolutely love it and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I got here Saturday around 2pm and just when I found the pick up-service, it started. Ever since we've been bombed with information. My schedule has been filled to the brim. We've had - and excuse me my language - a shitload of stuff to do. Choosing our classes, getting registered as a student, buying stuff for our rooms, setting up a bank account, join societies, attend the fayres, getting registered with a doctor, buying access to the laundromats, meeting the lecturers and the teachers, meeting with our personal tutor, attend block meetings, rent a bike.. and of course, have the best time of our life and be social! 

But, even though it's been insane so far, I've been having an amazing time. I think the worst preparatory work is done. I've picked my classes and in addition to my degree prescribed courses international relations and Latin American studies, I'll be taking some philosophy and psychology classes! I know, I didn't see that one coming either, but when I was at the session selecting my classes, it just hit me that I can really choose whatever and so I did what I've been raised to do; I did what I wanted to do and what felt right! Another very important thing I'm now able to check off my list is signing up for the swimming team. I miss swimming like crazy and it's been more than a year since the last time I was part of a team, so of course this is what I'm gonna do! I am so exited to get started and attend the first session. But first, Freshers' Week has to be enjoyed to the fullest. It's amazing to meet so many new people, people who's going through the same transition as you are. They don't know anybody either. And that's why this is so easy, that's why meeting people isn't a problem. If you want to talk to somebody, you simply walk up to them and introduce yourself. It's totally acceptable just to stick out your hand and say hi. An awkward silence may follow, but it was worth a try, right? I kinda hope it's gonna be the same all through the first year, and not just during Freshers', because I could get used to this. Coming from the cold Scandinavia, I'm defo not used to this kinda of socialising but I'm digging it. What I don't understand though, is how a lot of the Brits I've met somehow think it's cool to be from Denmark. I really wish I could understand their fascination instead of putting on my confuzzled face. I really don't understand. Freshers' Week has been amazing so far but I am also extremely excited to commence teaching and finally meet the people on my courses.

So, having been here for three days, I am sure of two things. First and foremost, I will never ever like the Scottish accent. It's not so bad here in Aberdeen, but we got a lot of Highlanders people from the Southern part of Scotland. I'm not a fan and I'll never be. I'm praying that I won't have any lecturer with a unintelligible accent. And secondly, I am sure, after just three days, that these years will be the best years of my life.

Friday 5 September 2014

Like an old friend

London. Åh London. Det var dejligt at se dig igen. Alle der kender mig ved, at jeg elsker London. Jeg elsker, hvordan alle maser sig frem på Oxford Street med favnen fuld af enten den efterhånden ikoniske brune papirspose med de tynde lyseblå bogstaver fra Primark eller den skriggule fra Selfridges. Primark-posen  skriger kvantitet over kvalitet og Selfridges står for kvalitet. Jeg tilhører selv den første gruppe af folk, der ikke har råd til at mæske os i Selfridges luksus. Oxford Street er altid spændende. Der sker altid noget. Især hvis du gør dig selv imødekommende. Så snakker folk til dig. Det kan jeg mægtig godt lide. Såsom idag, hvor der var to pakistanere, der spurgte mig, om jeg var fransk. Not cool man. Den har jeg alligevel aldrig hørt før. Snakker I hollandsk i Danmark? Eller da jeg stoppede ved to fløjtespillende mænd, der så meget sydamerikanske ud. Og såmænd de ikke også var det. Bolivia og Peru. Jamen dog! Det var rart. Snakker I spansk i Danmark, spurgte han mig. I wish. Der sker altid noget i London. For nyligt opdagede jeg, at sprogudveklingseventet, som jeg gik til konstant i Buenos Aires, endelig er til at finde uden for Argentinas grænser. Selvfølgelig til London som det første sted. Så jeg tog to finske veninder under armen, hvoraf jeg skal bo under samme tag med den ene på vores kollegie i Aberdeen. Det var smadderhyggeligt! Jeg suger alt der kan minde mig om Argentina til mig, det er vist ingen hemmelighed. De tre arrangører havde også været i Buenos Aires og meget indforståede blikke blev udvekslet. Vi savner det alle sammen. Det er ikke kun mig. Jeg fik dog en del af Sydamerika i form at portugisisk. Det er rustent, men det var der. Lyttede til en del finsk og konkluderede, at jeg aldrig nogensinde skal lære det sprog. Der var som sædvanligt ingen danskere. Gudsketakoglov. Det argentinske flag var til at spotte men de var ikke til at trænge igennem til, så min søgen fortsætter. To be continued. Det spanske ligeså, og dem der kender mig, ved også at jeg elsker Spanien og alt relateret dertil. Eller rettere sagt, jeg elskede. Now not so much. Sydamerika ændrede alt for meget! Jeg tog endda mig selv i at spørge en spansktalende gut, hvorvidt han var fra Spanien og da han nikkede, tog jeg mig selv i at sukke højlydt, hvortil han grinte. Jeg tror godt han forstod det. De er ikke i så høj kurs mere. Eller også havde han set mit argentinske flag. Hvem ved. Alle i Sydamerika gør grin med den mumlede spanske accent og nu er jeg også begyndt at kunne identifiere det komiske i den. Så ja, i stedet for at skulle anstrenge mig for ikke at grine af dem, når de snakker til mig, foretrækker jeg helt at holde mig helt væk. Det giver da mening, gør det ikke? Og hvis de har et brændende ønske om at konversere med mig (for hvem har ikke det?), så må de imitere den skønne røst, der er den argentinske rioplatense accent. 


Jeg har haft en par rigtig gode dage i London. Jeg har været ude i forstæderne, hvor jeg boede første gang jeg var her, jeg har mødtes med nogle af andre førsteårsstuderende, der også skal til Aberdeen, jeg har været til en fantastisk (og gratis!) intimkoncert/meet n' greet med Nina Nesbitt, en skotsk sangerinde (inkl. cupcakes, drinks og verdens største goodiebag fra Forever 21) og jeg har mødt en helt masse nye fantastiske mennesker. London skuffer aldrig, det kan jeg vist godt konkludere nu hvor jeg har været her 3 gange. Og nu er klokken ved at nærme sig 21, kalenderen siger d. 5. september og jeg sidder pt. og stirrer ind i min skærm, som er åben på min universitets email konto - min indbakke bugner allered med beskeder om informationsmøder, registrering, tutormøder, mentorprogrammer og alt det hejs, selvom vi ikke engang er startet endnu. Jeg kan ikke tro, at det er nu. At det faktisk er i dag, at jeg stiger på en bus, hvor destinationen er Aberdeen. Imorgen er dagen, jeg har ventet på i efterhånden mere end 6 måneder - lige siden jeg fik nyheden om, at jeg var optaget. Jeg tager bussen i aften ved midnat og ankommer imorgen ved middagstid. Og så går det løs - snart kan jeg kalde mig universitetsstuderende i Skotland!

London, my dear friend. It was incredibly nice to see you again. Anyone who truly knows me also knows that I love London. I absolutely adore London. I love everything about London. I love how, when you walk down Oxford Street, can't avoid being squeezed by busy people waving either a brown paper bag that has the word Primark on it, written with those almost iconical ivy blue letters, or the yellow Selfridges bag that's a bit classier in my opinion. It's either quality or quantity. You choose. Primark is the latter. I fall into the category of deprived people who fall for the cheap tricks by Primark. They know how to market themselves. I fall for it. I also love Oxford Street because there's always something going on. Very Londonish. People talk to you if you put on your extroverted face and make yourself available. Or maybe you'll casually meet two Latino looking guys playing the flute and you ask them where they're from to which they answer with the softest Latin American-accent "Yo soy de Bolivia y él de Perú". Or you'll casually get approached by two guys from Islamabad asking you if you're French. I never heard that one before. Finnish, Dutch, American, Swedish.. But never French. Why not Argentinian, huh? I could totally pass for being latina. Or maybe, you discover that your favorite language event, an event you used to attend all the fucking time in Buenos Aires, finally expanded and can now be found outside Argentina. Where? London, of course! So I went. Of course I went. I went with two Finnish girls. One of them's gonna live in the room next door in the residence halls in Aberdeen, so we decided to meet up while we're both in London anyways. It was awesome. The guys who'd arranged it also went to Buenos Aires. Understanding looks were exchanged. We all miss it. It's not just me who's going nuts, guys, okay? I also got to speak some Portuguese (getting better everyday!) and listen to some Finnish. I can now conclude that Finnish will never be my language. As always, no Danes. Argentinians were to be spotted but no chances to mingle. Next time. My search for genuine (and approachable) Argentinians continues. I actually found myself asking a Spanish-speaking guy "De dónde eres?" and when he said España, the disappointment was written all over my face. I said 'Oh..', kept on walking and he laughed. It was kinda funny. Tragicomic. It's funny partly because I used to love Spain, Spaniards and everything related. But now.. Now I even find myself avoiding to talk to them because literally everyone in South America makes fun of the Spanish accent and now I can't help but notice it every single time. And I can't help but giggle. They do not like that. So I figured it's easier to avoid them, right? I have an unhealthy relationship with Hispanic things. The other day at Pizza Hut I actually found myself undertipping my waiter solely based on the fact that he, of course, was the only non-Hispanic waiter there. Can that be classified as racism?
Another thing that's also bound to happen in London is being met by very friendly cahiers and at least half of them will refer to you as love. It's lovely. Of course that's not just in London, but all over England. I love it! You say "Have a nice day," and they say "You too love!" How can that not make you all happy and giggily? 

So, to sum up, these past few days have been amazing. I've met up with lovely people who's going to Aberdeen as well, I went to see my 'old house' in the Northwestern surburbs where I lived with my hostfamily during my language travel in 2011, I went to a free meet-the-artist/intimate concert with Nina Nesbitt who's a famous Scottish YouTuber (and it included cupcakes, fruity drinks and a huge goodiebag from Forever 21 - score!) and I've met a bunch of amazing people. What more could you ask for? 

And now it's finally Friday the 5th of September. Which means it's showtime tomorrow! Or actually, it all starts tonight in my case - I'm taking a bus from Victoria at midnight and then 12 hours later, tomorrow at noon, I'll arrive in Aberdeen.  As of right now, I'm just staring at my computer where my university email account is open. Notices about welcome sessions, personal tutor meetings, career programmes, registration sessions. I've been waiting for this day for more than 6 months and now it's finally tomorrow. It's hard to believe, but one thing is for sure; I am utterly and beyond excited! This is it!

Wednesday 3 September 2014

Fremtid

*Klichéfyldt indlæg forude*
Jeg føler lidt, at jeg er ved at bevæge mig over i det, man så populært kalder 'voksenlivet'. I'm growing up! 
De sidste mange år af mit liv har været en leg. En leg i bedste mulige forstand. Især de sidste fire år af mit liv, som har været karakterbyggende udover det sædvanlige og som har gjort mig til den, jeg er i dag. Kalenderen siger 2014, jeg har levet i snart 20 år og universitetet står nu for døren for mit vedkommende. Jeg skal flytte til et andet land, studere på et andet sprog end mit modersmål og jeg skal have skabt mig en hverdag i en kultur, jeg indtil nu kun har oplevet udefra. Jeg glæder mig. Enormt meget. Jeg kan slet ikke rumme hverken mig selv i disse dage. Men nok så meget som jeg glæder mig til den næste store etape af mit liv, så er det godt nok også med et tungt hjerte, at jeg siger farvel til de sidste fire år.

Jeg startede på gymnasiet d. 11. august 2010 og selvom det er over fire år siden, så kan jeg stadig tage mig selv i til tider at savne at sidde der, dér på Aalborghus Gymnasium omringet af de dejligste klassekammerater, man kunne ønske sig. Vi var nok egentlig alle sammen lidt forvirrede og mærkværdige, men jeg kunne ikke have bedt om bedre mennesker at dele min dagligdag med. Jeg elskede hver eneste dag, jeg glædede mig altid til at komme i skole og jeg var til tider den eneste, det er jeg helt sikker på. Jeg følte egentlig aldrig, at jeg sådan rigtigt passede ind; de andre havde interesserer, der lå milevidt fra det, jeg godt kunne lide at lave. Der var mange af dem, der ikke kunne forstå, hvorfor jeg blandt andet havde brugt en måned af min sommerferie på noget så kedeligt at studere spansk i Spanien. Jeg havde altid svært ved at følge med til pigeaftenerne, når de andre snakkede om deres vilde byture eller deres seneste erobringer. Og jeg skulle altid finde på en undskyldning for hvorfor jeg ikke ville deltage i deres alkoholrus. 

Men på trods af alt det - så følte jeg mig altid tilpas i min klasses selskab, og det var den bedste følelse i hele verden. Og selvom det var en fantastisk følelse at få huen på hovedet, så kan jeg tydeligt huske den tristhed og følelse af tomhed, der indtræf om aftenen, den dag, jeg blev student. Da jeg lå der i sengen og skulle til at lukke mine øjne. Jeg var udmattet efter den fantastiske dag, og selvom jeg ikke kunne lade være med at smile, så græd jeg salte tårer indeni. Det var slut. Et helt fantastisk kapitel af mit liv var slut idet jeg gik ud af eksamenslokalet den dag. Og i det øjeblik, jeg trådte ud af skolens hoveddør for sidste gang, på dimissionsdagen, der fløj mine tanker hen på min første skoledag.  Jeg kom for sent, og jeg var så nervøs, at jeg var lige ved at kaste min morgenmad op igen. Jeg finder med nød og næppe den store sal, og rektor er allerede i fuld gang med at byde de nye elever velkommen. Og næsten lige som jeg er trådt ind af døren, begynder han at læse  klasselisterne op. Og inden jeg får set mig om, er han kommet til 1.c. Mit hjerte springer et slag over. Det er første gang, jeg hører navnene på de mennesker, jeg skal dele hverdag med de næste tre år. Vi skal alle sammen gå op til ham og følge vores tutorer ud til vores givne klasseværelse. Jeg kigger ned i gulvet, da jeg går forbi hvad der føles som en million mennesker. Jeg føler alles øjne på mig. Hende der, hun kom for sent, derfor måtte hun stå nede bagi og nu går hun the walk of shame, imens hendes klassekammerater alle sammen dukker op fra deres sæder på stolerækkerne. 
Og så kigger jeg op. Endnu en gang finder jeg mig selv på vej imod rektor. Men denne her gang er det for at modtage mit eksamensbevis. Frugten af tre års arbejde. Det bevis, der skal markere, at det er slut. 3 gode år er kommet til en ende. Jeg var ved at forlade noget, jeg aldrig kunne vende tilbage til.

Imens jeg stod der, med beviset i hånden, foran en propfyldt sal med ekstatiske afgangselever og deres stolte forældre, kunne jeg ikke lade være med at tænke på, hvor meget Aalborghus har betydet for mig. Hvordan jeg var vendt tilbage til skolen i starten af både 2.g og 3.g efter at have været på sprogrejse. Jeg tænkte på, hvordan jeg kunne stå der, i 2013 og stadig med ekstrem præcision huske den person, jeg var, den dag i 2010, hvor jeg kom for sent til min allerførste skoledag. Hvordan jeg prøvede at forestille mig, før jeg overhovedet var begyndt, hvordan de næste tre år ville blive for mig. Om jeg ville komme til at holde af det. Studenterdagene var glade dage, men tanken om, at jeg aldrig skulle vende tilbage lå i baghovedet hele tiden.

Men jeg vidste jo, at mit liv kun lige var begyndt. Foran ventede der jo det, jeg elsker allermest - rejser i massevis! Først en herlig ferie til Japan og så begav jeg mig jo ud i noget, jeg egentlig aldrig havde troet, jeg ville kaste mig ud i, nemlig et sabbatår - jeg ville jo ikke 'spilde' tiden, når jeg kunne gå direkte fra gymnasie til universitet. Men jeg gjorde det - og selvom det har været den vildeste rutsjebanetur, så ville jeg ikke have haft det på nogen anden måde. Da jeg startede i 3.g, havde jeg allerede lagt mig fast på, at jeg skulle være i au pair, når jeg gik ud af gymnasiet. Det eneste, jeg manglede at finde ud af, var såmænd bare, om det skulle være i USA eller i New Zealand. På grund af manglende visa'er til danske au pairs, blev New Zealand udelukket og jeg gik i gang med at ansøge til USA.  Jeg gik hele mit sidste gymnasieår og glædede mig. Der var rigtig mange mennesker, og især min mor, der tvivlede på, at det var rigtige for mig. Og det viste sig jo så senere, at de havde ret. Men jeg tog af sted alligevel og selvom det gik så galt, at det i nogens optik nok ville kunne beskrives som en katastrofe, så ville jeg heller ikke have haft det på nogen anden måde. Jeg havde en fantastisk tid, indtil jeg endegyldigt bevidste overfor mig selv og alle andre, at det ikke var meningen, at jeg skulle blive der i et helt år. Men jeg fortryder ingenting, hvor selvhøjtideligt det end lyder. Klichéfyldt, men hvor er det bare sandt. I bussen på vej hjem til Santiago fra Valparaiso i Chile så jeg filmen 'This Is War' med Reese Witherspoon. Ikke videre intellektuel film, men ikke desto mindre blev der sagt noget, som jeg hæftede mig fast i. 'Jeg tror ikke på fejl. Det er dem, der har gjort, at du er her i dag.' Og det fik mig til at tænke over Texas.

Det var jo en fejl, der fik mig til at tage hjem. Men det var også en fejl, at jeg tog afsted i første omgang. Det var af de forkerte grunde og det var ikke fair overfor nogle af os, der var i situationen, men det var især ikke fair overfor min værtsfamilie, som stod helt magtesløse tilbage. Men det var ikke fejl i den forstand, at det er noget, jeg fortryder og som jeg ønsker, at jeg ikke havde gjort. Det er nemlig gået op for mig, at hvis jeg ikke var taget hjem, så havde min fremtid ikke set ud, som den gør nu. Og det gør mig uendeligt taknemmelig for, at jeg valgte at tage hjem og i stedet for at give mere op, kæmpe for nogle andre drømme, som jeg nærmest havde opgivet, da jeg valgte at tage til USA. Jeg havde fået en drøm smadret og så tænkte jeg, at jeg egentligt ikke havde mere at tabe. Så et par uger efter jeg kom hjem, havde jeg købt to ting; En flybillet til Argentina og adgang til det system, hvormed man ansøger til skotske universiteter. Argentina var langt fra planlagt, men jeg tænkte, at det nok skulle gå. Det gjorde det så heldigvis også. Så november og december blev, udover massiv julehygge, brugt på at skrive ansøgninger, indsamle referencer og undersøge alle de muligheder, jeg havde for at blive optaget i Skotland. Drømmen var blevet lagt på hylden, da jeg ikke fik det 10 i gennemsnit, som de kræver for overhovedet at tage min ansøgning i betragtning. Jeg fik den sendt afsted og hvad der føles som en evighed af lange nætter, der blev brugt på at skrive, kunne få en ende og jeg kunne begynde at se frem til at tage sydpå.

Jeg tog afsted d. 6. januar, lykkelig over at have fået julen med derhjemme, men ikke desto mindre klar på varme og luftforandring. Og måske virkede jeg calm and collected udadtil, men ser jeg tilbage på nogle af de beskeder, jeg udvekslede med mine venner om aftenen d. 5, da jeg lå i København og skulle flyve mindre end 24 timer senere - så er det tydeligt, at det var jeg bestemt ikke. Tanken om, at jeg tog afsted for at være væk i 6,5 måned hjemsøgte mig, og jeg var så bange for, at jeg ikke kunne klare det. Jeg tror på mange måder, at Texas havde givet mig en falsk frygt for, at jeg ikke kunne klare at være væk i længere tid. Men det var jo ikke derfor, at jeg tog hjem derfra og det blev tydeligt, da jeg kom til Sydamerika. Alle mine bange anelser og bekymringer blev ikke til noget. Jeg var slet ikke klar på at tage hjem, da det blev d. 15 juli. Hele mit eventyr, og især Buenos Aires, blev endnu mere fantastisk, end jeg nogensinde havde turdet håbe på. Jeg har stadig, her 1,5 måned efter, jeg kom hjem, ikke helt opfattet, at det faktisk skete og at det ikke er noget, jeg har drømt. At jeg fik lov at opleve noget så formidabelt. Og det har vist mig især en ting; der er ikke noget i hele verden, jeg ikke kan klare, så længe jeg har mennesker, der tror på mig.

Buenos Aires blev uden tvivl den største del af Sydamerika for mig. Jeg kan huske en aften i Cartagena i Columbia, hvor jeg sad på mit vandrehjem og snakkede med en utrolig sød svensk pige. Hun havde både boet i Frankrig, Irland og Australien, men var alligevel også interesseret i at høre om mine ydmyge rejser. Jeg forklarede hende, at jeg egentligt var taget til Sydamerika for at besøge mine venner i Chile og Brasilien, men alligevel var endt med at bruge 3 måneder af min tid i Buenos Aires, hvor jeg ikke engang havde nogle venner til at begynde med. Hun fortalte mig bagefter, at mit ansigt havde lyst helt op, da jeg begyndte at snakke om Buenos Aires. Hun kunne se på mig, hvor glad jeg havde været for at være der, selvom hun knapt kendte mig.

Og det bedste moment på hele min tur fandt jo selvfølgelig sted i Buenos Aires. Det var i minutterne efter, at jeg havde åbnet en mail fra det britiske ansøgningssystem, der lod mig vide, at der var nogle, der havde reageret på min universitetsansøgning. Jeg kunne ikke logge ind på portalen hurtigt nok, og jeg husker tydeligt, at jeg var lige ved at færdiggøre arbejdet, da jeg så mailen. Internettet var lige vendt tilbage på hostel, da klokken slog 15 og min arbejdsdag var slut. Jeg vil gerne sige, at jeg tog det helt køligt, men jeg tror jeg udstødte et mindre skrig, da mine øjne læste ordene 'unconditional offer'. Jeg manglede en opgave mere, indtil jeg kunne call it a fyraften, så jeg gik ind på et værelse og dansede glædesdans, imens jeg gjorde værelset præsentabelt - min krop hamrede med adrenalin og jeg kunne slet ikke rumme hverken min glæde eller situationen. Det sjove i det hele er nemlig, at jeg bare 9 dage forinden havde været til en informationsaften hos Universidad de Palermo i Buenos Aires og jeg overvejede kraftigt at ansøge der og bosætte mig i Argentina. Der var mange, der ikke var glade for den tanke og jeg tøvede også rigtig meget med at gøre det netop af den grund. Jeg havde ekstremt meget lyst til det, men jeg vidste, at det ville blive en udfordring af en anden dimension end dem, jeg er vant til. Jeg havde indtil fredag til at ansøge, og så var det som om at en eller anden højere kraft besluttede sig for at acceptere mig i Skotland om onsdagen, to dage inden ansøgningsfristen.

Efter den episode kom jeg til at tænke over, om det var af ren desperation, at jeg havde ansøgt til UP, eller om det var fordi jeg rent faktisk brændte for det. Jeg var forfærdet over tanken om nogensinde at skulle forlade Buenos Aires og da jeg blev tippet om universitetet, begyndte jeg at se det som den eneste realistiske mulighed for at blive der. Oveni det kom min stensikre overbevisning om, at jeg aldrig nogensinde ville komme ind i Skotland. Desperation. Men nok så meget som det var af de forkerte grunde, ligeså meget var det af de rigtige. Det var ligeså meget tanken om, at jeg havde en reel chance for at få et rigtigt liv i Argentina. For at læse på spansk. For at kunne bygge videre på den hverdag, jeg allerede havde skabt. Netværket. Rutinen. Men alligevel sidder jeg her, tilbage i Europa. Jeg sidder og forsøger at fordøje de sidste fire år. Mit sabbatår i særdeleshed. Uden at det var min intention, har jeg rejst en meget stor del af tiden. Nogle har endda kaldt det en jorddomsomrejse og det er vel egentlig rigtigt. Hvad der 'bare' skulle have været et år i en amerikansk forstad, blev til så meget mere. Sommerferien sidste år blev tilbragt i Japan, da jeg havde brug for at gøre 'et eller andet vildt', inden ansvaret kaldte i USA. Det blev til et par måneders arbejde i USA. Sydamerika. Et helt kapitel for sig selv. Roadtrip i Tyskland med min bedste veninde. Og nu en lille del af Storbritannien. Jeg befinder mig i skrivende stund i England. Jeg ankom til Edinburgh i fredags, gik byen tyndt i weekenden og tog bussen ned til London igår, hvor jeg befinder mig nu. Jeg så mit gyldne snit til at tage et smut til det sted, der var min version af paradis, før jeg fik øjnene op for Sydamerika. Det var også på mange måder her, det hele startede. Det var her, min udlængsel blev født. Det var her, jeg for første gang fik indblik i, hvordan du lige så stille og roligt forandres, når du på egne ben ser den verden, der hele tiden har ligget for dine fødder. Lige siden har den forandring, som London satte i gang, blomstret inde i mig. Og endelig skal jeg prøve det, det, som jeg har ladet op til de sidste par år; jeg skal skabe mig en hverdag i et andet land. En hverdag, jeg ikke behøver pille fra hinanden om et par måneder. Denne her gang er der ingen returbillet og selvom det er skræmmende as fuck, så er det også det, der er det bedste ved det hele. Jeg er klar.

ENGLISH It's now Setember 2nd, the year is 2014 and my gap year is officially over. The past four years have been a dance. I won't hesitate to state that they've made me who I am. They created the Sofie who's now on the edge of starting a new life. I've been alive for 19 years and after 13 years of school and one year in the school of life, I'm now ready to go to university. But this isn't just about starting some kind of higher education; it's just as much about that fact that this is the time where I moving to another country. For realsies, this time. Not just for a couple of months. This is going to last at least 4 years, if everything will go the way I planned it to. I'm not gonna use the word 'supposed', because that could very well jinx it. I'll move away from Denmark, start studying in a completely different language than my native one and I'll be creating myself a new life overseas. A life I've been waiting to start ever since I first smelled the taste of what life can be like when you leave your country to go discover what else the world has to offer. I am utterly excited and my words can't quite cover it. But, with that being said, a new beginning also marks an ending. I'm finished a chapter - something that has to be done in order to able to start a new one.  I'm saying goodbye to four essential years of my life and even though I'm bursting with excitement for what's to come, it's also with a heavy heart I give my farewell to the past four years of my life. 

I started high school on August 11th in 2010. Although it's been almost a year and a half since the last time, I can still catch myself longing to be back at my school, surrounded by people I eventually grew to appreciate a whole lot. I guess we were all a bit odd at times.. but nowadays, when I look back, I realize that I really couldn't have asked for better people to be around in the daily grind. I always enjoyed being at school and the number of days where I wasn't looking forward to another day can honestly be counted on one hand. At times, if not always, I'm sure I was the only one in my class. To be honest, I never really felt as if I fitted with the rest of my class; my interest were profoundly different from everybody else's and to give an example, a lot of my classmates couldn't get it into their heads why on earth I wanted to spend my summer in Spain to do something as boring as attending a language school. I always found it hard to keep up when we were having our occasional girls night where they kept on talking about their latest hook ups or how they were so incredibly wasted the night before. 

But, despite all of that, I always felt comfortable whenever I was around my class and that was just about one of the nicest feelings in the whole world. It was beyond amazing to finally graduate and be able to wear the hat that symbolized the end of it all, but one of the things I'll always remember the most clearly is a feeling of immense sadness that filled my heart that day, just when I closed my eyes and went to sleep at night. I was laying there, in my bed, ready to relax after an exhausting day. I couldn't stop smiling, but yet, inside the tears were streaming down my soul. It was all over the minute I closed my eyes. I could never go back. Nothing but memories to keep me warm. A chapter had seen its end. A chapter so character building that it's hard to put into words. It ended the moment I left the examination room that day. And when I stepped out of the front entrance on the day of our graduation, I couldn't stop myself from reminiscing my first day of school. I was late (oh the horror!) and I remember being so nervous that I almost threw up my breakfast. I have trouble finding the main hall and when I do, everybody else is seated and already listening to the principal welcoming the new students. A second after I enter the room, he begins to list all of the new classes and before I know it, it's my class, 1.c. My heart skips a beat. He reads all of the names. He's reading the names of the people with whom I'm going to spend the next three years. We all have to walk past him and follow our tutors to our assigned classroom. I stare at the floor and while I walk up to him, I try to make myself invisible. But I'm not. The hall's filled with what feels like a million people, a million eyes. All looking at me. My future friends all rise from the chairs. Turns out, I was the only one who arrived late. I look up. Once again, I'm walking towards the principal. But this time, I'm walking towards him to get my certificate. Again, every eye is on me. But this time, it's not because I was late. It's because I kept going. The certificate marks the end of three amazing years. Three tough, inspiring and fantastic years. It marks the ending of something I'll never get back.

While I was standing there with the certificate between my hands in front of a hall packed with my fellow students and their proud parents, my mind started to wander. I thought of how important that school turned out to be for me. How I'd come back slightly depressed in the beginning of the 2nd and 3rd year after a language travel. How that school had helped me develop my love for languages and of course, Spanish in particular. They gave me a scholarship in order for me to be able to pursue a dream of mine and study in Spain. I thought about how easy it was, standing there three years later and still being able to remember exactly the person I was that first day. About how I had tried to imagine what it'd be like, what the next three years would look like. Before it had even begun. I wondered if I was going to like it. The days that followed the last exam and the graduation were happy days, but the thought that I'd never go back still lingered in the back of my head.

But after all, I was fully aware that my life had just begun. Less than a week after my graduation, I embarked on my first journey - the following year would be packed with what I love the most - travelling! First up was a lovely holiday in Japan and then I commenced something I actually never thought I'd do - I took a gap year. Somehow I'd gotten it into my head that a gap year or just a plain year without attending school would be wasted. Thank god I didn't hold on to that thought, huh? So I did it and even though it's been a hell of a crazy ride, I wouldn't have had it any other way. When the third year came around, I'd already made my decision regarding my year after graduation. I was going to be an au pair and all I needed to do was decide whether I wanted to go to New Zealand or the US. Due to the lack of visas for Danish au pairs, New Zealand was excluded and I began writing my application to move to the United States. I was so excited during my last year despite a lot of people questioning my true motive for wanting to look after kids in another country. Especially my mom was sceptical. And it turned out she was right in the end. But off I went and even though it turned out to be what somebody would categorize as a disaster, I wouldn't have had it any other way either. I had an amazing stay until I proved to myself that I wasn't supposed to stay there for an entire year. And despite everything that happened, I don't regret anything. It sounds downright pompous, I know. But it's true. While I was in the bus home from Valparaiso to Santiago in Chile, I was watching the movie 'This Is War'. In case you've never heard of it, it's a very cliché movie with Reese Witherspoon. It's not very intellectual, but they did say something that was still stuck in my head when I reached Santiago a few hours later. 'I don't believe in mistakes. It's mistakes that make us who we are.' And then I started to think about Texas.

It was a mistake that made me end my stay and return home after only 2,5 months. But it was also a very bad judgment that made me go in the first place. I was mistaken and it wasn't fair to any of us. It was especially not fair to my hostfamily. But not a mistake in the sense that it's something I regret, something I wish I hadn't done. Not so soon after I got accepted into university, I realized that if I hadn't gone home, my future wouldn't be looking the way it does right now. And that makes me so incredibly thankful for the fact that I chose to go home and instead of giving up again, finding the courage to fight for my things I really wanted, the things I had given up on the moment when I decided to settle and go the US. One of my dreams had been shattered and I figured that I didn't really have anything else to lose. And I was right. So a couple of weeks after my return, I paid for two essential things; a plane ticket to Argentina and the UCAS-fee. UCAS is the Universities and Colleges Admissions Service in the UK, in my case, Scotland. I had no clue about what I was gonna do in Argentina and I kinda left it at that, started writing my application for universities I never ever thought I'd get into and that's how November and December were spent. We're talking endless nights of writing my personal statement and collecting academic references. It felt like it was going to last forever. But one night, I finished and I could finally start looking forward to leaving for South America and finally enjoying Christmas to the fullest. Nobody but a couple of my friends knew that that was what I had spent my time at home doing. Not even my family knew. I wanted to keep it a secret since I was honestly convinced that I'd never stand a chance.

So, on January 6th, I left Denmark. I was so happy to have had the opportunity to spend Christmas in Denmark with my family, but I was so ready to leave again. Ready for new adventures and a change of scenery. Maybe I came off as calm and collected when I left, but if I read some of the messages I exchanged with my friends on the night of the 5th when I was in my bed in Copenhagen, it's very obvious that I was in fact nowhere near okay. I was terrified. Less than 24 hours later I was gonna hop on that plane and it was gonna take me to a place where I had no plans, no friends, nothing. The thought of my return ticket being 6,5 months away scared the shit out of me. What if I hated it? When I think about it, I'm pretty sure Texas left a very bad mark on me regarding these kinda things. I think I was scared that I wasn't gonna be able to be away for a longer period of time. But it wasn't really the thought of being away from Denmark that scared me, because I knew deep down that that wasn't gonna be a problem at all. I really don't know what it was. I knew I hadn't left Texas because of homesickness and it became even more clear when I got to Argentina. All my irrational worrying was completely pointless. Completely. I was nowhere near ready to leave, when July came around. Everything turned out to be amazing, even more amazing than I could have ever hoped for. Even now, 1,5 months after my return, I still can't quite get it into my mind that it happened. That I finally got to see my South American friends after years of waiting. That I was so insanely lucky to get to experience something this marvelous. My trip taught me many things, but the single most important thing I learned is that anything's possible as long as you have people who believe in you.

Buenos Aires turned out to be the biggest part of South America for me. I remember a night in Cartagena in Colombia where I was chatting to a very friendly Swedish girl. She had spent periods living in France, Ireland and Australia, yet she was still interested in me telling her about my modest travels. I explained to her how I had come down there to visit my friends in Chile and Brazil, but had ended up spending three months in Buenos Aires where I didn't even have any friends to begin with. Later on, she told me how the topic 'Buenos Aires' had brought a special spark to my eyes. She told me how I had lighted up when she asked me about Argentina. She could tell, just by looking at me, how much that place means to me. And she barely knew me.

And the best thing about my whole journey of course took place in Buenos Aires. Claro. And that brings me back to today. There's a point with all of this, you'll see! The best thing on my trip, maybe even the best moment in all my life so far: It was how I felt in the following minutes after opening an email from UCAS. They wanted to let me know that somebody had reacted to my application. I couldn't log into the portal fast enough. I was just finishing work that day and it was 3pm. The wifi had just returned after almost a week's absence. I'd love to say that I was completely cool and collected, but I'm sure I let out a teeny tiny scream when my eyes read the word 'unconditional offer'. I had one more job to do before I could call it a day, so I went into a room to clean it, locked the door and started dancing. I was filled with adrenaline, I could scream at the top of my lungs if I had let myself go totally crazy. I couldn't contain myself in that moment. Not myself nor my happiness. It wasn't only amazing, but also funny. Comical. The funny thing is, that no more than 9 days prior to this day, I had been at the Universidad de Palermo in Buenos Aires attending an information night for prospective students. I was strongly considering applying to study there and that way stay in Argentina. To live, for realsies. A lot of people didn't approve of that and because of that exact reason, I had many doubts about doing it. I hesitated. I wanted to do it so badly, but at the same time I was well aware that it was gonna turn out to be a challenge of another dimension. The deadline for applications was the following Friday and I'm pretty sure some higher power decided to accept me into Aberdeen just two days before I had to make the decision.  

All this got me thinking; why did I apply to UP? Was it out of pure desperation or did I genuinely want it? The thought of ever having to leave Buenos Aires haunted me and it made me sad. When it came to my ear that UP was hosting informative nights and after I went and lost my heart to it, I started seeing it as the only way out if I wanted to stay in Argentina. On top of that came my conviction that I'd never get into Scotland. Desperation. But just as much as it was for all the wrong reasons, it was also for all of the right ones. Just as much as it was the thought of having to rotten up back in Denmark (no offense, I still love you), it was also the thought of being able to create a real life in Argentina. To get the opportunity to continue what I had started instead of having to leave it. I wanted to study in Spanish.  I wanted to continue building the life I had already started creating down there. The network. The routine. But yet, here I am, back in Europe. I'm trying to get an overview of the past four years and by that, trying to digest them. Japan, the US, South America. Right now, my location is England. I arrived in Edinburgh on Friday and took the bus down to London yesterday. I seized the moment to go back to the place, the place that could boast itself of being my version of paradise before I discovered South America. How beautiful and symbolic, ain't it? In many ways, this place was where it all started. This was the place where I first discovered my wanderlust. This was the place where I, for the first time, gained an insight into a world that opens up to you the moment you decide to go see it. This is where I felt myself changing for the first time. Ever since then, the change has been growing inside me. It has led me to this. I'm going to Aberdeen on Saturday. I'm moving abroad. And that's why I'm doing this. Not because I need to do it. It's because I want to do it.