Over the Threshold, or Tha mi a’ fuireach ann an Dùn Èideann

I shan’t, however, accept the least morsel of compassion as I was neither the first, nor alone. Throughout the summer holiday I had been consulting every step of the way with Open Gate alumni already studying in Britain, and two of my former schoolmates were embarking on exactly the same journey that very day. We had already said goodbye to our friends and families at home, but an additional group of friends from school awaited us at the airport. Fortunately enough we managed to get through the hugs and waves without tears and through the check-in procedures without any much-dreaded holdups concerning baggage size and weight. Having had to fight our way through the crowded Saturday airspace, we landed in Edinburgh slightly later than originally expected, but before the dark. After a forty-minute bus ride to the city centre, already packed with inebriated students as it was the second day of Freshers’ Week, we finally picked up our keys and entered, for the first time, our rooms for the year.

The accommodation I have opted for is self-catered (not only do I enjoy cooking, but it’s also a significant saving) and in the form of a flat, as opposed to halls (so I share space with only three other people, making the whole experience much more homely and comfortable). All of my flatmates had already arrived by the time I did, but we only met each other randomly one by one over the next two days. I live with an Englishman studying Linguistics and Japanese and two natural science-oriented Poles, who have resided in Britain for years. My room is quite larger than I expected and well-heated even now as winter begins to rear its head, although perhaps a tad dark. The furniture is not new, but in good condition. A functional, boring space on the whole. That, however, changed a couple of days later when my second, larger suitcase arrived (I had had it dispatched to Britain via Tea House Transport, which I can heartily recommend if no flights with reasonable additional luggage fees can be found), containing the rest of my clothes and a wealth of dear pictures, posters and objects which I used to transform the sterile uni room into my own wonderful personal den.

Let my more sociable friends describe the bacchanalia of Freshers’ Week: for myself it meant mainly acquainting myself with the activities of the many student societies and joining a few relevant ones (eg. LangSoc or the Highland Society). Meeting my personal tutor (who does research into language planning and the social and political position of Gaelic and was delighted when I confessed to similar interests) was also an important event, as it was then that I became an officially immatriculated student of the University. Teaching began the following week. In terms of course options, degrees in the humanities are very compact at the UoE: over the two semesters, a student must attain 120 credits. Two-semester courses are worth 40 credits and one-semester courses 20. In the first year, one study programme often equals one two-semester course, making the whole system very clear. Single Honours students therefore choose two outside subjects (or generally speaking, 80 credits worth of outside subjects). Joint Honours students, such as myself, have two compulsory subjects (eg. Gaelic 1A and Linguistics and English Language 1), and therefore have only 40 credits left. I was hoping to spend mine on Latin, but could not do so due to a timetable clash. In the end, I was deciding between Swedish and Sanskrit; the modern language won.

No, it isn’t easy learning two languages from scratch and through English, to boot. It does have its perks, though: while students doing History, Archeology or English Literature spend whole nights writing deep, thousand-word essays, my homework consists mostly of composing short texts on my family, friends, and hobbies. Still, in all seriousness I cannot imagine a language course more intensive than the two I am part of. What is introduced to us today we have to have mastered by tomorrow. So far, to my sincere surprise, I have been  able to keep up with this pace; at least my test results would suggest so. Linguistics 1, unfortunately, is much less of a challenge and therefore nowhere nearly as fun. My interest in the subject has certainly not simmered down, but throughout the first semester Mr Kostečka’s pre-IB syllabus has hardly been transcended, which can sadly be put down to the relatively low level of general linguistic knowledge amongst British students. I try to quench my academic thirst with the surprisingly difficult suggested reading and hope for a drastic improvement in the second semester.

To an IB alumnus, volunteering is a natural part of education. I myself have become a member of a legally registered student-led co-operative called the SHRUB (Swap & Re-use Hub), which is a continuation of previous one-off projects concerning sustainable use and re-use of goods. Over the last couple of years, volunteers have collected unwanted items from departing students at the end of the school year and redistributed them to freshers the following September, saving tens of tonnes of perfectly fine goods from the landfill. From this absolutely invaluable initiative arose the idea of establishing a permanent institution operational from the beginning of this year, functioning on a similar principle and offering to the whole community (not only students) an alternative to the consumerist lifestyle. Anyone can come into our little shop and exchange their stuff for something else of a similar monetary value, or simply purchase a useful second-hand item. Members also have free access to goods such as kitchenware or stationery: I came to Edinburgh with basic cutlery and a couple of plates and found everything else I needed at the SHRUB, including a toaster, strainer, slotted spoon etc. I’m immensely proud to be part of such a charitable project, and was pleasantly surprised by the amount of responsibility the founders were not afraid to entrust us newcomers with: as a member of the shop committee I can palpably influence the face and the direction of the co-operative.

I think this is where I can end my overly verbose description of my settling in in Edinburgh, hoping that I have sufficiently captured all of its important aspects. Next time, I’d like to focus on the city itself and its atmosphere, which enchants me anew each day. For now, however, I bid the persistent reader goodbye. Alba gu bràth!