Self-sufficient

At the beginning of the year, I received a few compliments from the locals on how independent and courageous I am, and that they could not imagine themselves studying abroad in a foreign language.

I spent six years at OPEN GATE, coming home twice a month, which may be why similar comments on independence have always gone in one ear and out the other for me. But I have to admit that I finally felt the unpleasant weight of “independence” during the exam period when, believe it or not, the actual exams were the least stressful part.

It always seemed to me that adults made fun of us, the young and the restless, telling us that there are worse things than exams in life. But finding a sublease in Oxford for a one-month internship at Platform 51, putting together the funds to pay the rent, doing my research work, traversing London for the STAR National training, and finally packing and moving some 100 kilos of stuff several train stops away to my destination where I was to stay in the following academic year (including several visits to my favorite realtors) easily matched all four of my exams. Imagine doing all this side by side the relaxed locals who have an aunt in Oxford, an overdraft account, and parents who will pack and unpack for them, including a Tesco cart full of food. And all you can do is complain on Skype that the local moving companies’ prices are downright inhuman and that you don’t know how to haul those ten boxes.

But then, by a happy accident, the landlord for the sixth advert that you answer writes to you that the room is vacant and that you can come and have a look. Following five e-mails, the university answers that yes, you are entitled to a “working” grant. Somehow, you manage to convince 18 people to share their experience in volunteering with you on record. On top of it all, you don’t get lost in London’s mega-underground that gives you panic attacks. And, finally, at the last moment you miraculously convince a friend to lend her father to you as a fast moving service, another friend to provide storage for your hundred kilos of stuff, and yet another friend to come over next week to pick it up and carry it to the final destination.

Then, exhausted, you sit in front of the screen thinking about what to write about it all. And you are left feeling only half-independent because even though you have managed to pull it all off somehow, it would be impossible without the people around you – at home, the faculty, the career guidance office, The Kellner Family Foundation headquarters, or your friends.

So that “being independent” thing is kind of weird after all.