I think I might make two posts today, as this one will hopefully be pretty short. Of course, every time I say that, I end up writing a thesis paper, but this time, I’m “Fer Serious.”
(I’m writing this parenthetical expression after having written most of this post, and you should know that 1. It’s not short; 2. It’s kind of a random, personal “I remember when…” kind of thing; 3. You might love it nonetheless–at least I hope so.)
This is going to sound odd, but part of me misses being a scared, naive, know-nothing freshman. What made me feel this way, you ask? Good question. (Sorry, had to.)
This morning, I stumbled across a facebook group for this fall’s Irish Studies Program. I’m pretty sure all of you who read this know me, and know that I got to go to Ireland for three months one year ago. Without getting into too much detail, I think it’s safe to say that my time there was the best three months of my life. Anyway, back to this year’s group, and being a freshman. The first thing I noticed about this year’s ISP facebook group is that this year’s freshmen are way, WAY more tuned in to facebook than my group was at this time last year. That probably says more about the way facebook has grown than about either of our classes. As an economics major, I find facebook somewhat fascinating, but we’ll save the business of facebook for another post. Anyway, for the sake of ISP, increased student facebook savvy is probably a good thing. You see, as kids are just figuring out how to use the school’s email system, facebook might be an easier way to get them information and answer their questions. Also, they can interact on a largely superficial level with the people in charge of the program, and their fellow students.
At this point, I think you and I can both see this probably won’t be a short post. Oops. Oh well.
Enough about facebook’s social impact on freshmen traveling abroad. My original point was that I sort of miss being a freshman. I waited all summer, not knowing what to expect, worried that things wouldn’t go well, which turned out to be just about the most unnecessary worry ever. After the worrying, it was time to pack. What do you take with you when you visit a country you’ve never been to before for three months?
The kids going on the trip started to exchange emails, basically describing ourselves and our interests. Some of the emails were funny, others were uninteresting, still others were very intriguing. Some kids attached pictures of themselves, and I remember checking them to see if the girls on the trip were cute. One email sounded bitter about missing out on an academic award, which can seem a little haughty, as you could imagine. Turns out, the kid who wrote it just has that kind of a sense of humor, which doesn’t come across well in emails. We were roommates, and are still great friends. That aside, I was nervous. What if the other kids just weren’t like me? Think of all the things that could go wrong with international travel! Will I miss my friends back home?
When I got to campus for the week of preparation before we actually left for Ireland, several moments really put me at ease about the whole trip, and from there, I never looked back. The first happened shortly after my arrival on campus. We put my bags in my room (which turned out to be an extremely temporary arrangement), and walked outside–I think we had to take care of some business regarding AP credits, or something along those lines. I realized I had forgotten something, so I returned to the room. When I went in, I was greeted by my new and temporary roommate, Matt. I remember his big smile, I remember that he was wearing that necklace he always wears, I remember that he was wearing a British soccer jersey, and I remember that his dad was there, too, fiddling with his computer. But most of all, I remember telling my family about it when I went back outside, especially the part where I told my brother that he seemed like a really cool guy. A year later, Matt is one of my very best friends.
So what were the other things that happened to calm me down? I remember running into Paul in a stairwell doorway (I liked his shoes–New Balance 574s–because I had a pair myself in brown, although his were navy), and he was as easygoing and goofy as he’s proven to be ever since. I remember how intimidating Ben looked during our worship time in the DC atrium, and how quiet he and Zach were near the start. I remember Eric playing his guitar that first week. I remember realizing that I could learn a lot from guys like Eric, Adam and Luke about guitar, and from others musically. I did learn a lot from them, and never said thanks. Until now.
I remember the ice cream social, when it was finally just kids, no parents. The table was quiet, although Paul and I were our typical loudmouth selves. I’m not sure Wiki said much that night. Maybe because we still called him Alex then. I remember our “speed dating,” and realizing that I didn’t have to worry about a shortage of cute girls. I remember Amanda, Brent, and LB laughing while we speed dated. I remember returning to the dorm, having to move to a different floor, and Daniel trying to tell us that euchre was played with 6-card hands. I remember that Brent and Matt were awfully friendly, asking them how they knew each other, and getting the “I’m friends with his sister” response. I remember when my parents left, and worrying that they would think I didn’t miss them, just because my eyes were dry as we said goodbye.
I remember visiting Luke’s grandparents with (most of) the guys; the “Fer Serious World”, repacking, the girls having way too much stuff, the bus ride to Chicago, the plane ride when I couldn’t sleep, the flight attendant who thought Adam and I said “vodka” when we really said “Fanta,” borrowing a sudoku puzzle from Amy, the “air sickness on my air sickness bag” landing, the dead-tired bus ride to what would become home, sitting in the back of the bus with Eric, calling my parents to say I was there safely, coming over the hill overlooking town and being momentarily breathless, rearranging the Man House, stepping on my beloved aviator sunglasses, and touring the town with Scott. Playing in our first in-Ireland worship time with Eric, I didn’t do too well, but he said I did fine (I’m sure he knew better, but I needed to hear that). Then came Riverdance and Glendalough, and I was hooked. We walked out of the theatre wide eyed, maybe finally grasping the magnitude of what we were undertaking.
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