Here's a long and boring story just for you. It's a lot less impressive than I like to pretend.
Christmas 2001: My aunt, most beloved, invites me to a Welsh course. I accept. She is thrilled.
All year I joke about how I'm going to eschew vowels from my life.
June 2002: Attend said Welsh course. I enjoyed myself thoroughly. It was too short! It was exhausting. I was very tired by the end, but I had learned quite a bit. My favorite bit was the reading work we got to do in the afternoons. Dreamy way to work through a language. It's such a weird mix of people - there are people there who do scholarly work and linguists and people of Welsh heritage and just like, Mumbly Joe Celtic Fair Goer and Discount Pete from the local Welsh Heritage committee - it's crazy. But I loved learning a language again, I loved the experience of it, and I loved the language itself.
July 2002: Decided I wanted to go abroad like nobody's business. Realized that none of my favorite professors would be around. Decided to high-tail it out of here.
August 2002: Met with the study abroad advisor to the college in my hometown. She's actually Welsh herself, and is dreamy beyond belief.
This is what we found:
My school approves no programs in Wales (she suspects a conspiracy) AND The deadline to submit a proposal to attend a non-approved program was in May. Whoops! Also, my school is discombobulated when it comes to study abroad.
I called my study abroad advisor at the Mawr and got the least encouraging response you could imagine. But she did say that I could submit a proposal the first day of classes.
I checked out books from the library on Wales. I did some thinkin' and some readin'. I spoke Welsh with my cat.
September 2002: Upon arriving back at school, I put together one kickass proposal. I beautifully argued my case, if I may say so. Okay, I may not. My advisor wrote me a lovely letter of recommendation.
I got approved, miracle of miracles. I started the process of applying to the Aberystwyth campus, but they don't respond to my emails, telephone calls, and other inquiries. Shan even emails them. Nothin'
October 2002: I got in touch with the advisor at the college in my hometown and she suggested applying to Bangor. This school is lovely. They reply to my emails and are prompt with the mail. I get my application off by the end of October.
December 2002: I get offered a place at Bangor. I had to harrass them via email in order to find out, though, and still don't believe that I'm going. It's really late and I don't know how housing will work, but I barely care. I'll camp on their goddamn front yard. I withdrew from my school. I buy my plane ticket.
2002-12-13, study abroad
before / after
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