the city of the dreaming spires
this revered place of education actually has its quirks. like professors donning regal academic gowns revealing hidden desires to be batman, and getting drunk (they call it getting pissed here) and dancing with their students in the college bar, or stumbling along the streets of oxford with ruddy faces.
calling professors by their first names have never been more refreshing. the same goes for seeing a familiar name in the lecture list, having read his/her books before. witnessing the genuine passion and fervor of the professors in their subject of choice. drinks with the professor who lives next door.
it seems so eclectic, so incoherent, so random. a victorian style college next to a red brick one. wooden staircases and stone-walled tunnels leading you to computer rooms. benign and smiling college nurses and welfare officers offering free condoms, with the promise of condom machines scattered in college in future.
days filled with lectures and tutorials, alternate nights of partying and staying up to rush essays. the professors promised us a minimum of 40hour work weeks, the seniors promised us 5. philosophy books written with symbols, numbers and proved using calculus.
being told by a guy that i need to moisturize more. lingo mistakes such as being "picked up" and actually crowd surfing.
i sometimes feel lost.
but then my friends pull me through it. "come on, lixin, let's go out and play. it's all right if you don't drink, lotsa people don't." "i love chinese food, teach it to me sometime, will you?" and cocooned in my room, on the rare occasions that i actually close my door, the warmth and privacy of talking to my family, seeing a fuzzy image of my green wardrobe and the smiling faces of my father amd brother, makes me feel so at home. having endless conversations with you, dear, and laughing at your funny faces. meeting up with fellow singaporeans in oxford. chatting effortlessly in singlish -- "your intonations are just so varied! it sounds so cool!" exclaimed my british friend.
i think i just might make it.
calling professors by their first names have never been more refreshing. the same goes for seeing a familiar name in the lecture list, having read his/her books before. witnessing the genuine passion and fervor of the professors in their subject of choice. drinks with the professor who lives next door.
it seems so eclectic, so incoherent, so random. a victorian style college next to a red brick one. wooden staircases and stone-walled tunnels leading you to computer rooms. benign and smiling college nurses and welfare officers offering free condoms, with the promise of condom machines scattered in college in future.
days filled with lectures and tutorials, alternate nights of partying and staying up to rush essays. the professors promised us a minimum of 40hour work weeks, the seniors promised us 5. philosophy books written with symbols, numbers and proved using calculus.
being told by a guy that i need to moisturize more. lingo mistakes such as being "picked up" and actually crowd surfing.
i sometimes feel lost.
but then my friends pull me through it. "come on, lixin, let's go out and play. it's all right if you don't drink, lotsa people don't." "i love chinese food, teach it to me sometime, will you?" and cocooned in my room, on the rare occasions that i actually close my door, the warmth and privacy of talking to my family, seeing a fuzzy image of my green wardrobe and the smiling faces of my father amd brother, makes me feel so at home. having endless conversations with you, dear, and laughing at your funny faces. meeting up with fellow singaporeans in oxford. chatting effortlessly in singlish -- "your intonations are just so varied! it sounds so cool!" exclaimed my british friend.
i think i just might make it.
posted by colours at
6:41 PM
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