Laugh to Keep from Crying

I am not even sure you can call the last few days a week. Since landing in London on September 14th I believe I have actually been living one long, long day. The adventures are endless. The first few days were a mad dash to check things off the list 1) get luggage to temporary flat (£134 taxi ride later - Thank you, Mom!) Check. 2) Find our way to the school (this was rather uneventful given that we had all been up for over 24 hours at this point and were beyond the point of thinking) Check. 3) Get "enrolled". eerrkkkk screeching halt! Enrollment was to begin at 1 p.m. We arrived between 1:15 - 1:30 to find the line of international students to be unimaginable. We were given a number on a green sticky note and told it would be a two hour wait! We walked around the Welcome Center and asked about phones -- the young student barely spoke English and couldn't answer any of our questions. Strike 1. After giving us a magazine about different companies we moved onto the next station: transportation. Again, the student was an undergrad 3rd year and spoke very little English. Where did we move again? Last I heard English was the common language! We asked about the Oyster Card (this is a prepaid magnetic card which gives slight discounts and quick access to London public transportation) -- he didn't know what it was. We asked about the lines and buses -- he said he'd never used them. We asked about what time the public transportation closed -- he said we should ask at the train station. Strike 2. Next we tried to register with the health center, but without an address they told us this was not possible and asked us to leave. Strike 3. We spoke to some banks, all of which said we would need a "bank letter" from the school in order to get an account. Bingo! The next station was for bank letters. What? You can't get a bank letter until you have officially "enrolled"? Strike 4. We should have been out then! After waiting in line for 30 minutes to register with the police department just to find out that Americans are not required to do this, we decided to take a seat on the cold hard tile floor in the hallway to wait and with so many people around we just wanted to be out of the way. We waited and waited and waited and then waited some more. At 4 p.m., after 2 1/2 hours of waiting they finally told us that we would not be able to enroll today and to come back the next morning at 9 a.m. Finally, completely struck out! Feeling tired, cold and completely depleted we dragged ourselves in the typical foggy, light rain, cold London weather back to the train station and rode the 45 minutes back to Waterloo Station. Wednesday, September 15th seemed to have a better start as the bright sun shined through the fabulous flat my uncle so kindly arranged for us to stay in the first few days. Today would be better. And indeed it was! We beat the rush at enrollment. Although, even without the crowds of hundreds of international students it was clear that organization is not a strong point at the University. Still, enrollment was complete and our student IDs were in hand. There was a slight hiccup at the bank letter table when the printer wouldn't work but after some instruction on how to find the LCR (also know as a library) letters were in hand and we were off to the bank! Banks sure do like taking advantage of international students and require £8 a month and a 12 month contract in order hold an account. However, the bank rep would let me open the account without an address -- so I guess I'll eat the £96! Now on to getting a cell phone… I had met a nice man named Sam who worked at a cell phone provider shop the night before and we decided to make the long trek back into Central London to talk to Sam about our cell phone options. He was a huge help! I am now a pay as you go Vodafone member, as well as Mom and Kelly! Feeling quite proud of ourselves we headed off to eat some cheap Chinese and hit the sack. Thursday, September 16th was my first day of orientation or what they call induction week. I must admit it came as quite a shock to find out that my school requirements were beginning more than a week earlier than the original date told to me months ago. The lectures started at 9 a.m. and were to last until 5 p.m. Thankfully, I was able to leave around 3! Feeling rushed and beginning to get a little nervous about not having housing the next day when we were scheduled to leave the fabulous guest flat things began to fall apart. For the first time since landing in London the tears landed too! And they just wouldn't stop! From 7 p.m. until 1 a.m. the tears fell -- there wasn't a dry eye in the flat! Friday, September 17th would have to be a better day, but could any day get worse than the day before? Mom left at 6 a.m. that morning. It was so hard to see her go! I knew she felt bad about the tears from the night before and the thought of tackling flats (and making a decision) on my own felt like more than I could bear! I'm not sure at this point if we were just beyond the point of hysterics or if it was a conscious choice -- but we began to laugh to keep from crying. After asking to be excused from induction for the day Kelly and I began to tackle the task of moving our luggage. It would only take 45 minutes we said -- wrong again! Two rollers, a hiker’s backpack and an over night bag (each) weighing well over our total body weight were dragged from Central London to Northeast London. Finally we arrived… three hours later! The hostel turned out to be a pleasant surprise; clean, remodeled, and in an all girls’ dorm. Can't get much better than this! We had been able to schedule appointments to view flats for that same day. We showed up to Kelly's first appointment only one hour late. It was a small studio apartment that really didn't fit her needs. The next place was a winner and she later called and took the room. One girl down -- one more to go! My viewings were not as productive; and the walking instructions on google aren't always to be trusted. We walked over four miles to a studio apartment in what felt like the middle of no where just to walk into a room nastier than anything I've ever seen which happened to be in an area that made me very uncomfortable. However, I'm not sure what's worse, the fact that the stove was right next to the bed (which could only be convenient if I wanted to cook from bed and was more likely a fire risk), the dried pee and pubic hair left on the toilet seat from the previous tenant or the fact that the shower was not big enough for me to shower -- if I had wanted to. In about one minute we had viewed the room and graciously thanked the jerk who showed us. He had refused to give us directions but fussed when we were 20 minutes late. The next stop was better, but not by much. On the flip side the roommates would have been worth taking the room! But when he told me that the landlord lived in Africa and didn't even know the rates of his house I realized this wasn't the best place to be. It was not my definition of clean and very much looked like a frat guys’ college house. The only reason to take the room would be to have fun friends living around -- but even he said he was looking to move closer to the city. So, we made the hour long trip back to Northeast London and called it a night. It was well after 8 p.m. at this point. Once we finally arrived home around 10 p.m. we realized we had been so busy we hadn't eaten all day. A quick trip to the Salibury's market, a few strawberries, some chocolate, two cold beers, a frozen pizza and a long chat with the super friendly cashier who was close to 50 and openly flirting with us, we were good to go -- straight to bed! Tomorrow is bound to be a calmer day, we said...