By Lauren Dezenski, Staff Writer
I’m not even in London yet and I have to keep reminding myself that “study” comes before “abroad” in “study abroad.”
I’m writing this about a thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean, en route to London to begin a semester studying abroad through BU’s journalism internship program. I have to admit, I’m really more concerned with my internship and where I’ll be traveling on breaks and weekends than when/where my classes are. Let’s chalk it up to “senioritis.”
I’ve always known I wanted to go abroad. Back in high school when I was in the throes of learning the Spanish language, I was dead-set on studying in a Spanish-speaking country. Now, most of my language skills have disappeared with age — though I can still throw out a couple swearwords when need be, so it’s just convenient London is English-speaking.
A couple of my friends went to London last fall. More specifically, they went to Oktoberfest. The experience undoubtedly broadened their horizons and also opened my mind to the glorious realization that, hey, I can do that too. The pictures of them in the tents drinking some beer and eating pretzels – two of my favorite things – and having fun with a group of people in a foreign country just looked like such another level of fun that I had to go.
A few months later, here I am, en route to the UK. It’s not exactly Oktoberfest - still working on that one – but I’m headed toward new surroundings, new friends, and new experiences. All on a new continent.
Once we land, it’s off to the Crofton, my home for the semester. I have no idea when classes start but I do know one of my political science classes has a field trip to Brussels. It’s a fact that political science + waffles + beer = a happy Lauren.
Until then, I’ll be fighting off jet lag and Instagram-ing my little heart out. Wanna follow along in real time? Follow my Instagram @LaurenDez and Twitter @LaurenDezenski. I’m also posting additional blogs beyond these weekly posts on my own website, laurendezenski.com, because it’s the semester-so-nice-I’m-going-to-write-about-it-twice.
Side note: Snaps to the Boston Logan International Airport E Terminal Burger King for serving my final meal in America until December 15. The E terminal had pretty slim pickings food-wise (Dunkin Donuts, whereforeart thou?), but Burger King shone like the beacon of hope and truth we all know it to be and delivered some glorious American fast food.
Lauren Dezenski is a senior studying journalism and political science, spending the semester studying abroad in London.
By Sanah Faroke, Staff Writer
Despite finals week quickly approaching, I cannot help but constantly think about my winter break back home. As a transfer student, this is my first time away from my family, and yes, I may slightly sound like a baby, but okay, fine―I do sound like a baby, but baby it’s cold outside, and I’m so ready to go back to my 80-degree weather and palm trees. Things that I have despised about my former city of Miami have now become characteristics of a place I’ve longed to be apart of again.
I’ll admit, Christmas in Boston is probably more of a classic white Christmas. It’s something I’ve always wanted, but never experienced, and this cold weather really is wonderful. When it does snow, I feel like I’m walking in a winter wonderland, but home is home. Wouldn’t you agree? No matter where home is, that’s where your Christmas is as well. It doesn’t have to be snowing where I’m going, and I don’t have to walk by bare trees, either.
What is getting me through these final weeks of school is the image of walking off the airplane ramp, collecting my luggage and being embraced by home. The Spanish of Miami, the warm wind, the carefree atmosphere, my mothers’ hug. It’s home.
I think going home for the holidays is keeping everyone as sane as possible. Unlike Thanksgiving vacation, not everyone was able to fly home either because of ridiculously expensive flight tickets or living internationally, but for this one time, Boston’s student population will desert this city and fly back to the coop.
So while I’m stuck in my room wearing baggy sweats with my hair disheveled, a textbook in one hand and a jar of peanut butter in the other, my mind drifts back to the homeland. I just keep reminding myself there’s only ten more days till I return home. Wherever home is for you, it will have cheerful, holly feel, filled with chess nuts, candy canes, mistletoe, home cooked meals (yum!) and an ever-present love for your loved ones and love for your hometown. Keep that in mind to keep you going.