Londonward

It certainly doesn’t feel like it. The sheer amount of information, sights, sounds and smells makes it feel like a month, if not two. Talking to some people from school, I’ve found that I can actually give them tips on what buses or tubes to take. Didn’t expect that. In a way, I no longer feel a tourist, though I quite obviously am.

Another thing I didn’t expect was the weather. While I have become familiar with London rain (it not only falls from the sky but seems to envelop you from the ground up and the sides as well) it’s a great feeling to be walking in a t-shirt and jeans when it’s very nearly October. Last night’s thunder was different from Finnish thunder. It sounded just like it does in the movies, and I can’t figure out why it’s different here than in Finland. Sadly, I don’t remember what thunder sounded like elsewhere where I’ve lived.

Updates are still sporadic and pictures limited, as internet connections are a bit finicky. Still don’t have one at home.

It’s not all bad.

I’m not the oldest student in my group. There’s only around 12 of us in total, which makes for (hopefully) strong contacts. The people I’ve talked to so far seem nice enough, meaning I’m not dreading the first day of lectures.

The school makes constant mention of its support services for mental health issues. How many people do they expect to crack every year? Every induction session I’ve been in so far has also stressed the importance of independent study. The classes themselves are led by PhD candidates, so the professors themselves aren’t involved in actual teaching, just lectures. I’m just scared that a postgraduate my age with little to no pedagogical skills will leave us students to fend for ourselves in a maze of competing theories and unreadable books. I’ve never really had to put effort into studying, and now it seems like it’ll be all that I am going to be doing at school. Reading for a degree, indeed.

I’m glad I didn’t actually cough up in advance for the start-of-term parties at the school. While I do like a party, I felt really out of place on tuesday night, amidst a throng of 1500 students in three cramped rooms with people talking to those they knew from halls of residence. The weekly school party, “Crush!” is apparently just what the name implies. “Three rooms, 1500 people, 1 mad party” is the tagline. I don’t know if I’ll go.

It’s strange finally being in London, having hyped it up to myself in advance, and then realizing that I really don’t know how to do the clubbing thing that student life is so famous for. Besides, I really can’t dance.

Getting ready to go this morning was made a whole lot more exciting by this little guy.

LSE: Loud. Crowded. Disorganized. Hot. Loud Americans. Postgraduates born in 1985. Undergraduates registering with their parents by their side. A library with wall-to-wall carpeting. Waiting 1.5 hours in line for a student bus ticket form. Expensive food. A pretty grubby underground cafe/bar. Everyone seems to know everyone else. The ones that don’t make a good job of making it seem like they do.