Above and Beyond
by Heather Alida Snodgrass
Imagine being 21, in a foreign country and standing alone in a stranger’s front hall. My parents had just walked out the door, gotten in their taxi, and left me to my own devices for three months. I had never been in the situation where I knew no one and had little idea of what to expect.
Rewind to August of 1999, and the previous semester I had learned that my beloved college roommate was spending the next fall in England. Michelle was the coolest girl I had ever lived with. Needless to say, I was heartbroken at the thought of her being all the way across the pond. I called home that night to update my dad on the week’s events. I mentioned to him that Michelle was studying abroad, wistfully saying, “I wish I could do that…”. My father’s immediate response was, “Well, why don’t you?” And that put into motion what would become a wonderful personal adventure at Kingston University.
My new home for the semester was a four-hundred-year-old cottage in the shadow of Hampton Court Palace. My new “family” was the Clark-Robertons, a pleasant family of three. They did their best to comfort me and help me settle into unfamiliar territory. The cottage had a tiny front yard and a good-sized backyard with climbing roses and sweet lilacs. At a later time, I would photograph numerous rosy sunsets over the historic stone wall. Though it was a pleasant place to stay, I was weighed down with uncertainty. All the previous notions of glamour from being a world traveler quickly fell away. I had two weeks until my classes at Kingston University started, and five days until my mysterious housemate appeared. I would not be able to see Michelle’s familiar face for far too long. I would have felt far more relaxed at that moment if I had known that I was about to meet my new best friend.
Sim in Chinatown
Sim’s smile was the kind that takes up a person’s whole face. It stretched from her mouth, to her eyes, to her forehead. I took one look at her smile and I felt a sense of recognition. That night after dinner, we sat knee to knee on my bed, talking and laughing as though we were sisters. There were times during those three months that I was scared or unsure, hurt or homesick, But I always had Sim. We would walk into Kingston every Sunday from our little hamlet to go to the university gym, “to sport,” as she would say. Then we would always stroll through the city center, talking about our studies, arm-in-arm. Sometimes we would stop at her favorite Japanese store, looking at stickers and cute pencil boxes. Or maybe we would walk through Topshop, admiring the latest trendy fashions. Our Sunday afternoons would always end with tea at Starbucks, hands wrapped around the mugs to keep warm.
Besides the actual experience of studying abroad, the best thing about being in England was meeting Sim. But I had many other adventures and met others that are vivid in my mind. It was unique to be in a group of white Americans, holding our own in a predominately Pakistani and British school. We had one class together, a course that compared British and American life. Outside of that one hour twice a week, all of us were scattered among our various programs. Many of my American comrades chose to associate predominately with one another. I socialized almost exclusively with non-Americans. My housemate was a Chinese-Dutch citizen. My other two best friends were Salima: a Pakistani-Italian, and Dean: another Brit with African-American, Chinese, and Irish blood. My experience in those three months was influenced and enhanced greatly by these friendships. Being from a largely white community in North Carolina, I had never had such opportunity to learn about cultures other than mine.
Home Sweet Home
One experience at Kingston burned itself into my head because it was a first for me. Quite frequently, Sim and I would have “tea” together between classes in the afternoon. Tea for us usually consisted of chips and mayonnaise in the school cafeteria. One day, we were later than usual having our tea. We walked into the cafeteria as always, and headed for our usual spot. At that point, I began looking around and noticed that I was the only white face in the room. Every person in there was of Eastern or Asian descent. I was not used to being the lightest person in the room. Where I came from, it was usually the opposite. People are so fair in Western North Carolina that I was always considered “the ethnic one,” due to my olive skin. I am thankful for such a humbling experience. I wish everyone could feel what it is like to be the minority just once, it is a perspective I have never forgotten.
Traveling outside of England allowed me even more of a perspective. The close proximity to other countries made it possible to explore them on breaks and weekends. My first outing was to Dublin with three girlfriends over a long weekend. We traveled by train and ferry, arriving before daybreak. Tired but excited, the girls and I hefted our backpacks and walked the several remaining blocks to the city center. We dropped off our things at the hostel we had reserved, an old brick building with a winding staircase and cheerfully painted walls. The proprietor was kind enough to let us eat breakfast there before we continued on our way.
Our weekend was filled with a healthy variety of activities: St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Guinness Brewery and Trinity College, where we viewed the ancient Book of Kells. We played cards with French rugby fans in a pub and ate the best fish and chips in all of Dublin. It was a colorful trip that expanded my already growing love for travel.
My other trip outside of England was to Paris, over our fall break. I went with four other Americans, two guys and two girls. The five of us went the cheaper route and traveled by train, ferry, and bus to get to France. Although a very long trip, this mode of travel had its advantages: I was the only one awake on the bus to witness the sun rising over the Paris skyline. Our tired bunch arrived at the Metro on the morning after Halloween. We were greeted by intoxicated Parisians, still wearing their costumes and singing loudly. Over the next four days we crammed in the Sacre Coeur, the Dali Museum, the Louvre, Le Catacombs, the Eiffel Tower and a day trip to Versailles. My two favorites were the latter.
Versailles
Versailles was pure magic, with its wide, green lawns and sweeping history. My fondest memory of Paris involved the Eiffel Tower. I sat on the grass beneath it, enjoying the evening air and realizing the privilege of being in that very spot.
My semester abroad cannot be completely depicted by this small array of stories, but it gives a sense of the experience. It is a time in my life that continues to influence me up to the present in many ways. Sim and I have stayed in touch on a regular basis for the last eight years, a friendship that is among my most cherished. Most importantly, my perspective of life and the people around me was completely altered, for which I am grateful.
*****
Heather is a budding writer and fairly seasoned traveler. Her travels have taken her to England, Greece, Wales, Ireland, France, Mexico, Canada and all over the United States. The place she would most like to go back to is Paris and the place she would most like to visit is Turkey. Writing and traveling are two of her passions and she’s happy to be able to combine them for your reading pleasure!
Looking for Beth’s book recommendations for this topic? Click here!