Of Homesickness and Disappointment

There are apparently 5 stages to culture shock when you move to a new place, they are listed as followed (this is taken from the culture shock handout the Warwick International Office gave us in our orientation packet):

1. Honeymoon or incubation stage. Everything may seem new and exciting.
2. Transition period. Communication problems occur and feelings of incompetence and frustration at not being understhood may arise.
3. Realization of some understanding, a feeling of direction and of wanting to belong.
4. Recognition that the new culture has both good and bath things to offer.
5. Re-entry shock. this occurs when you return home.

Of course, not everyone goes through the stages but during orientation, they say that after you get through Stage 2, everything gets better. Well, while I did not get the culture shock of "oh my god, I'm in England and everything is so different" when I first arrived, lo and behold, I did go through the homesickness/disappointment/"Everything sucks, what the hell am I doing here?"

It all began my first Monday at the University of Warwick, January 5th, only 3 days after I arrived. After what can only be described as a hellish first day (which started out fine enough, it was snowing), I did not get the classes I wanted (only having 5 options to choose from), had no one to talk to, nowhere to go, and thus ended up spending the end of the first day of class alone in my room wondering why am I not having that fantastic time with my hypothetical English friends. Then, to relieve boredom, I went on that evil entity known as Facebook. It was then, looking at the status of the people back home that I realized, fuck, I am on the other side of the world, everybody's lives are going on without me, I don't have any of the my closest friends or family to make me feel better, and I am utterly utterly alone. To top it off, I don't know if the classes I'm taking will transfer over to UCLA, not to mention they are classes I tried my best to avoid while at UCLA. And I was afraid that talking about it with someone would cause me collapse into a whimpering, blubbering mess, the likes of which I have not felt in quite a long time. I expected this to happen in theory but I never imagined it would be that bad or how absolutely miserable I would feel. It's amazing how, at that moment, in a house with 12 people, where you can hear the sounds of the people in the next room, how completely alone you feel.

And what to do?

Roll with it, find someone to talk to (or text with), avoid Facebook like the plague, and sleep. Tomorrow is another day. And most of all, have faith that it will get better.

The rain from my window, serene almost.

And a week later...it has. Classes are better (I finally got into a Romantic Poetry class after waiting a week for it to open), I've met some really cool people, both in my flat and outside of it, and despite the rain, everything is beautiful. As always, you have to be kiên nhẫn, be patient and have faith that despite how bad it may look sometimes, everything will look ụp

Next post, join me as I finally go into town!

Random Britishisms I learned today:

• "Where's Waldo" in England is actually called "Where's Wally." In the words of my flatmates, "Waldo's an ugly name!"
• "Pop in"/"Pop out" - to quickly go into somewhere/quickly exit
• British accents become normal and less exotic after you listen to it for a really long time (such as having to hear your flatmates speak like that for a week now)
• "Soda" refers to club soda, not soft drinks.