the internationalists
our international group has grown with the constant trickle of arrivals from around the globe. three of my permanent roommates have arrived, a girl from tokyo, a boy canadian and an aussie girl, making the isolation here seem less complete. they are all good people.
the orientation sessions are packed and dry, but we are suffering through them with wit and small shrugs.
the internationals I’ve fallen in with are a great group. we’re having what I can only assume is oft-repeated fun with our accents and the english language. there was a session of circle of death, american rules, and a heated game of catch phrase that was further hampered by the inclusion of our french friends and six liters of cider.
our exploration of glasgow continues in concentric circles, or maybe more like a spider’s web, as we work our way out from campus and city centre, discovering new connections and small paths that merge our understanding of the breathing city.
there was a ‘supermarket session’ this morning, in which we met with representatives of the different faculties and discussed our class choices.
an interesting opportunity presents itself by studying at the university of glasgow. the ancient school forges relationships with other prestigious glasgow schools, and thusly I am afforded an offer to study at both the glasgow school of art and the national piping centre.
ignoring the stereotypical ramifications of studying the bagpipe, I believe the course on the history of scottish song, as well as the tutorials on the instrument itself, are some of the best ways in which I may get a handle on scottish culture. the bagpipe is an instrument that in its essence breeds humour, and in all the ways that it is ridiculous is it also beautiful. no other sound is as evocative of this country than that bassy whine.
at the glasgow school of art, I plan to take a course in black and white photography. the camera, all film, paper, and chemical supplies are provided for me, allowing a stress-free exploration of composition and light.
in the supermarket session I met with a senior theatre professor who told me that the chances of my being seated in an upper-level playwriting course were slim. after a long conversation, though, I think I may have impressed upon him my drive and dedication to the art form and believe I may have warranted another look.
my photographic journeys continue in the gallery below, in which myself and my fellow internationals walk from glasgow campus to city centre.
This entry was written by , posted on 09/08/2009 at 1:56 pm, filed under words. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink.
last days of eau claire
in june, the summer seemed impossibly long; a marathon of beer drinking. my social calendar was full, and I spent my time divided between the river and the bar, putting the scottish thoughts out of my head until the last possible second.
I’d guess that’s now.
we had a nice little going away party for me, graciously attended by thirty of my closest friends. still, it didn’t really hit home that I was about to pack up and jump across the pond until I started moving things out of the house. holly guided me through seven or so boxes of detritus and tyler drew mustaches on the babies plastered on a huggie’s box full of books.
I’ve been gathering all the necessary bits of information to guide me on my journey; flight seems entirely bureaucratic. I’ve printed off a boarding pass and attempted to maintain a strong collection of identifying documents in order to thwart the already emotionally taxing ballet of airport security and customs.
what scares me are the interchanges, hopping off of a flight in chicago and making it to the transatlantic, avoiding the crowds in amsterdam so that I can jet to glasgow international and then, somehow, finding my way across an unfamiliar city with one hundred twenty pounds of luggage to my supposed rented room without offending too many locals with my brash accent and, I don’t know, wrong color shirt or something.
I’ll be updating this blog as much as I can, which can hopefully amount to one post every two days, or some ratio equally verbose. I intend to take a lot of pictures.
if I am inspired in glasgow, which I sincerely hope to be, I’ll be updating poetry and prose on allourfailures. watch my flickr and twitter with similar tenacity. the phone number listed under the contacts dropdown is my google voice account. I encourage you to leave me encouraging voicemails while I am abroad. I’ve got a skype, too: “cjkrueger.”
if I develop any other internet presences, I will be sure to let you know about them. drop me a line on facebook. email me. in this century, the internet is a link across the ocean, make good use of it, or not, whatever.
if possible, I intend to post immediately about my transatlantic journey on the 3rd. wish me luck.
This entry was written by , posted on 08/30/2009 at 7:49 pm, filed under words and tagged nerves, nostalgia, summer. Leave a comment or view the discussion at the permalink.