tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81357080799764006482024-03-05T12:24:40.797+01:00Jumping on the bandwagonAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8135708079976400648.post-33216732971829881542013-10-14T23:50:00.002+01:002013-10-14T23:53:14.822+01:00The real work starts...on a beach, in Southern Spain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It’s <i>finally </i>over.
The intensive “review” month seems like a distant memory now, and with that
means a new timetable which, consisting of three half days, it really doesn’t
help settle my mind that this is what is being addressed as ‘intensive’ (fingers
crossed I don’t get a JCB pouring work onto me tomorrow). Along with having
finished the review month, it also means that we no longer have Moroccan Arabic
classes, and whilst that’s all well and good, the only way we’d be seeing off
that module is by taking a final exam. The shock horror in having an exam that
counts towards the final mark for the year this early on was enough to get to
the best of us, but thankfully the majority of said test was reading
comprehension. The elation when leaving that room wasn’t quite the “schools out
for summer” type which after years of taking external exams has become almost a
right of way as soon as you leave the humdrum atmosphere of an exam.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The “special relationship” (get your political thinking caps
on for that one) was once again at the foray over the weekend, since we had our
fellow Trans-Atlantic cousins over for dinner, who we’d met whilst traversing
the fringes of the Moroccan desert. Although no politics were mentioned, things
such as the sheer crudity of British English were discussed at length, and made
me realise how awful my language had gotten since I graced the doors of Leeds
Uni last year. It was nice to actually sit and chat with them like civilised
human beings instead of simply going for the old antiquated arguments about the
Empire and other typically annoying ‘yarth’ as one of my housemates calls it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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With <b><i>Eid </i></b>drawing closer (in a matter of
days in fact), the sheer thrill of not having to study for a week is enough to
make even the most studious pupil happy. It has to be said as well, you can
certainly feel the sense of celebration in the Medina. Unfortunately we had to
decline celebrating the day at our neighbours’ house due to travelling, but the
streets have been increasingly busy in the past few days, with not only humans,
but sheep, cows, all being taken to their respective homes in time for the big
day. The worst case of congestion as it were appears to be in the local
Carrefour, where queues are getting out of hand as people ‘Hail Mary’ various
groceries from one end of the supermarket to the other in order to keep their
space in the long, winding queues which are reminiscent of the pre-Christmas
rush back home.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Finally, everything is planned for our big crossing back
into Europe for the week via the Spanish town of Tarifa, where I await to indulge in some of Spain’s finest
gastronomical offerings, since the sights of tagines and mint tea is starting
to grate a little, despite the fact that if someone offered me either I’d still
happily accept them, but they come nowhere near some <b>churros con chocolate </b>or <b>boquerones
fritos</b>. Oh and there's a beach, where I intend to sleep. <i style="font-weight: bold;">A LOT</i>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOgjUWycqmngjcqTGpkXeODuZQ46M37YvatzXev5r2WgjrGMro2umNmtfDFLQrvEwJgnko4HHqbxus3QruZ26bKqwcN_tPW-ivGTPM_WttgOSDV65LsjdStt3E6ywKnmehmXfVCXXA8NbN/s1600/1375209_10200773585197061_1854053015_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="71" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOgjUWycqmngjcqTGpkXeODuZQ46M37YvatzXev5r2WgjrGMro2umNmtfDFLQrvEwJgnko4HHqbxus3QruZ26bKqwcN_tPW-ivGTPM_WttgOSDV65LsjdStt3E6ywKnmehmXfVCXXA8NbN/s400/1375209_10200773585197061_1854053015_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8135708079976400648.post-45155202678788835672013-10-05T21:18:00.002+01:002013-10-05T21:18:16.637+01:00The One Month Wall<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqNxsD74qLA_34WeUTGlU5mnVioBuMRLMvbB5G-lUXEqPCXdTrgHp_XfH3ecURCiXTII0zSh5O1hAdSS9JY6P_ZZF7nqkY0XnVAlA5F6dbYB3S4a47gtR0TtBc_aJO8UH2BE3AGFCyLj2/s1600/1267953_10200698337355912_679565367_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqNxsD74qLA_34WeUTGlU5mnVioBuMRLMvbB5G-lUXEqPCXdTrgHp_XfH3ecURCiXTII0zSh5O1hAdSS9JY6P_ZZF7nqkY0XnVAlA5F6dbYB3S4a47gtR0TtBc_aJO8UH2BE3AGFCyLj2/s1600/1267953_10200698337355912_679565367_o.jpg" height="71" width="400" /></a></div>
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Today I'm subject to that strange feeling all year abroad
students get, the “one month wall”. Having survived the past four
weeks is quite a big milestone, especially for someone like me who jumped (or
more realistically, skydived) from the no inhibitions partying of first year
into a more study-intensive second year, without actually feeling like a second
year student, more like an in-transit Fresher who hasn't quite made it yet.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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A lot of things have happened over the past month, from
sorting out our housing, trying to become fluent in the local dialect, or
travelling to the desert. And studying <b>A LOT.</b> University here has
slowly started to take its toll thanks to the abnormally early starts on a
Thursday and Friday, having to wake up even before the cockerel-shaped alarm
clocks that are in the Medina here sound for the crack of dawn. Thankfully, we
get a new timetable next week for the rest of the year, which we're hoping is a lot less strenuous.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Another event which is fast approaching is the Islamic New
Year which happens in about a fortnight, and consequentially means <b>HOLIDAYS</b>.
One huge advantage of following typical university semester dates whilst in a country observing Islamic traditions is that you get an extra little holiday
that wouldn't exist in the normal academic calendar. We've all worked out that there's practically a reading week's worth of days off, so travelling is the priority for when the times comes. The
majority of the students have decided to head to the Catalonian dream city of
Barcelona, whilst others have gone with a return to Leeds, which leads onto the
next topic of being “university sick”.<br />
<br />
The pictures bombarding social media sites from the past two weeks of the
drunken antics of the student masses, or put more basically, the sheer end of
summer carnage on campus is enough to make anyone miss university life,
especially when you’re not even in the same country, making even the slightest
attempt to get back there for one night impossible. But in typical “the glass
is always half full” mentality that has to be taken in this situation, there is
always something to do here to get one up over all those people who are
suffering from “Fresher’s flu” including the weather which is still in the 30’s,
and the ridiculously inexpensive train tickets that take you from one side of
the country to another, making Morocco a travellers paradise.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A final thing to cover is last week’s desert trip. Despite
being cooped up in a minibus with other students for seven hours (and in the
process driving them absolutely insane) the weekend definitely felt like a once
in a lifetime opportunity. Hopes were almost dashed when we were told there was
a sandstorm, but no one backed out and went on with the first part of our
journey, a camel trek. It took three hours to get to the oasis against the constant battering from flying sand, and by the time we arrived, I couldn't feel the lower half of my body, but the night was incredible. There
was traditional Berber dancing, a dinner, then we spent the rest of the night
stargazing, which is much better than the many attempts tried back at home
since each star that we could physically see was clear, uninterrupted by the
light pollution that’s graced modern day society. Something which topped even
that was the sunrise in the morning, which I happily woke up at five o’ clock
for. All in all, it was easily one of the best trips that I've taken in my time as a
student. Just to leave you with something, here are a few pictures taken by
myself and my house mate of said sunrise.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1M3iF1COgnga_h-rOREDACWi3O4JkrFtG2SOZvXNUCdU0AIqCqFITwZs6wKOi3AR4n5u7tMBJJwfqMiAGw-GeX9iZDYx572VqxOs7t-fumTPYyvuZsOLkKkn2iB4CEEgcHI_Hz4LHrpv6/s1600/1375180_10151686093338613_2080003686_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1M3iF1COgnga_h-rOREDACWi3O4JkrFtG2SOZvXNUCdU0AIqCqFITwZs6wKOi3AR4n5u7tMBJJwfqMiAGw-GeX9iZDYx572VqxOs7t-fumTPYyvuZsOLkKkn2iB4CEEgcHI_Hz4LHrpv6/s1600/1375180_10151686093338613_2080003686_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8135708079976400648.post-68727569258465527402013-09-22T19:49:00.004+01:002013-09-22T19:53:38.330+01:00واحد جوج تلاتـه... learning dialects <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The first week of lessons is finally over, and thankfully it wasn't as strenuous as it was last year, since the dreaded Fresher's Flu is non-existent, albeit being replaced by the unholy "Medina water flu" as our house has named it, and experienced over the course of the week as a result of (as the name suggests) drinking the water in our area, which isn't recommended for people on a short stay in Fez.<br />
<br />
Since we've officially started university, the evenings have been consumed by the number one favourite pastime of students, doing <b>homework</b>. A consequence of this was having that worrying epiphany that this year is <i>essential</i> if we're aiming for that First Class in final year. Luckily, surpassing the stage of being a fresher means that the work is actually<i> </i>getting done <b>for the moment;</b> undoubtedly there will be a stage later this year where I'll be found procrastinating, or attempting to do the most menial and pointless tasks such as rearranging my room, or absolutely nothing, in an effort to avoid the ski run of sheets that will have formed from my desk to the front door.<br />
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The one major discrepancy that I (and most probably the whole group) currently have is with the colloquial dialect here. It's wonderful to learn, and the locals are elated and equally startled when they see a foreigner learning what is known to be a very hard version of the Arabic language. There have been times where I've mentally curled up in a ball and started rocking back and forth since the word I might have know in Modern Standard is completely different in Moroccan. Despite this the teachers are very patient with us which is a great help, since half the class felt illiterate when they walked into lessons this week.<br />
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<br />
Apart from being educated, myself and many of the <b>Leeds </b>students have been slowly integrating ourselves into the Medina life, with neighbours and shopkeepers starting to recognise our faces, even having our preferred coffee stall (which provides a better cup of Joe than a certain international coffee chain). The kind attitude of the locals still hasn't waned, and I doubt it will at any point. There's no hiding that we have all enjoyed the feeling of "local celebrity" if you will, or using a standard phrase from university, feeling like a BNOC (Big Name On Campus for non-Leeds folk).<br />
<br />
On a final note- I think my blood sugar level has definitely increased due to my continued intake of mint tea which is that sweet you could pass it as liquid sugar. I can't foresee curbing the addiction though.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8135708079976400648.post-87931957994044910622013-09-10T19:48:00.000+01:002013-09-10T22:19:59.478+01:00First steps in Fez- The view from Dar Xariffa, the "Dishonest House"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<o:p> </o:p>I’m currently writing this looking out on the old Medina
from the balcony of my <i>Dar</i>. If that
doesn’t describe the elation I’m feeling with being on my <b>year abroad</b>, then I’ll put in in layman’s terms for you, ITS
AWESOME! I’m still not used to the scorching hot weather, and with having
stupidly packed for the winter without thinking of the continued summer here, a trip to the local shopping centre to get some shorts was much
needed, which was accompanied with a trip to what appears to be the only
remnant of Western culture out here, a Carrefour.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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The first few days of being here are all a bit of a blur at
the moment, since sorting out housing for the first time <i>and </i>being in a foreign country was definitely a lot more difficult
than the experience that many of my counterparts back home went through to
secure a half decent house, especially since myself and some other students
were looking for a home within the constantly buzzing and labyrinthine old
town, also known as <b>Fez el-Bali</b>,
instead of copping out and going for an apartment in the not-so-new <b>Ville Nouvelle</b>; and despite the chaos
of house hunting whilst dodging the onslaught of donkeys, walking tours and
various stalls thrown at us in the narrow streets of the Medina, everything and
everyone seemed to slow down a little when we returned to the <b>Funky Fez</b>, which is one hell of a
hostel, not only are the people in there amazing, but the price is ludicrously
low, to the point where I felt bad for paying next to nothing to get treated so
well!<br />
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By this point in this entry, you’re probably wondering where
the madness of student life that exists in good old Blighty is about to appear,
but you’ll be surprised to know that there is none, and with that I can see
that student life here is going to be very calm; worlds away from the
apocalyptic “party like its ‘99” style nights out on the neon (and vodka)
soaked high street of Leeds. This assumption can simply be made based on the
fact that the majority of the group here have lived off Moroccan mint tea,
maxing out on some days at 5 cups of the stuff, leaving people relatively flat
out relaxed and wanted to do nothing but socialise, the <b>alcohol-free </b>way, which is a nice change since, for the first time
in a long time I’m not the minority living in sobriety.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The other part you must also be undoubtedly questioning is
most likely to be the lack of studying that appears to be going on. Yes it’s
all well and good that I’m abroad and taking countless photos like any other
tourist, but why haven’t I picked up a pen and paper yet you ask? Simply put,
my course hasn’t started yet, and to put everyone (mainly my parents) at ease,
I have been to <b>ALIF </b>(the place where
I’m studying) a number of times for everything from sorting out housing,
welcome talks and collecting my course books for this year. The school is a
much better setting for learning than the settings of <b>Michael Sadler </b>or <b>Hilary
Place, </b>which many a Leeds student who studies Languages will be familiar
with.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Finally, my first experience of the Moroccan people. To
everyone that has mentioned the seedy mind-set of North Africans who apparently
“want to exploit you for easy money”, then unfortunately they are sadly
mistaken. The Moroccans are wonderful people, and yes there is the occasional
hassling from someone offering drugs or a street kid begging for money (at one
point I had my arm kissed), but they prove to be relatively few, with a lot of people
wanting to help you, and <b>not for profit</b>,
which is a great thing to see.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Oh, and the house is called <b>Dar Xariffa</b>, which we've translated as the "dishonest house" and assumed its called that since the door is quite small, yet the house that lies behind it is enormous given the path in which it's located.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8135708079976400648.post-82328504852536025822013-09-04T12:45:00.001+01:002013-09-04T12:45:41.207+01:00It's all coming together, I hope...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>OH MY GOD</b>. Those three words have constantly been on repeat in my mind for about a week now, and with only a few hours to go before I need to make the gargantuan trip from Liverpool to Stansted before my flight to <b>Fez </b>tomorrow, the mental state of taking everything but the kitchen sink is in full effect. The frantic running around the house making sure I've got my books from last year (which were nestled under a tonne of dust from all that "work" I did during the summer) is hardly ideal, but then again it wouldn't be me if I wasn't packing my bag with such little time to spare, yet trying to fit all of my life into one bag as if I'm permanently moving to the <b>Maghreb</b>.<br /><br />Despite all the apocalyptic chaos that I've described my life in, I can reassure you that it's just exaggeration from the sheer excitement/confusion that I won't be coming back to the lovely shores of Britain for <i>at least </i>three months, and won't be seeing my beloved <b>Leeds University </b>for the whole year abroad period. It also doesn't help that a multitude of people who have been fortunate enough to go to Morocco keep feeding me scare stories of their mothers, sisters or any other female companion being offered up to a shopkeeper in exchange for an army of camels, or the purveyor of the all-you-can-eat tagine restaurant located down some ill-lit alley of <b>Marrakesh </b>who's food hasn't sat well with what seems the entire contingent of people that have graced the shores of <b>Morocco</b>.<div>
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Although it's not all bad. The fact that my flights are of an <i>extremely </i>reasonable price means that I've had every single friend, acquaintance and their aunt tell me that they're going to come and visit, which in one way is a good thing as I'll have some form of support hopefully, but on the other hand I'm sure the authorities will have their suspicions if they see a group in excess of about 25 people charging through the <b>Medina</b> looking for me and my house (which still hasn't been sorted out).</div>
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So as a little bit of advice for students going on their year abroad now and in the future, just remember this is <b>your personal experience</b>. It's nice that people have been to the country you're going to be living in for a year, but remember they've only been on holiday, so there's a lack of full immersion there, they won't be in the country with the same mindset as us year abroad students, since we're "<b>in it for the long haul</b>" so to speak, and have to adapt to the environment we're in.<br /><br />I'm sure it has to be said, if not on my behalf then at least for all year abroad students leaving or those that have already left, the level of enthusiasm that I'm facing right now is unbelievable, and I <i>am </i>looking forward to it all now!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8135708079976400648.post-35581486489421180162013-08-03T22:27:00.001+00:002013-08-03T22:27:05.478+00:00Ramadan in the Arab lands<p dir=ltr>The usual routine of fasting for a whole month is nearing its end, which always gives time for reflection.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Ramadan every year is a weird one, as often enough I seem to spend half of it holidaying somewhere (this year being Benicàssim), meaning I spend the rest of the year making up for lost days, or so I attempt to. </p>
<p dir=ltr>On top of that, going from fasting 20 hours a day to almost half that has kept me sort of sane, albeit for the insane amounts of food being consumed at Iftar (Sunset), which here in Dubai is like feeding time at the zoo, or climbing an Everst sized mountain of rice amongst other Arabian gastronomical wonders, leaving you feeling like your waistline has expanded to the measures of said mountain.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Despite the supposed "madness" many people think you're being subjected to simply because you don't eat or drink for a while, it's definitely the calmest time of year for a lot of people. Thank God it didn't fall in the academic year, I couldn't imagine having to fast whilst being exposed to the endless party season in Leeds.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Peace.<br><br></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCXxYCZC4HXh6GxTEQ60yX5AH2fdjBAmEmBqyve0MWKJi-vvkxwMLnYa4Lokhf5vRpg9naH0NZwCBPLk8sC6MApARwLcEa-uXWigYv1k_V6AVyp_GPVP3a7FeawAl3VyqFHnu3UXbKw_ub/s1600/20130803_232559.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCXxYCZC4HXh6GxTEQ60yX5AH2fdjBAmEmBqyve0MWKJi-vvkxwMLnYa4Lokhf5vRpg9naH0NZwCBPLk8sC6MApARwLcEa-uXWigYv1k_V6AVyp_GPVP3a7FeawAl3VyqFHnu3UXbKw_ub/s640/20130803_232559.jpg"> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8135708079976400648.post-13492178204445077152013-06-19T22:57:00.001+01:002013-06-19T23:51:01.303+01:00The Roadtrip<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So, at the time which I'm writing this, I'm about to venture off on what the title suggests, a roadtrip (suggestive titles are my forte obviously).</div>
<div dir="ltr">
Sharing what is essentially a capsule on wheels for several hours tests friendships to extreme limits, whether it be the varying music tastes, with arguments over listening to Drake or the latest Scooter song (God forbid), the war that ensues over the opened packet of crisps which imploded during said process and left the driver partially blinded, or the classic "shotgun" rule which clearly segregates one member to the cold, harsh environment of the back of the car, unable to listen to the conversation happening in first class ( AKA the front of the car) and mostly loathe their own being until reaching the set out destination. </div>
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Despite all the trouble that are presented from breathing the same air as people for a few hours, it's an experience that should be had, because everyone loves to pretend they're as angry as the driver and shout at the old woman doing 25mph in the slow lane!</div>
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Peace.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8135708079976400648.post-69319685666905045332013-06-13T11:36:00.002+01:002013-06-13T11:36:46.432+01:00The move<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The saddening fact of finally moving out from halls is hitting me like a train wreck. Being the first to arrive and the last one to leave almost gives it the same feeling as I had when I left home to come to University in September, I've become accustomed to living independently (albeit for the financial support from my parents) and I'd also like to think that I was the pioneer of this flat, having braved it out on my own for so long, and only going home during the designated holidays.<br /><br />Actually living on my own for the first time wasn't something that daunted me, I don't quite know why that is, but I never had a nervous sentiment towards having to take full control of my life which up to that point consisted of eating and sleeping whilst my parents did the rest. That's probably why it's ridiculously hard to just up and go, it's a cruel cycle of where you pay £x to know that you'll be leaving come the summertime, and on top of that, the events that often ensue in a student flat are something to be laughed at that will probably happen time and time again until Graduation. The smallest things such as washing turn into an almost post-apocalyptic battle of seeking justice and retribution along with bringing down the culprit who has left their plates unwashed since the start of term, but contrastingly no one lifts a finger after a night out when the flat door can't be closed due to an abundance of food containers from "Istanbul Fried Chicken" and bottles of cheap booze emblazoned with lacklustre labels stating: "the finest Shandy... in Scarborough". The system of student living is flawed in almost all aspects, which is why it's one of the best times of peoples' lives, since there's room for errors to be made, and you can get away with literally anything (apart from murder, that's not a route I'd suggest you go down during your time as a student, or ever really)<br /><br />Peace.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8135708079976400648.post-84947942772114377552013-06-13T02:02:00.002+01:002013-06-13T02:10:31.498+01:00Jumping on the bandwagon<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So,<br />
<br />
since every man and his dog (the intelligent sort of canine companion at least) has taken up the ever popular pastime of writing a blog, I thought I'd do as I've appropriately titled this entry and "jump on the bandwagon" prior to going off to one of the many destinations that I've booked myself to go to (all thanks to the quintessential bank that is Student Finance funding all this). But on top of just writing about the latest and most obscure Middle Eastern things that I'll undoubtedly come across during my Year Abroad, I'll probably be chucking in a few extras such as music reviews on tracks which I think should be shared with the world, whether that be my specialist field of House music or something completely obscure, to things related to Leeds Student Radio i.e. LSR (something which has consumed the majority of my time of First year), to just daily occurrences, like the weirdest dish that I'll have tried in the Arab lands. So without much else to say, stay tuned for something to pop up which I hope will entertain, and if not that, then just another way of light reading to procrastinate from "working hard" (or maybe not so hard given the general stereotype that we students seem to follow of laziness, slobbery and general constant hangovers).<br />
<br />
PEACE.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05029748150132310499noreply@blogger.com0