Riding a foreign wave (cont.)

Part 2: Welcome ab(r)oad!


I still recall the very feeling of touch-down when the aircraft arrived at Manchester Airport. A mixture of bewilderedness and excitement. For a moment, I did not have time to think about what or who I had left behind; family, friends, familiar food...would have to wait. Wait till I breathed in the very first flow of UK air. Wait till I saw the very first British person, who was an airport ground staff. Wait till I heard the very first English word uttered by a native in their homeland. Those were all the very first moments of my new life, the moments that struck me as both real and unreal, or even ethereal. 


On my taxi ride from Manchester to Colwyn Bay, the town in North Wales where I would be staying, the effect from 15 hours of flying long-haul for the first time of my life couldn't stop me savouring the scenery, or anything that came into view. I was assigned, by my college, to stay with a host family, which consisted of an old lady, 73 at the time and an old female dog, 12 at the time. With hindsight, perhaps I should have seen that as a sign.


The house seemed cosy and comfortable. I couldn't help noticing how all the furniture and interior seemed to be so...close-knitted. In Vietnam, as it is a hot country, spacing is very important as it alleviates the feeling of being crammed into a boiling pot! My very first dialogue with the host mother made me worry about my English skills a little bit, but it was actually because she couldn't hear me if I talked too softly. 

My room - independence starts here

To me, culture shock didn't happen as fast as expected. Probably I was too excited about learning new things and discovering the lifestyle to make comparisons. Many of my Vietnamese friends couldn't eat British food, or even hated it. But somehow, I enjoyed the experience purely based on novelty, even though it was only frozen food, microwaved and served with cooked vegetables. As far as my memory is concerned, my very first meal was minced beef with rice, potatoes, peas and carrots. Exotic! I thought to myself. Finally I got to know how it felt like to eat food all served in a plate, rather than in a bowl for rice and multiple plates for different components such as meat and vegetables. It was just a convenient thing to have everything in one place. And I got to use a knife and a fork instead of chopsticks too.


The excitement was preserved for my first appearance at the college too. Llandrillo College, or Coleg Llandrillo, as in Welsh, was the largest in North Wales. I could jump up whenever I saw something new, albeit I kept that wild attitude inside my mind. Classes were small, with just about 15 students, unlike 45 in my high school class back then! The college was surrounded with such a beautiful landscape that I could paint a mental picture of the white being the building, amid the blue colour for the sea, the green for grass field and the greenish brown for mountains. Staff were friendly and welcoming. Seagulls seemed to be too as they walked around the campus peacefully. Perfect, I couldn't have asked for more. 

The view opposite my college when it snowed

But would the wonder wear off? Were everything as I thought they were?