Dear Hermes…
Dear Hermes,
I wanted to thank you for giving me the desire to discover how it was on the other side of the sea. This is the story of a little frog travelling to the country of Haggis – I have been told that it was a small animal. From a French-Polish family, I have always wanted to travel, both for personal and professional reasons. Being able to sing a Beatles’ songs while taking a shower was a challenge for me. I also must confess I am lazy and always wanted to be able to watch films in their original versions. Moreover, once I have graduated, I would like to work in international communication. Therefore, spending one year in Scotland is totally logical in my professional project.
I left my material life in France to improve my spiritual life in Great-Britain. “Ceilidh” and “blether” with “loons” and “quines” were waiting for me in Dundee. I did not know that I would discover what is the most important intelligence: the social intelligence. Call it melting pot or a salad bowl, foreign exchanges are a marvelous opportunity to meet people from a wide range of different backgrounds. Right now I speak English, breathe Scottish, eat Indian and dress Polish.
I spend my time between studying, working and networking. My degree is great and my job is a good experience. At Abertay Dundee, I prepare my B.A. with Honours in Media, Culture and Society. The University is the place where I study the texts of Michel Foucault or Pierre Bourdieu in their English translation. Working in the Hotel I polish the glasses, fold the napkins and poor some Chardonnay 2001 in the appropriate glass, but silently. I am a “voluntold”, not “told to talk”. “It is not democracy” but we do have time to improve our English when customers ask us if we have French mustard.
Sometimes, people tell me that they like France. One boy confessed to me that he was totally crazy about “my” country because of Jacques Brel. Failure, Jacques Brel is from Belgium. A girl told me that she likes France because of Edith Piaf. I didn’t want to tell her that Edith Piaf is dead. After these hard experiences, I do not tell any Scottish person that I like Scotland because of its kilts, red-haired people, or the film “Trainspotting”, Even though I do. At first, I was surprised and even scared by the use of the two taps in the bathroom. However now I am a professional and I even go the swimming pool once a week with my friends. This, for me is like a personal victory against tricky plumbing, and a sign of international friendship. This is Europe. I think I love Europe.
I have learned many of marvellous words: “flabbergasted”, “pulpy”, “squelch”, “tusk”, “sparkling”, “eejit”, “crumble”, “honky-tonk”, “snorkel”, “caboodle”, and so on. Repeating them sounds like a song and leads me to dance in the street when I go to the University. This is as good as playing with sing-star to improve my oral skills. “Lapsang souchong” is also a great word: I must confess that since I arrived, I am a hardcore tea-oholic. Sorry, I am not talking about C2H5OH.
I wanted to visit Glasgow and Edinburgh before visiting heaven. I have seen the light dress of Kim Tae Gon during the Radiance Festival, I have seen pigeons playing Frisbee in a park and I have seen a bird eating a chicken sandwich. I have done connections between the Glasgow Style and the Ecole de Nancy and between the paints of Godfried Schalken and the ones of George de la Tour. It is like being home. It was so great that I had to find some synonyms of “cool”: “dynamite”, “terrific”, “transcendent”, “tiptop”, “peachy” “groovy”, “hunky dory”, “keen” or “smashing”.
I love languages. I love the fact that in German “fast food” means “almost food”. I love spending Christmas Eve with my family and Christmas Adam with my friends. I love being able to cross the road as easily as if I was a native Scottish girl. My life was a Nouvelle Vague Film. Now my life is a musical and I can sing “Yellow Submarine” when I take a shower. This is even better than being in “L’Auberge espagnole”.
Britishly yours,
Alexandra, candide young girl