As I walked out of Marylebone Hall, I hold my breath through the cloud of hazy smoke that is always hovering over the steps of reception--though not allowed to smoke inside the Marylebone campus, students congregate around the door puffing second hand smoke into my lungs. But it soon passes, as I continue down Marylebone Road--the main thoroughfare of a pretty thriving business district. Being passed up by 40-year-old businessmen in suits and briefcases in tow is now typical--apparently I don't walk fast enough. As I cross the street to walk down curved Park Crescent's sidewalk that circum-navigates Regent Park, I see children, some walking in groups, others holding a parent's hand, all dressed in neat and prestine green uniforms. Ties knotted haphazardly around the little boys' necks; tights all ascew and bunched at the ankles of the girls. Dora the Explorer and Bob the Builder stand out as beakons of Americana across their backpacks. Turning onto Portland street, I dodge traffic as I try to make my way across the road. Even though the pavement tells me "look left" or "look right" at intersections, I somehow always forget and just run. Soon Portland veers left into Regent Street. Passing by some construction (I never can seem to get away from those pesky orange construction barrels...) I duck into a Starbucks for some tea. A bit of familiarity before my very first class felt nice. I finally reached the Regent Campus building, a very fancy and old structure, complete with revolving doors and marbled staircase. My class is on the "upper third" floor, meaning I take the lift to the third floor and then climb stairs. Once I found my classroom, I grasped the low-hanging doorknob and swung through the door. Taking a seat in the middle of the classroom, I introduced myself to those who were already there. A few moments later, my professor walks in--a short, balding man of no more than 40 wearing very nice black shoes (guys here were REALLY nice shoes...America should take some tips. haha). "Welcome to Modernism," he said. "I'm not going to tell you what modernism is, this class isn't about that because quite frankly, there is no definition. Instead, we are going to experience modernism and through that experience, come to know modernism. It'll be a difficult class, so speak up and make yourself heard. I know you all have opinions, so you might as well share them. Now, let's get started." Yup, I'm going to like it here.
After this pretty wonderful start to my morning, I discovered my new favorite lunch food that I WILL eat every Monday now--mozzerella, tomato, and pesto panini--basically heaven on earth. I ate on the steps of a gorgeous church, feeling a bit like the "feed the birds" lady from Mary Poppins--not in the "I'm poor donate money to me" way, but in the "I'm enjoying this spot in this place in time" sort of way. Then I headed over to my American Dreams Lit. class in a different building down the road a bit further. We are to read a book a week, but three of them I've already read and the rest of the list I've heard of but never had the chance to read. So I'm excited for those discussions. It'll be interesting to see the British perspective of our literature.
In both my classes, I found a few people to sit and talk with, which is always nice. I always hated when everyone is dead silent in a new classroom for a new class on the first day of lessons.
After my two classes were over (each were 2 hours long), I came back to my flat where I was met by Reena, one of my flatmates. I spent the rest of my day with her, running some errands and talking. It was a nice relaxing afternoon.
Tomorrow I have back-to-back Critical Theory...my seminar (small class size) in the morning and its corresponding lecture (just that, a huge lecture hall) in the afternoon. Though this only occurs every other week, I am not sure if I'll like listening about the same topic for 4 hours all in a row. But we'll see how it goes.
Day one of classes--I'd say an overall success.
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