Despite the silence, I’ve had some inspired ideas for blog posts during the last month. None of these have come to fruition because no matter how lovely the concept, I’m certain I wouldn’t have been able to coherently express it even if I’d tried.
That is because my brain is ‘noodle soup’, as my friend Paulina so eloquently expresses.
It is a jumbled mess of letters and squiggles and thoughts and words and faces and sounds and places and times and dates and most of it is in Arabic (well… in something vaguely resembling that wonderful, frustrating language).
I’m into week 4 of my studies *update since began this wretched thing: week 5*, the momentum of which has been dramatically increasing with every day of further study, so much so that I feel physically out of breath when I think about it (okay not really but creative license etc.).
Back in week 1, one of my professors spent the entire first hour of our time together explaining how ‘Arrrabic is not a subject, it is an arrrrt, a way of life’ Rs rolled for emphasis of courrrrse. The ‘way of life’ part is for sure, I go to sleep thinking about Arabic and wake up still thinking about it (I usually only stop thinking about it around the time my professors start to talk about it, which is terribly unfortunate and highly inconvenient).
And it’s also true that it is something of an art; what a beautiful language. Each word can be traced back to a root of 3 consonants, from which are derived a whole family of nouns, verbs, adverbs, particles, passives, yadayadayada.
I do love it. But man is it hard- there are so many flippin’ grammar rules. And to those rules are, naturally, numerous exceptions.
In fact, when I downloaded my Economics task sheet and saw that the first question was solving equations I nearly squealed in delight because it was such a welcome relief to conjugating.
On the extracurricular side of things I have found the plethora of potential activities so overwhelming. You would have thought that choice would be liberating, but turns out that I find too much of it crippling. Rather than just choosing a few things to do, I curl up into a ball and put my defensive spikes up in case anyone tries to invite me to yet another activity.
Don’t worry; I am getting involved in things other than study though. Routine has emerged right in time for reading week to go and mess it up again.
But, seriously: I am adoring being in London, and feel incredibly privileged to be studying in a city that I can learn so much in about the world. Where people are, there are ideas and cultures intermingled; creativity and entrepreneurship can blossom and thrive. Exciting!
I’m going to stop now and get on with posting this, else I’ll ramble on too long, get sidetracked, and forget about it again.