A Pioneer in Brum

Thomas Countryside
Author: Thomas Heyd

The unknown is something to be regarded as an opportunity, not a threat.

It was, in true British fashion, raining when I arrived in Birmingham for the first time. After nearly twelve hours of travel, my plane at last touched down in the United Kingdom’s most central city. Arriving almost a week early for orientation, I had plans for some serious pre-semester adventures. Armed with a backpack of camping supplies, a bag of £1 pomegranates purchased from the market in St. Martin’s square, and entirely unsubstantiated optimism, I set off for a quaint hostel along the Welsh border. In the diaries of several travelers, both recent and vintage, lies the subtle warning: “British transport is built for the British.” Signage is often vague and unhelpful; the locals, even more so. Nevertheless, stalwart enthusiasm and a thorough knowledge of Google Maps allows the average traveler just enough confidence to face the unknown.

A south-westbound train carried me from central Birmingham to the quiet Welsh town of Chepstow. Home to the oldest surviving post-Roman castle (and frankly not much else), this quaint community on the banks of the river Wye was my first stepping stone toward an escape in the English countryside. My next hurdle was an encounter with the rural bus systems. Unfortunately, the driver was as unfamiliar with the route as myself and it took a couple tries to find exactly where I should hop off. An hour later, I was hiking up the backroads of Gloucestershire, on my way to a youth hostel nestled deep within the Forest of the Dean.

 Thomas Countryside

After several days of relaxation and reflection in the midst of St. Briavel (I shall not bore you with the details as I have with my adventures thus far), it was time to retrace my steps to Birmingham. Back in Chepstow, a hospitable Methodist church provided a hearty lunch while I waited for my train. Returning to Birmingham, I made my way to the University and began the moving-in process. The thousands of annual resident students has necessitated the University of Birmingham’s (UoB) streamlined accommodation process––one which has been perfected over time. Within an hour of arrival, I had received my bedding pack, student ID, and all the necessary information to make my first couple weeks as simple as possible.

 Thomas Countryside 2

Student housing at UoB is remarkable. With no less than thirty accommodation options, throughout four villages, spanning nearly three square kilometers, UoB provides housing for thousands of undergraduates. I found myself situated in what is known as the “Tennis Court” in the midst of the Vale Village. Located on the top floor of a three-story shoebox, my room was tucked into a quiet corner overlooking the community golf course. Sharing a kitchen and two bathrooms with three Germans and an Aussie, space was limited, but sufficient. Pitching in early, we all tried our best to make the place as homely as possible. I will be certain to write more about my accommodation in future posts, but for now I must move on.

 Birmingham Housing

As the first VIU student to study on exchange in Birmingham, there was much to learn. From navigating the “college” system (sort of like faculties, but with greater distinction), to locating an obscure building in the immense campus, the whole ordeal was daunting to say the least. However, as UoB cycles through tens of thousands of students every year, its orientation systems are well-established and efficient (occasionally redundant, but they mean well). Hours of orientation lectures and many ice-breakers later, I felt confident in my chances of surviving the semester.

As this brief excerpt reaches its conclusion, there is one central point that the reader should focus on. Simply put, the unknown is something to be regarded as an opportunity, not a threat. I am not arguing for reckless enthusiasm, but rather for courage. A semester abroad will not be easy. It will push you and stretch you, and force you to learn quickly and adapt faster. It will take you so far out of your comfort zone, you will forget what it was like to have one. It will take you away from close friends and family and force you to reconstruct your social network. But, it is worth the struggle. You will learn skills that would otherwise be inaccessible; you will make friends you never would have met; you will become more confident and assertive, and finally, you will learn more about yourself than you can possibly imagine.