Student Bloggers

It took me twelve hours to get to Edinburgh. Going through customs and seeing the
person Arcadia sent for me was a wave of relief. I had traveled through the night skies to a place
that I had no way of fully navigating myself. I knew that Arcadia had set us with a hotel, but
there was always the wee voice in the back of my head vomiting anxieties throughout the
customs line. When I met with my person there were three other people with Arcadia: one in my
St. Andrews program and two with the University of Edinburgh Napier. Arcadia had given us a
wee bit of cash for taxies and for anything that we might need.

As we got to our lodging, as we had earlier been warned, we were not able to check in.
Yet, the hotel people were already aware of our arrivals and had a wee place open for us to put
our bags while we waited.

It was 1100, so we had a few hours to kill before 1430 check in. My small taxi group,
with two extra people that had arrived after we did, wanted to go to a café to get something to
eat. We had all, on average, been awake for over 24 hours, and need something to keep us going.
To avoid jet lag, we had all been advised to stay awake until it was time to go to bed in the UK.
With a myriad of conversations on our belt, someone had suggested we go up to the
Royal Mile, we could see all the shops and get something if there was anything that anyone need.
It was a longer walk, but it was good to start more conversations with those around me. We had
all come from different parts of the United States, all from different colleges and Unis, yet there
was something that brought us all together. There was something, that without, we would never
have met each other. These people were all so interesting, so intelligent, and so intuitive. As we
wondered, we found more people that were in our Arcadia programs and split into further wee
groups. One girl, she had all our numbers, went up to see Edinburgh castle, a larger group went
back to the hotel to see if the rooms were ready and to relax for a wee bit. I, and my new friend
who I will call E, went to travel around a wee bit more. We found a small market selling different
artistic items, a Warhammer shop, and, as we were walking back, an art shop with a renaissance
style celling selling local and popular art items. As an artist, I found myself infatuated with their
handmade cavasses, their ink pen collections, and some smaller items that were popular in
America. E saw multiple pubs that he wanted to check out later that night, and we, both, got
more familiar with the crossing techniques in Scotland. Usually, in America, we look left then
right, but in the UK, we need to look right than left.

E and I found our way back to the hotel right around the time to check in. While E’s room
was ready, mine was not.

As I sat in the lobby chair, 27 hours awake, my tired mind started to wonder to unsavory
places. I started to fall into dark pits of anxiety and worry. The world, so shiny and new, started
to decay before my eyes. The people, who, were so interesting and kind, started to become
further and further away from my mental grasp. My anxiety turned into a monster, hell-bent on destroying my sanity and stability. I tried to dodge the monster’s strikes, its claws sharp and
venomous. I worried about the people in my group thinking things about me. Were they talking
badly about me? Oozed secreted from its claws, decaying what small shield I had. Were they
thinking I talked to much? My sword started to break down, leaving no marks upon the beast.
Were they secretly hating me? A powerful strike, knocking me down. What about the people in
my group, will they ever think a friend of me? A second strike, tearing my abdomen. I sat beside
the vending machines to gain my focus. The monster stood in front of me, battered and tired,
ready to accept defeat and fall into the black hole of anxiety. I was in a new place, awake for 28
hours, just wanting to be back with my family. Back with people that I didn’t have to worry
about liking me. Back with my cats, cuddling in my bed. Back with my friends at my home
school.

The elevator doors opened. The “ding” awoke me from my hypnosis. The monster
paused. People from Arcadia were coming down. They were there, not sitting away or avoiding
me, they were talking to me. They wanted to talk with me; they wanted to hear about experiences
and my thoughts. The monster started to slowly fade away. More people started coming down, as
orientation was about to start, all with smiles on their faces. The monster, who, was once so
powerful before, was weak and powerless. These people didn’t hate me. They were all just tired,
and I was too. My anxiety monster struck in a weak time, but luckily Arcadia was there for me.

After orientation, about a 20-minute walk to the Edinburgh office, we went out to pizza
together. It was a wonderful time. Afterword, the St. Andrews people all went out to find a pub.
We were all legal, so why not. The men in our group had not stopped for one of us, so they were
separated from the female St. Andrews group. We had found a wee pub in an alley with nice
outside seating and some cider to drink. I saw their Scotch collection behind them, scotch is a
favorite of my brothers and father, so I thought it right to get a dram of Kilchoman 12-year
Scotch for the occasion. As I sat there, surrounded by people that, 12 hours before, were total
strangers. We all were laughing and having a good time.

Scotch, especially peated ones, goes down hard and smokey. The initial taste burns your
mouth, making you uncomfortable. Yet, the ending is so sweet and flavorful. The waves of
arrival, of meeting new people, of scotch, can burn, they can cause you to sit there, not wanting a
second sip, yet, there is always something that brings you back. I was not prepared for my
anxiety; I was not prepared to meet so many people. I was scared, battered, and ready to sink
deep into defeat, but the people, the experiences, they all pull you back for a second sip.