Modes of Reading (basically literary criticism, with quite brilliant texts discussed (The Magic Toyshop, The Buddha of Suburbia, Howl etc)
Modes of Writing (very exciting and challenging creative writing assignments every week)
Medieval to Renaissance English Literature (the same thing that we studied in 10th grade British Literature classes in my school, but more in-depth. Loved it then, really enjoy it now as well)
Spanish Beginners Accelerated (we were allowed to choose a language for our optional module and I’m really chuffed I did)
On Saturday we went to Coventry (the closest town). The first stop was Primark and even though I hadn’t been planning to go shopping, I simply couldn’t resist. It was my first time in Primark and, wow, I can’t believe I managed to live so long without it. Spent only 35 minutes and £32 in there. And got all that:
Firstly, a plain T-shirt and vest (£1.50 each!)
But also
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In classic British fashion, the class system constantly crops up in conversation. Namely posh people. How because of their sheltered upbringing they can’t deal with negative emotions or how because posh people only marry people who are of the same social class, they’re all slightly inbred.
There are a couple of kind of posh people in our accommodation, but as ours is the cheapest, they’re the exceptions. And they're very nice, if I may add.
It got me thinking of myself. We don’t have a class system in Estonia and not even a term for ‘posh’. But if you tried hard to find the equivalent, then considering the school I went to, I’m about as posh as you can get. Funny, that.
When I first saw the kitchen that I was meant to share with eight other people, I thought, shit, it’s going to be crowded. And now we have 17 people using it. Some people were supposed to use the big one in the other corridor, but chose not to because ours is obviously so much better (or closer). Plus, one girl from upstairs is using ours, because she’s dating / not dating (she even has a boyfriend), just spending every minute together with one guy from our corridor.
We’re all also sharing three toilet cubicles (of which one is blocked and one’s lock is broken) and two showers (one lock is also broken there). But so far, I’ve never had to stand in queue for anything, so there’s no reason to complain.
They fixed our microwave, but there’s something wrong with the sink. And now our fridge is most likely broken too. It’s making a really loud noise. Even with the door closed. I’m grateful my room isn’t close to the kitchen, because it’s literally keeping people up at night. A likely reason is that it’s overstocked. You can barely fit any food in, and trying to find your stuff in it is always a bit of an adventure. Things will surely change in a few months when most people’s student loans run out.
While the story that Cryfield buildings were modelled after a Swedish women’s prison (and that the corridors are the width of a riot shield) may well be urban myths, the origin of the name is no word of a lie. Ages ago the area was used for public hangings and the name Cryfield comes from the place where the families of the executed criminals came to cry. Now isn’t that just lovely.
But I’m actually glad I’m living in these conditions. It’s teaching me to appreciate luxury when I have it and focus on what really matters in life. And I’m not even whinging; honestly, it’s not bad at all. This is what student life is like! We just laugh about those things.
At the end of the day, the people are lovely and that makes every day a good one.
