Ghosts in the City

I’m here but also sorta…not.

Edinburgh is finally shifting into summer. The number of ‘Lovely Sunny Days’ is starting to outweigh the number of ‘Horrid Wet & Miserable Days’: as all Scottish residents know, Summer is defined by the median weather. I’ve got to lounge on the grass in the Meadows with a White Magnum icecream, snaffling free wifi from the nearby Starbucks. Even when I wake up at 5am to get into work there is a warm light in the sky.

Most of my financial woes have eased up. I’m out of the tight situation described in ‘Austerity Measures‘ and have secured another job: this time in Hospitality. My income isn’t exactly lucrative…but it’s steady and in the green.

…Yet…I’m not quite satisfied.

In early August I am going to board that transatlantic plane and commit the next 5+ years of my life to a single country. After those 5 years I could end up anywhere, but given the lack of a chemical industry in the Scottish capital it is reasonable to assume that I won’t be returning here.

The result is that my most pressing urge is to stick my head down and keep it down until I begin my PhD. I spent most of my time in the central university area doing my freelance writing and relaxing in coffee shops…but at the same time I recognise that I’m no longer a student and no longer really empathise with students. The social groups I had when I was an undergraduate have shifted dramatically or dispersed altogether, such that it would be easier for me to begin again as a stranger than try to resume connections. I’m not really sure what to do with myself in my “leisure” time – in part because I don’t have much money, but mainly because I feel uncomfortable resuming old habits.

I’m not really sure what the best solution to this sensation of being a ghost in Edinburgh. My instinct is to just keep on pushing through until I reach August when the problem will resolve itself. However, I’m not sure that’s healthy for me: going for 3 months with barely any social interactions is going to wreck havoc when I come back into contact with people.

One approach I’ve tried is to go around exploring new parts of Edinburgh while I have the opportunity to do so. Even in the central university area there are places like the Surgeon’s Hall Museum and Mother India Cafe that I’ve not stepped foot inside until the month (which I now realise is utterly shameful: I’d recommend them both). I’ve also incorporated alternative coffeeshops into my regular haunts: Artisan Roast is on my bike route into town and serves espressos that can blow a man’s head off, Brew Lab is a bit hipster, but their coffees have very interesting flavours and their red plush chairs are fantastic if you can grab ‘em.

If I am able to drink coffee then I don’t think I qualify completely as a ghost…

Rebirth of the St Andrews Lynx

“Before” – taken on an uncomfortably windy beach last month.

 

Um, so I took a pair of scissors to my dreadlocks…

PLEASE DON’T PANIC, I DIDN’T GET RID OF MY DREADLOCKS COMPLETELY.

Sorry, I did not mean to scare you.

I’ve always loved having long hair, but it rarely got down to my shoulders for most of my pre-university life. When I had my dreadlocks first put in 5+ years ago they were spiky little things I could hardly tuck behind my ear. Gradually though they grew (into the ‘locked’ form, I must add – I’ve never had to tighten them). Yes: dreadlocks grow. Man, growing is all those buggers do (aside from eating my earrings)!

They hit my shoulder. By 2012 they were getting to waist-length. And honestly, I liked having them as long as they possibly could go.

The trouble is…in the summer it felt like I was overheating because of the mass of insulation I had on my head. In the winter I could use ‘em as a scarf and keep toasty, but in hot weather they were uncomfortable.

Down in London at Imperial College I was pottering about the organic synthesis labs doing chemistry, and I started to get worried about my long hair. If I leant into the fumehood I saw there was a high risk of a rogue dreadlock falling into a solvent flask/chemical spill/hot oil bath. During my daily research work I use toxic, highly flammable and reactive chemicals in a fumehood.     Tied back and tucked into my labcoat, the dreads were still a potential fire hazard.

Then of course along come the problems with people’s perception of me. Sure, I can just say “F*ck ‘em if they don’t like my hairstyle”, but I’m choosing a professional career path for myself. If I was going to work in a hippie coffee shop I could probably get away with butt-length hair…pharmaceutical R&D employees don’t tend to make bold statements with their hair.

For a number of years I’ve been thinking vaguely that my dreadlocks were due a cut-back, but I never went through with it. The thing is – the dreadlocks felt as much a living part of me as my fingers. They were whole, they were more than just a facet of my image, they became linked to my identity. Cutting them would be akin to amputation.

And yet along came a catalyst.

On the night of the 30th April every year Edinburgh hosts a massive celebration of Beltane; marking the Celtic calendar’s transition from Winter to Summer. I have a handful of contacts on Facebook who have been involved in the Fire Festival, and who have posted some amazing pictures for me to see. Despite that, this year was the first time I actually went along to the event (part of my general program to immerse myself in Edinburgh while I still have the chance).

If you like any of the following things then you will like Beltane: fire, naked people, pagan/Mother Earth-type celebrations, liberal application of colourful body paint, fire, dreadlocks. (See some of the official pictures here) There were evangelical Christians handing out flyers and praying in circles on Carlton Hill, describing the Fire Festival as “Pagan darkness”. Personally, I think celebrating the coming of summer and respecting nature is a wholly good, positive thing.

But anyway, one of the central theme of the Beltane celebrations is one of rebirth and rejuvenation. The central male character who represents nature dies and is symbolically reborn, groups of performers are “awoken” during the procession by the figure of spring called The May Queen.

With the transition from winter to summer it could hardly be a better time to implement a rejuvenation within myself.

Additionally, I’m approaching a big life transition: starting my PhD in the USA. Change, new beginnings, growth, development, new directions…

On the 1st May I bought a small pair of scissors and cut my dreads back to shoulder level.

Well, my head certainly felt lighter.

That’s all the hair that came off, folks.

Liberated from the hairy shackles of my previous incarnation, I now feel ready to tackle Summer and the next stage of my life.

After – just to reassure you that the dreadlocks *are* still attached to my head,

DoE Story

If it started out as anything, it was as a gesture of politeness.

2010. Catskills, Upstate New York, USA. [NOT taken on any DoE expedition (conditions aren't that extreme in the Highlands). Just another example of how the spirit of DoE stuck with me long after I wound up Gold.]

 I was sitting in the front seat of a crowded, fusty minibus – zipping down the dual carriageway from the most Eastern tip of the Highlands back to pastoral Fife. The Duke of Edinburgh’s Award Scheme 2006 participants of Madras College had all successfully completed their Gold level Expedition. The 4-day hiking and camping trek through the remotest trails of Scotland was just one of the 5 sections Gold participants had to complete, but it was also the hardest. When we finished our Gold DoE Expedition it was also the culmination of approximately 4 years’ worth of Duke of Edinburgh training (Bronze level started in 3^rd year at school and typically took 12 months to complete, Silver and Gold ran in the consecutive years).  After Gold the participants were finished. No more award levels. No more expeditions.

For me the journey had been an exhilarating one. The ‘Service’ ‘Skills’ and ‘Physical’ Sections of DoE didn’t require making many alterations to my life – I just used the activities I was already doing for the most part – but the ‘Expedition’ section was something else. The Expeditions; their training, weekly planning meetings and qualifying expeditions were a challenge. Not on the physical stamina side for I was fit and had familiarity with hillwalking – but in doing all this in a group with 5 of my peers. I was an introvert and a loner through most of secondary school – interacting with girls my own age was mystifying and frustrating. To do so in the context of a group stuck together in the middle of nowhere was oftentimes taxing on my social skills.

Yet by Gold I was finally getting the hang of it. I loved everything about the Expeditions – for in the majority of cases I got on OK with the others. The preparation. Getting changed in the toilets on Friday at 3.35pm from school uniform into boots and hiking gear. Being in the gorgeous Highlands and reaching harmony with nature. Returning to school with a windburned face, bruised shoulders from my backpack and a dreamy happiness…it was all amazing.

Still, here I was on this fusty minibus – damp woollen socks and days-old sweat – resting my blistered feet and having my emotions hover somewhere between elevation and sadness. I’d survived the toughest expedition…but had reached the end of the line in my DoE journey.

Being (as I have already alluded to above) a bit of a loner, it was me in the front row seat with the member of staff driving the bus home.  Her name was Jean – an eccentric, outspoken woman who intimidated the Hell out of most of her pupils, but who I was coming to respect a lot. At this point on the long ride home I said something that I thought was mainly a polite thing to say, given the circumstances.

“If you need any assistance with future DoE Expeditions…well, I’d be happy to help out.”

Jean in fact told me to convey that directly to the teacher who organised the Madras DoE Group. I was mildly surprised to have my gesture accepted so readily…but took Jean at her word and did relay the message a little while later.

***

It has now been 7 whole years since that minibus conversation. Damn, really?!

I’ve finished secondary school.

I’ve finished university.

I’ve lived and worked abroad in two new countries for a total of 2 years.

…And I’m still helping out with Madras College’s DoE Expeditions.

2008. Glencoe, Scottish Highlands. [Learning some mountaineering skills]

 The reason I was taken up so readily on my offer was that the DoE Group are always in need of female staff out of the hills. Male teachers with a Mountain Leader qualification aren’t hard to come by; there are fewer qualified female staff…but usually equal numbers of girls:boys at all Expedition levels. Health & Safety stipulate that a female supervisor must camp within range of a girls group. Jean sadly died a couple of years after my Gold journey ended, another female member of DoE staff lost her outdoorsy partner and found it too hard to continue helping on the DoE without him.

It also helped that I was an experienced, strong hillwalker who could be trusted as a leader-figure out in the wilderness. And of course that I really enjoyed the DoE experience.

As I’ve become older I find it more and more rewarding watching as the DoE pupils grow during the years they take part in the Award. Ages 14-16/17 years covers an awful lot of maturation: the baby-faced Silver boys who came up to my shoulder are now strapping Gold lads with stubble. Yet they still have an innocence and energy that will shift dramatically as soon as they hit university – I know that from experience. The hyperactive girls who did DoE Bronze to score points on their CV are replaced by calmer, more grounded ladies at Gold.

While there are always a portion of DoE participants who come along from outdoorsy families and have been camping in the Highlands ever since they were 5…most of them are like me: someone who loves being active outdoors, but who doesn’t go camping or walking regularly, and rarely with their family. My hope is that these pupils will go on to become more outdoorsy later in life thanks to their DoE experience. I hope that by assisting with the DoE I set a positive role model for pupils taking part. For me leadership is about hiking 5km over swamp land in the driving rain to cheerfully greet the group at a checkpoint, raising their spirits for the rest of the trek.

***

2010. Maine, USA. [Continuing the taste for international adventure...]

 Before I leave the UK for the States I plan to complete my Summer Mountain Leader UK award. The Award will certify my abilities to navigate, lead, respond to emergencies and handle groups on difficult terrain. I completed my initial training back in 2008 before entering my “Consolidation” period to acquire more experience. Of course, my life underwent a lot of unexpected changes following on from that year – summer became a time when I was moving countries, not exploring the Highlands. For about 3 years my New Year’s Resolutions have included ‘Get my ML Award’. I’ve finally acquired the momentum to achieve that and have booked my Assessment course.

I don’t intend to give up the DoE just because I’m in another country (besides, the DoE Award Scheme is available in the States) – my summer holidays in the UK will be timed to coincide with Madras’ expedition dates. As far as I’m concerned, I still owe them.

Austerity Measures

Edinburgh’s “Grand Canyon”

The following blog post is likely to devolve into a list of ‘First World Problems’…for which of course I apologise profusely. Still, it has been an interesting couple of weeks that I want to talk about…

Back in February I had to make a snap decision. Did I want to accept a part-time job offer that would give me (a) the opportunity to relocate back to Edinburgh (b) my financial & domestic independence back (since I’d been living with my parents whilst job-seeking) (c) an end to the damn JSA malarky as chronicled in ‘Adventures in Unemployment’? Despite the fact that (d) the job advertised itself as averaging 15 hours per week on the minimum wage, which would cover little more than my rent (e) I had no defined plan for increasing my income? The abstract notions of ‘independence’ & ‘Edinburgh’ won out over practicalities very quickly.

Luckily I managed to fix myself up with freelance work pretty quickly after I resumed life in the Scottish capital. On paper [Income > Expenditure]. I sussed out pretty quickly that I wasn’t going to be making huge profits during the following months…but to me that didn’t matter.

Then a made a series of what I can only describe as bad lifestyle choices.

***

I’m not the sort of person who takes pleasure in cooking. I like buying lunches from cafes and sitting in coffeeshops drinking double-espressos.  I don’t have many expenses since I don’t take much pleasure in shopping, either.

If you’re working a part-time minimum wage job, it shouldn’t come as a revelation to you that sit-in double espressos and Large Mochas, Mosque Kitchen curries and panninis with salads take a large chunk out of your earnings.

On the other hand I am planning big for someone renting a single room on a run-down council estate. Not only do I have to relocate myself to the USA over the summer (visa fee, plane tickets, trip to US Embassy in London, etc) but I’m planning to qualify as a Summer Mountain Leader UK in July. That task has been on my New Years Resolutions list  for multiple years…yet I didn’t seem to have the momentum to go ahead and book the assessment course. Well, if I dont’ do it this summer when I have a free month it is unlikely to ever occur. Mountain Leader UK Assessment course requires a couple of hundred pounds.

Finance-wise, although my [Income > Expenditure] on paper, in reality I’m employed on a zero-hour contract (so nobody is obliged to give me any hours of work per week if there’s a labour surplus) with a freelance position tied to employer demand. The freelance work is invoice-only – when I submit the invoice there is going to be a delay processing it, with an uncertainty margin of several working days. Even the standard employment isn’t as regular as I would like: nearly £100 of my work was accidentally missed off last month’s payslip, then because  of the Bank Holidays around Easter there was a delay to the otherwise ASAP-repayment. So…not only are my hours variable, but so is the date I get paid for them.

Given the circumstances, I went ahead and made two rather bad decisions. I renewed my membership to a  professional organisation without realising that the membership renewal wasn’t due for a couple of months anyway. I paid the deposit for the ML Assessment hastily because I feared the course would soon book up (hindsight & evidence suggests I could have waited a few more weeks and still been alright). In neither circumstances did I think about (i) how much spare money this would leave in my bank account (ii) when the next payment would top-up said account, given the margins of delay highlighted above.

The consequences? Well, in the March – April period I have accumulated over 2 weeks’ worth of living with >£10 available in my bank account waiting for the next payent to come in (…and the payment being delayed). Luckily I’d paid my rent and got enough food at home – but I lost my freedom of choice. If I wanted lunch I couldn’t eat out. I couldn’t pass a couple of hours pleasantly in a coffeeshop. I couldn’t buy a newspaper if I was bored. Surviving on £5 “disposable income” for the whole week was fine, but I needed to buy a £14 train fare in 5 days’ time. Waiting for the money was deeply stressful.

***

It was probably a lesson I needed to learn: think before you spend.

I dug out my thermos flask and took instant coffee to drink after work, instead of running to the coffeeshop for a £3 beverage.

I signed up for a load of Psychology/Lingustics/Informatics research experiments. Run by undergrads, PhD students and researchers at the University, these offer £3-10 for 30min- 1hr for subject participation. Given that most of my income seems to be spent in those £5 or £10 lumps, it seemed a good way to get disposable cash flowing.

I wrote out a series of clearer monthly budgets, identifying not only my likely [Income vs. Expenditure], but factoring in the dates when the money would come in and when I’m going to make large payments.  Then budgetting strictly and accordingly.

***

So yeah, I’ve had a month or so filled with non-adventure and self-induced worry…but I hope I’ve learned from it. Looking forward to when my PhD starts and I get a regular fortnightly payment for graduate student earnings….

What Domesticity Means For Me

After my earlier musings about the significance of settling in one place for 5 years (“Spent my life running round“) it makes sense to look at what ‘being settled’ would mean to me. 

Most of the major activities would remain constant – it doesn’t count as My Life if I am not doing the things like cycling, running, dancing, loitering in cafes for hours on end – the thing that changes is the base I launch them from. For the longest time my life has consisted of living out of a suitcase in rented rooms and apartments. Since I know that at a fixed date in the next 3-12 months I am going to be packing my belongings up again and transporting them manually to the next location (most often via aeroplanes or trains), I live light. I do not buy new clothes reguarly, I do not buy many possessions or decorations in fact. Spares and extras aren’t there – the point at which I run out of something is when I buy another.

The rented rooms or flats I occupy are usually decorated with renters in mind. The rooms are painted white or beige. The furniture is basic Ikea standard. They are neutral, bland environments that I do not do a lot to disguise.

What I want more than anything else is to be in the same flat for more than 12 months. That isn’t going to happen immediately when I’m in the USA, sadly. The typical American rented apartment comes completely unfurnished – given all the other expenses that will hit me when I move country I don’t think an entire new collection of furniture is something I can afford to pay straight off. Then of course I am moving to an unfamiliar town: I don’t know who the dodgy letting agencies are, I don’t know the best/worst places to live, I don’t know how easy it is to find accommodation in this area. So I will first be moving into on-campus graduate housing for the first 12 months – it’s cheap and convenient and I know what I’m letting myself in for.

My feverent hope is that some of the following characteristics of domesticity will make their way into the apartments I inhabit:

• National Geographic subscriptions arriving by post.
• Random kitchen gadgets that I’d only use a few times a month. Things like a smoothie-maker, wok, sandwich grill and rice cooker (seriously, my life is too short and my culinary skills too limited to spend 40 minutes in the kitchen stirring a pot of boiling rice. The fucker always bubbles over, as well…).
• A digital radio set to BBC Radio’s World Service.
• Spare food supplies in my cupboards…all the time. I could also have a herb & spice collection filling up an entire cupboard.
• Photographs hung in actual frames on the wall, no more blu-tack and pins for this young adult.
• A library room with fitted shelves. Some of those shelve will – naturally – contain my National Geographic collection.
• Themed decorations in each room. “The Highland Room” “The Cities Room” “The Seashore Room” are the themes I want the most and have wanted for many years now.
• Being able to shop at the local farmer’s market and buy organic/fairtrade items, instead of “Supermarket Brand Value” objects like I usually do.
• Cats.
• No more beige walls. Is a splash of colour too much to ask for?
• A dedicated study space – complete with desk, office chair and shelves for my important paperwork.
• A coffee machine. Although I drink litres of the stuff, I would be the first to declare that instant coffee tastes awful. The smell of espresso dripping out of a steam-powered espresso machine is truly irresistable, which is why I like to hang out in coffeehouses. It would have to be an espresso machine if it was anything.

What does domesticity mean for you guys?

The Following Post Will Make You Smile (2nd in the Series)

Well, on Friday I went along to the unveiling of a giant balloon sculpture called Pisces. He is currently hanging around in the National Museum of Scotland as part of the Edinburgh International Science Festival. His creator is Jason Hackenwerth, who specialises in these gigantic balloon artworks.

The lurking sea monster…

I assume that there exist in this world some people who won’t smile at the thought of a gigantic balloon sculpture of a mythical aquatic creature…but if they do then I don’t wanna know about them.

The constellation unveiled.

The supersized critter was created by the artist and a squad of Science Festival volunteers/staff over the preceding week; working in the middle of the atrium where the piece was to be hung. I stopped by a few days ago: it was impressive watching the swift weaving of long balloons into the body of the sculpture – the “webby” bits were attached afterwards. Several of the workers on the frontline had earplugs in to protect themselves from the sporadic bangs of burst balloons – most of the puncturing action was deliberate. The creation process drew hordes of people, definitely equal to the number at the unveiling.

I love the amount of nerdy enjoyment I get out of stuff like this.

PhD Bucket List

Assuming that I have portions of free time outside of my graduate studies (which I intend to secure as a high priority), there is a lot of the USA that I want to take on during my allocated 5 years on the F1 visa. I have always believed that it is wrong to go to a new country…and then not explore it. Assuming I get a couple of weeks holiday per year and have some time to myself in the evenings and weekends, I think I know what I want to do with myself…

Bright as the sun on that California Coast…
(via MotoMucci.com)

 Summer Trip down the coast of California. I’ve already ticked off the Northern West Coast Vancouver to Portland, the next stage is two to three weeks of holiday where I start from the Redwood Pines and travel down through San Fransisco, LA and San Diego – diverting left to visit Yosemite/Sierra Nevada National Parks. Whilst listening to “Hollywood Nights” by Bob Seger on endless repeat.

Get a driver’s license. In America I think I actually could benefit from having one. Not that I intend to ditch my bike for journeys under 15 miles – that remains unthinkable. Yet as I get nearer to a professional career I start to cut off my options if I’m unable to drive. Particularly in the States where I might have to commute to places where public transport gets a little sketchy.

Explore the Wild West. Take a trip around the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Zion Valley areas. I’ve seen that Trek America offers camping/adventure holidays for young people, so if a solo trip proves too hard to arrange it can still be done.

Return to Ballroom Dancing & DanceSport. What DanceSport gives me is a sense of confidence in my presentation and in myself. The lessons it teaches about posture, poise and expression are ones that I’ve applied in the past to life as a student and life as an employed professional. DanceSport also forces me to practice yoga/pilates, to take care of my flexibility and core strength. Lessons I need to be reminded of when the slog of grad school goes on around me.

(From Envela Castelova via 500px.com)

 Visit New Orleans during Mardi Gras. I said I was going to do this while I was working in Philadelphia…and never did. Luckily, that shortcoming can be addressed. I have since learned that New Orleans is something of  a party town whenever you visit, so going there outside of “term-time” won’t mean I’m missing out.

Obtain membership to a cool museum. Visit and pay homage to that museum regularly. I get to choose between one in NYC, Philadelphia or DC (I have already mentioned how much I like the Museum of the Native American…). I want to be more than the stereotypical science grad student who spends all their time in the lab during the course of their PhD and have no outside interests or opinions. I’ve always wanted to be cultured and have a working knowledge of “art” – grad school is probably not the best place to cultivate my artistic instints, but there’s no reason to completely neglect the easy ”culture points”.

Have a winter beach holiday in Miami. Then look fabulous for the whole time that I’m there.

Experience all major forms of American sports. That means attending a baseball game, tailgating American Football and taking a cheerleading taster session. I don’t think that I’m obligied to enjoy the games or understand the rules…saying I  just turned up is fine by me.

(via 500px.com)

 Go hiking in Glacier National Park. From all the pictures I’ve seen of the place it looks absolutely beautiful. It would be  a good place to backpack in – I’d want to get into the interior away from the day-trippers.

Host a (vegetarian) Thanksgiving celebration. Given that my culinary skills are rudimentary (more through lack of inclination than innate lack of ability), the whole-day-cooking marathon run-up to a Thanksgiving feast would challenge me on a number of levels. That’s no reason not to do it, though.

 

There are of course plenty of other plans and schemes I intend to cook up…but this makes a good start (Suggestions and personal recommendations are always welcomed!).

Spent My Life Running Round…

…And it’s so hard to change, can’t seem to settle down.

There is a certain skill set you develop when moving around a lot. You figure out how to explore an area quickly and dig into social groups with equal speed; knowing you have only a limited time to form friendships and that you have to start early. You become adept at sussing out potential activities online way before the Departure Date, your first few weeks of your new life will be sketched out comfortably in advance. The pressure of time is always there, you know how to work with that.

In the summer of 2009 I got a visa stuck in my passport which granted me permission to spend a fixed period of time in the USA. After 12 months I returned to Scotland. Once my final academic year ended I went to Switzerland for another full 12 months. After Switzerland I came back to the UK, dividing the allotted 12 months between Fife, London & Edinburgh. Once those ~12 months are up I’m moving back to the States.

Edinburgh-Philadelphia-Edinburgh-Basel-London/Edinburgh-New Jersey

In total, during the last 5 years I will have moved across international borders 5 times. At 12 month intervals.

***

 Some people cope with regular geographical upheaval by acknowledging they’re only there for a temporary period and adjusting their social circles/hobbies accordingly. I find that approach hard. In part because of the frequency I’ve moved: I would otherwise have had an awful 5 years of being completely transient. Also because I need to feel like I belong to a place if I want to be happy there. The process of making new friends and exploring is what helps me overcome homesickness and all the upheaval. I want to hold on to the friendships I’ve formed in the places I’ve lived.

Then this week it hit me like a mallet: I want to belong to all these places…but they simply move on without me when I’m not there. If I’m away from a country for 1 year the social circles alter, the gossip evolves, the shared history grows – I miss out on all of that. When I’ve returned to Edinburgh on each occasion I’ve been forced to reinvent my social circles because of the difficulties I have with catching up and re-integrating. It is upsetting to confront that reality, even though I come across it so often.

When I go back to the USA I won’t be able to pick up my “Philadelphia” life where I left off in September 2010, no matter how much I want to. Which makes me wonder if I’ve been (foolishly) wanting to return to something that no longer exists all of those intervening years.

***

It seems as if I want to settle down in some place for 5 years or longer, just for a bit of stability.

…But what if I can’t?

What if the first 12 months in the USA pass and I start to grow restless? What if stability drains all the colour from my life?

Perhaps the thrill and adventure of switching countries all the time is what I need to be happy. I have very little experience of stability in my independent adult life, perhaps I’ve grown up learning how to operate without it.

There is really only way for me to find out…

Across the Wide Ocean…

Some places just get under your skin. You can’t even explain why, but after experiencing them once – even for a brief moment – your life is never the same again.

Would you believe that it was exactly three years ago in April 2010 that I first decided that I wanted, really wanted, to pursue postgraduate study in the USA. Specifically on the East Coast, if at all possible.

At the time of writing this post it is March 2013. In the intervening years I returned to Edinburgh to finish my degree: the time spent in Philadelphia had inspired me to live life completely on my terms, so I dived headlong into dancing and new friendships. It gave me the best year of them all during my undergraduate degree. Then I headed to continental Europe to live for 12 months in Basel, Switzerland. When that finished I spent 3 months in London, a city that took me by surprise with its beauty and personality.

…And yet still, it was the East Coast of America that held my heart. Three years and all those cities later.

The PhD Application Limbo was a stressful one, especially since I had applied to universities in the USA & UK. I wasn’t just choosing between which university was “best”, I was choosing which continent I wanted to spent the next decade+ in. The American schools all got back to me with their decisions before the British ones. Choosing which of the State-side schools was my top choice out of the acceptances wasn’t too difficult…but still I had doubts. Doubts about whether the East Coast school I’d chosen would be better for me than the programs I’d applied to in the UK. And if it wasn’t…would the allure of the USA be enough to compensate for that? My mind switched back and forth over the course of a day. At this stage the British universities hadn’t get made their decisions, so it was all a load of hypothetical wriggling anyway.

What do you do when labouring under that level of uncertainty?

…How about going back to the source?

***

Downtown Philadelphia

I told my top choice school that I wanted to fly over and visit them for a second time. I gave myself a long weekend – they  booked me into a nice downtown hotel for the whole duration.

The doubts were there in my mind, but I formulated questions that would test just how well-founded these concerns actually were. I scoured official university webpages to find as much information as I could about what graduate life & study would entail at this place. I gave some thought to what I’d want to see from my potential future advisors & lab colleagues, and how I might be able to tease that out during the short visit.

Guess what? The formal visitation went really well. The doubts I had held were addressed and mitigated. I got to see the program’s individual strengths – strengths not necessarily available in the other programs I had applied to. There were a good chunk of faculty members whom I felt relaxed chatting to and with whom I thought I would work well, doing the kind of research I wanted to do. The graduate students I met were likeable, charming and did more with their lives than slave away in the lab (although lab slaving is involved in large quantities, but that’s par for the course anywhere). That night I wandered back to my hotel room grinning from ear to ear.

***

On the Saturday I took a smooth regional rail trip down to Philadelphia, catching up with friends and enjoying the warm sunny day. The weather didn’t matter though – I love this place even when it’s blizzarding or when the air is too humid to walk through. On the Benjamin Franklin Parkway the sun caught on all the world flags, making them glow as if from within.

My favourite part of Philadelphia…as I suspect you are already aware.

It was magical. But then again, it always is.

***

I think the real moment that I made my decision was when I received an email from my Top Choice British Professor at the university which had most-strongly contended with my American preferences. It was a friendly email, but he was writing to warn me that it didn’t look like he would have the funds to support me as a PhD student in his group and I should probably investigate alternatives. This came the week before my US visit.

Thing was, when I received his email…I wasn’t disappointed. I wasn’t upset.

I was relieved.

Relieved because I wouldn’t have an additional offer to complicate my decision-making process. Relieved because it had felt at times that I should strongly consider an offer from this university because of its reputation – not because I wanted to study there (although I would have been happy enough to).

When I knew it was relief I was feeling at a rejection from a British university…the American choice won out.

I’ve subsequently accepted their offer and declined the rest. On my desk at home sits F1 visa paperwork and a crucial To Do list for the next few months.

We’re moving forward. A Chemistry PhD at Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey is happening.

Queens Gate at Rutgers University (New Brunswick, NJ)

The Edinburgh Return: Slow Right Down

Holyrood Park, Edinburgh

If I hesitated for even a few days, I’d miss my chance. Sure I could wait for another offer of employment that might have better hours or be located closer to Fife…but my experience of the job market (ref. Adventures in Non-Employment) suggested that it could be several months before another one came along. If ever. I didn’t really enjoy being stuck in Fife – I was too far away from my friends, St Andrews was too isolated for my tastes. Big City Lights are more of my thing, I’ve learned.

Within a handful of short days everything happened. I formally accepted the job offer, two days later I started work and was frantically looking for permanent accommodation (within my price/location range) and a secondary source of cash whilst, in effect, having started my new Edinburgh life.  Hectic doesn’t really cover it.

Hence why the song ‘Slow It Down‘ by Amy MacDonald feels so appropriate.

It was the right call, though. I found an inexpensive room in a flat – it’s in a rough area of Edinburgh, but I decided it wasn’t so rough that I would be in danger there (y’know, keep all doors locked, don’t walk around at night, don’t bring anything too valuable over to Edinburgh, all the standard stuff for keeping safe should be fine). I had been looking into secondary sources of employment to ensure I wasn’t scraping by: there were interviews and sample writing pieces, it didn’t take too long to get offered a position as a freelance writer.

After that the chaos started to calm down. No longer half-in half-out, I formally moved from Fife to Edinburgh a week after the new job started. Things are going smoothly now, the running around has properly ceased.

Being back feels great.