There’s an old couple drinking ridiculously small beers next to me. The air smells like a combination of detergent and free samples of perfume in duty free. I have a gin tonic in my hand. There’s an odd charm to airports.
We’re connecting through Munich. I prefer that much more than connecting through the Middle East, as flying directly to Munich only requires one connection. There’s something weird about sitting in an airport in a country you’ve never visited or been to before and seeing people you know walk by. Some say that your UWC experience doesn’t begin until after you finish your stay. I don’t know about that.
Honestly, these last couple of days have been quite sentimental. As I was walking back from Pelham’s annual Christmas dinner on his lawn a co-year of mine pointed out that next time we leave, we leave for good. That’s terrifying. As much as we love to criticise and take shots at these place, we’d all be fucking lost without it. In the conversations I’ve had in these past days I’ve been oddly defensive about UWC. Something new for a change. Everything we do now begins to be the last of something. That’s terrifying too. We’ll never have Christmas dinner again. We’ll never leave for break; we’ll leave for good. We’ll never have another ToK deadline again (That one I’m actually ok with). And hey, before we know it it’ll be grad and we’ll be crying of happiness, sadness and stress whilst we dance into the night. One last night.
I received a letter from a friend the other day. She stressed the importance of enjoying the good things about MUWCI rather than focusing on the bad. In a small remark, she pointed out how MUWCI seemed, in retrospect, to be more of a dream than a reality and now that she mentioned this I can’t stop thinking that. Tomorrow I’ll wake up back home and MUWCI will actually feel like a dream.
I’ve learned so much these past years and I’m so ready to learn more, but how will I find a community as loving, supporting and, most importantly, challenging as I’ve found at MUWCI. How will I find teachers who care, friends who push and an environment that allows me to never worry about real life. They talk about a MUWCI bubble and this metaphor seems oddly accurate now. Bubbles burst.
Now I’m heading back. One last time before fourth term? Am I ready? Fuck yeah. I’ve never been more ready in my life. Am I scared? Fuck yeah. I’ve never been more terrified in my life.
Here’s to fourth term.
Third term is history. Fourth term is mystery. Today is a gift, which is why it’s called the present.
– Sharada Vakil