My day started with a taxi trip beginning at 4:30am. Which, of course, meant that I had to be packed and at the gate by 4:30am. Not as much fun as it might sound. I woke up at 3:45 (thank you, new alarm widget for my dashboard), tried to get as ready as possible, and dragged myself and my suitcase out to the taxi in 40 degree weather. This should be the point where you tell me, "But, Sydney, you do know it's significantly warmer in London than Belfast, don't you?" If I hadn't been going crazy about the whole trip in the first place, I probably would have thought of that. Instead, I packed warm layers.

The taxi leaves me at the bus centre exactly six minutes later. I always try to pad my time a bit, but it turned out that my lovely idea left me standing outside the bus centre for nearly 25 minutes. Why outside? Because my bus left before the bus centre opened. The bus did eventually come, and I traveled the 35 minutes to the airport. I had to pay for my checked bag (£16 each way) and go through security, which was oddly packed considering it was early morning.

I would like to take the opportunity now to address any of you who may run airports. It is extremely helpful to your nervous, frazzled travelers if the tickets you give include the gate at which their airplane will depart. I know these things often change, and I don't usually complain about running from one gate to another. I would like to have some indication as to which part of the airport I need to wait in for my flight. It appears that the Belfast International Airport decides on the fly at which gate the flights will be stationed. This fact meant that, once it was advertised which gate I needed, I had 11 minutes to run to the other end of the airport.

The flight was bumpy, the passengers were noisy, and I had a terrible pain in my upper right jaw as we descended. (Anyone who might know what this is, please tell me. It started as a little prick around one tooth, and grew until it felt like someone was chiseling off my teeth from front to back. It happened on the way back to Belfast as well, and I'd like to prevent it from ever happening again.) Landing in London was wonderful, as I've never wanted off of an airplane so badly. Of course, I stepped off the plane to find that my wool coat was already making me sweat. Lovely.

From the airport, I took a bus into London. I could have taken a train and cut the travel time down by nearly 2/3, but I would have paid three times more. The bus ride took almost two hours, and I think I might have actually dozed off for a few moments along the journey. From where the bus dropped me off, I took the tube to a station close to the hotel I had been booked into. I left by what seemed to be the wrong exit, and I was immediately lost. I had no map, no phone, and no idea where I was. After wandering for a bit, dragging my suitcase behind me, a taxi slowed down and asked if I was lost. I'm sure a lost tourist was a great opportunity for him, but it was also a way to make sure I got where I was going.

It turned out I was very near the hotel, and the taxi fare was only £3 to get there. I didn't have the fare in coins, and the only bill I had was a £20 note. He offered to let me out for free, but I felt bad and gave him what coins I had. He was very kind and, knowing that I was lost, could have taken me on a scenic route to get there. I wasn't able to check in that early at the hotel, but I was able to check my bag with the porter and use the free wifi in the lobby and lounge. When I could finally check in, I finished the last chapter of the book I was reading, took a short nap, and headed back downstairs.

Over the course of the next few hours, I met several of the Fulbrighters. (For future reference, when looking for Fulbrighters, go where there is free wifi. We will be there.) I had dinner with a few of them, but, more importantly, I had dinner conversation with a few of them. I was immediately impressed. Not only were they able to speak well on their own subjects (as I should hope), but they also spoke very intelligently about a variety of other topics. It must be said that a Fulbrighter that is a TMNT fan is definitely a friend of mine. The trip was looking up.

The orientation was off to a start the next morning, and we all got to know each other through an exercise called "autograph bingo". I was a little disappointed that my square read "Whose passion in life is Irish Literature?". I mean, it is true, but I was hoping for something more exciting, like "Who threw javelin?" or "Who has been on an expedition to Antarctica?". We also got to meet Michael and Elizabeth, who have been the saints guiding us here from the beginning. We had lectures, discussions, and a pub quiz in the evening. My team was called "The Winners", and the name came awfully close to the truth. We had to go to a double tie-breaker, and we lost. Valiant effort, nonetheless.

On Tuesday, we had an opportunities fair. Unfortunately, there didn't prove to be many opportunities for me without flying back and forth to England. No one I talked to offered anything in Northern Ireland. We also attended a panel, where we heard prominent speakers on economics, politics, social issues, etc. The topic of Northern Ireland was actually broached, and we were told that England just wants Northern Ireland to go away and leave them alone. This statement deeply troubled me, especially considering the period I am studying is the one that includes Northern Ireland's conception and inclusion in the UK. I'm not going to get into all the nitpicky details, but I think these comments were glib, at best. Later that day, we toured the RSA house and heard a lecture given by a Fulbright alumnus on Churchill and the "special relationship" between the US and UK. Though he didn't mention it, I feel like we Fulbrighters are part of that special relationship.

On Tuesday night, we decided to follow Kenneth to his favourite restaurant in London -- an Indian joint near Piccadilly Circus. There were 10 of us, including Michael's three children. We wound up in the wrong part of town (especially for the children in tow), and had to quickly backtrack to a makeshift wonderful Indian joint. Fortunately, the kids seemed less fazed by the surroundings than most of us, and we wound up having a great dinner anyway.

On Wednesday, we finally got to have some tourist fun. We started the morning with a cruise down the Thames. We got to, very briefly, go into the British Maritime Museum and see the Prime Meridian. My camera batteries decided that, since I was finally getting to take pictures of London, they would die. Here are the pictures that I managed to take. Our meetings were held in the Citibank building on the 37th floor. From there, we could see the entire city. I was supposed to meet up with my friend Dan, but our meetings ran long and I had to cancel. That night, we found an Italian restaurant for dinner. We were put in a group room in the basement with eight drunken nurses who had all won an award that day. They were fascinated by us, and we were definitely entertained by them. We hung out the rest of the night in Kenneth's room; I don't know that we could have actually fit another person into the room.

On Thursday, an optional day for orientation, some of us took a tour of the Globe Theatre and ate lunch at the cafe in the Tate Modern. I didn't have much time to spare, considering all the methods of transportation I had to use to get back to Belfast. I left as soon as we got back to the hotel.

I expected the Fulbright group to be bright and well-spoken. We're told that we have to be bright and well-spoken in order to get the grant. I did not necessarily anticipate the level of kindness, generosity, and all around awesomeness of the people I was to meet that week. By Thursday, I felt like I was surrounded by friends, and I honestly hope that I can continue to say that for years to come. We were told we were rockstars, tomorrow's leaders, and world-changers. Despite everything you hear about the youth (and the people that actively teach and shape them), I felt good thinking that my future may lie partially in their hands. And, a little scared at the sheer number of fart jokes I heard. Can't win them all.

After the initial confusion and running about, I told myself I would wait to post about arriving to Belfast until it felt like Belfast. By that, I mean, when the weather felt like Belfast weather. I arrived on 10 September, and it is now 30 September. It has just now rained. 20 days of unseasonably dry and rather warm weather; it has varied considerably between wool-coat-and-scarf weather and short-sleeved weather.

As I said, I arrived on the 10th, and everything has been rather crazy from then on out. My mother and Aunt Deb in tow, we checked into our hotel and set off to explore Belfast. Unfortunately, the hotel was nowhere near the QUB campus, so much of that exploring isn't worth anything for me now.

However, we did go see Giant's Causeway, the Carrick-a-rede rope bridge, Dunluce Castle, Carrickfergus Castle, the Bushmill's Distillery, the reservoir in the Mourne Mountains, and a bit of Dublin for the fun of it. I managed to get some good pictures of the fun.

I checked into my room at QUB on the 14th and actually moved into it on the 16th, when Mum and Deb left to go back to the States. It's small, and I don't really care for the people I've met who live in the hall. It'll do until December/January. At least I have my own bathroom.

I've also met my Fulbright mentor, who is absolutely fabulous. I have since learned that I was the only Fulbrighter who even knew we had mentors, let alone had spoken to and met mine. He took us out to dinner one night after a walk by the water. He also took us out to the Mourne Mountains, which is where some of those great pictures were taken.

I did the international orientation for QUB and officially enrolled in my program. Like I assumed, I am not taking any classes. I do have to participate in something called the Postgraduate Skills Training Programme, which has courses in honing skills such as networking, academic assertiveness, personal marketing, and even Powerpoint. There are also some interesting ones like "Doing it All: Academic Careers for Women (Being a Woman in a Male Environment)". We have to log 30 hours (10 of which have to be practical use) over the three year program. Not too bad at all.

I met two members of my cohort during international orientation. After returning from London (which gets its own entry, lest you think I've ignored my Fulbright orientation all together), we had a department meet and greet. I got to meet the rest of my cohort, as well as the staff/faculty, the MA cohort, and the research fellows.

My UK bank account is set up, and I have received all the information about it. However, I have come to the realization that there is no Citibank nor any of its affiliates here in Belfast, which makes actually banking rather difficult. I think I'm going to open another account with Ulster Bank since there is a branch just by campus. I don't know what to do with the Citibank account, though; I already told QUB they could take my tuition out of there. I might could get that changed, but I'll have to wait until I actually have another account and all the details before I could follow through with it.

I've ventured out in the town a bit, but not too much on my own. When I got back from London, I discovered that I have shingles. It makes me really tired, and so does the medicine I've been given. I'm trying not to let it get to me too much, but it is really depressing that I have to come down with something when I finally am here and settled.

On the upside, I'm pretty sure I'm buying a TV and the whole set-up for me to watch shows and movies and play my games. I also bought an adaptor for my Wii because the little blips in the video and audio were freaking me out a little. Besides the fact that I definitely need to tidy up the room a little (everyone gives me paperwork!), Belfast is starting to feel a bit like home.

Who am I kidding? That makes it exactly like home.

Today is my last full day on US soil.  I guess I should pack.

In all seriousness, I'm not packed.  I have a mental checklist. I have everything (I think) I need in order to make the transition easier.  I have been going over all my clothes in my head to see what I need and what can stay in a box until I return.  I just haven't pulled on the zipper that opens the suitcase.

Let's move on to things I have done.  I have completed the application to open my UK bank account.  I sent it over about a week ago, and I heard from the banking agent today, asking me to give her my phone number so she can ask a few questions.  I gave her my US number, but I don't know if she's going to call internationally or not.  I don't know what information she needs, nor do I figure I can answer her questions if they fall outside of the realm of my name at this point.

I finished my term as a middle school teacher.  While I was only with them for three weeks, my experience ran the gamut of possibilities.  Hearing and vision tests, book fairs, scheduled computer lab visits, and the simple concept of having to walk them to and from the restroom all strained my attempts to make a schedule and stick to it.  I learned a lot about the kids, and I even had to learn the protocol for punishment and reward.

I have now planned a meeting with my Fulbright mentor! We are meeting to have dinner this week, and I am very excited to talk to someone that knows the area well and can guide me in the right direction.

On Sunday, there was a surprise luncheon for me at my favorite Chinese restaurant.  The room was full of family and friends, and it was a lovely time.  I had already said goodbye to Melanie, Erik, and Isy the night before, so it was completely unexpected to see them at the restaurant.  Nova drove down to attend, and I wasn't sure that I would be able to see her before leaving.  As for my family, I had either said my goodbyes or had assumed I wouldn't have the chance. Seeing everyone there was a real shock, and I enjoyed spending time with them before leaving.

I also just received a lovely present in the mail from a friend! I got an email this morning from Cheryl, telling me that she had mailed my surprise on Saturday.  When I read the email, I was afraid it would take too long to get here, seeing as I have been having some trouble receiving things when promised.  Less than ten minutes after reading her email, our mail carrier knocked on the door.

I feel very fortunate that I have friends and family that are willing to go out of their way to make me feel special. Between the party, the presents, and simple things like phone calls and Facebook messages, I have been feeling very loved this week.  It makes it a bit harder to leave them all here, but I know they're all looking out for me and waiting to hear about my great adventure.

My next post will come to you from Belfast!

Several relatively big things have happened since my last entry.  For one, my visa was approved and my visa-bearing passport has been returned to me.  It takes up a full page of my passport and has all the official stamps and notarizations of the British Consulate.  The picture is much better than the one on my passport.  The visa is valid through January of 2013, so I don't have to reapply at any point during my stay in Belfast.

The next big thing that happened was that I have accepted a housing agreement at QUB.  I now have a place to stay through January 24, 2010.  By then, I should know if I will be able to bring my dog, Zoe, over to stay with me.  Either way, I'll likely be looking for an apartment/family that wouldn't mind taking in a quiet, respectful, studious American 20-something.  If this sounds like an advertisement, it's because it is.

I had a problem with the first housing contract sent to me by QUB.  There was a miscommunication somewhere along the line (ahem), and I was offered a contract for 50 weeks. Given that I'm still not entirely sure if I'll be able to stay on at QUB after my grant period is up, I could not accept a contract of that length without fear I might have to break it. Luckily, I contacted the accommodation folks, who are still very kind no matter how many times I bother them by email, and they were able to adjust the contract.  I may not have a large room, but it is an en suite!  I decided I would spoil myself as a hurrah for getting the Fulbright.

I got the paperwork back from the vet from Zoe's titre test, as well.  These papers are part of the requirement for pet immigration to the UK.  Two things worried me when I got the forms: 1, the papers list my mother as the owner of my dog, which she has never been; 2, it has the destination as "Ireland".  I am more afraid that the last one is more of a problem than the first.  I can always say that she was my mother's dog and was given to me, but I'm hoping "Ireland" will work for the whole island and is not meant as a designation for the Republic of Ireland.  After all, I am going to Northern Ireland, but I think it should say "United Kingdom" instead.  I don't know who to talk to except my vet, and she's the one that filled out the papers.

We were matched with our Fulbright Twins this week.  The Fulbright Twins Program is something I didn't even know we were doing; they match each of us will someone going in the opposite direction.  I don't know what they do about the fact that there are far more of the UK-US folks than the US-UK ones.  My Twin is a woman named Mary who is from Belfast.  She is heading for UC Berkeley . . . which means she can probably offer me much more helpful information than I can her.  I've never been to Berkeley before, and California is so different than Georgia that I can't imagine what kind of advice I could give her that any other American couldn't.  She also seems way more accomplished than I am working my way to my goals, and the Fulbright is a major step in the process, whereas it appears it is just another in her litany of personal achievements.

I also received an email from my Fulbright mentor this week. I'm not sure of the circumstances that brought him to be my mentor, but he seems genuinely eager to help me.  He is a businessman in Belfast and wants to meet with me soon after my arrival.  It's going to be nice to have a friendly contact in town.

Meanwhile, I have been spending all my time (well, it feels like it) at the middle school.  On Tuesday of this week, I was there for almost 14 hours; we had open house, and there wasn't enough time to go home before it.  It's amazing how little time is actually spent teaching and learning in the 8th grade.  On Wednesday, there is literally no class time: I take them to the media center and to the computer lab.  It takes up the whole class period, and I just repeat the same thing three more times.  I don't understand middle schoolers, and I kind of hope I never do.  Two weeks down, one to go.

I have yet to really think about packing.  I need to find out a few things, like if the DVD zoning is different there and what I need to do about electrical adaptors.  When I was in Germany, I had some issues with the adaptors; namely, one somehow failed me and destroyed something I had plugged into it.  Last year, when packing for Ireland, I grabbed the wrong adaptor set and had to borrow one any time I wanted to plug in anything.  Any advice on these subjects, or any other little thing I might not consider on my own, would be greatly appreciated.

When I first thought about writing this post, this was how it was going to begin:

"Applying for my visa was so quick and easy, I thought, for sure, I must have done something wrong."

Little did I know.

The application itself was incredibly simple.  The hardest question to answer was how long my address has been my address.  This issue was mainly due to the fact that I have never resided in this house until this July, but it has served as my permanent address (my parents' residence) for several years.  Getting a straight answer out of my mother was fun ("I don't know.  Between two and eight years, I'd guess."); luckily, my father had a much better sense of time ("Four years and eight months -- is that close enough?").

I signed up for my biometrics appointment in Atlanta, had to change it once, and went through the process without issue. I got together what I thought was the necessary paperwork -- the visa application, the stamped and scanned biometrics appointment sheet, the sponsor letter from Fulbright, the passport-sized photograph, the visa letter from Queen's.  I read through the requirements over and over.

When confirmation that my visa application is being processed comes via email, I learn that it was a requirement to send my passport along with the application.  I did not realize, at the time, that the visa is actually attached to a page of the passport.  I was thinking they just needed to prove that I have a valid passport, and I presented it for examination several times during the biometrics appointment.  My passport number and issuing and expiry dates were on the application in many places.

To say that I was freaking out would be an understatement. Thankfully, I had a new good friend who was willing to listen and convince me everything would be fine and someone who allowed me to use a Skype account to call Ms. Elizabeth Hizer, the coordinator for the US side of the Fulbright.  She gave me the name of a contact at the Chicago British Consulate, and my passport was sent off by registered overnight delivery.  It arrived safely the next morning, and my fears were abated.

This is the point where my second post on the visa application was going to end.  You have no doubt noticed, it does not.

My passport arrived in Chicago on Thursday, August 16.  On Friday, August 17, I received a voicemail on my phone informing me that my passport and transcript acknowledging the awarding of my BA degree were needed for further processing of my application, and these things were needed in four days.  I'm hoping that my passport had just not made it into the proper hands at that point because I have nothing else to offer them on that front.  As far as my transcript, I cannot fathom why they would need this piece of paperwork, nor am I aware how I would know they needed it, in order to have sent it in the first place.  

I rushed to the post office Saturday morning and sent off my transcript by registered overnight delivery.  Given the four day requirement, I wasn't going to risk it arriving in five.  I have now spent $35 more than anticipated on the mailing of my visa application.  Regardless, I immediately felt relieved.

The sense of relief lasted until tonight (Sunday night).  In the voicemail I received, I was informed that I would be getting an email, which would basically repeat what was said in the voicemail.  I received that email tonight, and it was mostly what was promised.  However, it also included a code to be written on the outside of the envelope when I sent the additional requirements.  There is a little warning after the code that warns my application may be denied if the code is not present.  Considering I did not receive the email in time, I don't know how I could be expected to give them everything they wanted in the time required.  Hopefully, what I've done is sufficient.

I'm not feeling overly confident at the moment.

After I had informed the immediate family, aware that telling my parents and grandparents would mean the entire family would soon know, and the closest of my friends, I sat bouncing on the edge of my bed for about an hour.  Posting to Facebook ensured that the rest of the world would get the news shortly.

On the next morning, April 15 (Tax day, for all you non-Americans), I was awakened by a phone call from the president of GSU's assistant.  On the following day, the president was holding the first ever State of the University Address, and he wanted me to be part of it.  Despite inquiring, I was not told what I was expected to do, nor what to wear.  

Throughout the day, I received two requests for interviews. At this point in my life, having completed my BA and having my MA a mere matter of paperwork before it was also done, I was anticipating handling very different kinds of interviews. More specifically, I assumed I would be begging for others to interview me for possible jobs, rather than having others approach me with requests.

The State of the University Address went well, and my mother was able to drive up and attend.  They showed me on the big screens, I was addressed in the speech, and I spoke with and shook the hand of the president after the event concluded.  In addition, I learned that I was sharing the spotlight with two other Fulbrighters from GSU!  Three Fulbrights in one year -- not bad for a moderately identifiable urban university!

I found myself in a hurry to complete the paperwork necessary to accept the grant.  Namely, the required physical had to be a rush job.  I drove down to Columbus to visit my family's doctor, but had to be back in Atlanta to get signatures on my thesis paperwork.  The only real issue was the tuberculosis test; I wouldn't be back in Columbus for the test to be read by the time it required.  Instead, I had to find and visit the Gwinnett County Health Services Department and have the TB test injected with no intention of returning. I, then, drove back to Columbus and had it read by my doctor so that the rest of the paperwork could be completed.

Between interviews, Fulbright paperwork, and the paperwork needed to formally complete my MA degree, it was a long time before I knew which end was up!

In September, 2008, I began a US Fulbright Grant application to the United Kingdom.  The odds of getting a US-UK Fulbright are not good -- there were nearly 500 applicants last year for 12 grants --, but my mantra was, "You can't get it if you don't apply."  So I went for it.