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On Life Abroad: Expectations, Curiosity & Reflection - Little Observationist
It was January 23, 2007. I was feeling quite exhilarated by the sound of the train flying over the tracks on my ride to Dartford. The sun had sunk below the clouds on a chilly Winter’s night. I sat in a nearly empty carriage, cramming an airport sandwich in my mouth and watching the outskirts of London fly by the rain-splattered window in a blur. Photo: London train This was on the tail end of my trek across the city from Heathrow, across the ocean from New York via Chicago. London, which I hoped would be as sugar-coated as I remembered it from my brief semester abroad (I lived in Knightsbridge in a building full of Americans, took classes and a part time internship and spent most weekends abroad), was finally going to be my city. Just as soon as I found a job and a place to live, that is. In the meantime, my uncle and his family kindly put up with me. It took a month before I found myself sitting in the posh Hampstead living room of a painter and her CEO husband, trying very hard not to drip an ounce of tea on their beautifully upholstered …