Craig's Experience in Wales A personal documentation of my journey as an exchange student in Great Britain

Being here in Wales is about as surreal an experience as I have ever had in my life. Granted, I am only 20 years old and God willing I have much more of life to experience. It seems to periodically hit me at random times that I am actually IN Wales. This whole thing is literally like a fairy tale that somebody just made up off the top of their head. Anybody ever seen the Truman Show with Jim Carey? Yeah, well, that’s kind of how I feel. I look at a group of teenage Welsh kids in their school uniforms and have to hold myself back from asking them if they’re real. I just had another soccer game on Wednesday and once again had the time of my life out there on the pitch. Praise the Lord that I just got over being sick because I was out there running for the entire 90-minute game. For the sake of hearing your laughter clear across the entire North Atlantic, I’ll spare you the score of the game. Let’s just say that each cut on both my legs is representative of one goal scored by the other team. My legs are covered in cuts. And for the sake of symbolism, lets also say that the amount of children I have is the amount of goals that we scored. And I pray that none of you out there is questioning that number right now. After the match my heart was dancing on all nine clouds as my body lay throbbing on the earth below. Despite the murderous score, I would have to say that I was as content as any exchange student ever has been. Now you might be asking yourself right now, “what else is this guy doing in Wales besides playing soccer?” And that is where I answer your question like this: I am doing as much as I possibly can with the time that God has allotted me. For instance, have any of you had the opportunity to see where your parents went to college? Have they talked about it over and over, almost romanticizing ever detail to paint in your head a Van Gogh of where they where? Well, my mom has spoken so much about her yearlong study abroad experience in Bath, England that I have romanticized it myself. “15 Chilton Road…” I think I even heard these words while I was still in the womb. This address is the exact location where her flat was in Bath when she studied at the university while she was my age. Before coming here I made it one of my goals to see that flat—that exact flat that my mother has talked about for so long. No… it wasn’t one of my goals. It was one of my dreams. And you know what? I saw it. I stood outside the flat, took pictures and thanked God for the opportunity I was experiencing. Yet how I got to that point in my Bath adventure is worthy of another entry all in itself. But since I have your attention now I think I’ll digress upon it now. OK, so this past weekend was an absolute blast. The Friday I first got here I signed up for a Saturday day-trip with the Student Travel Shop to Bath. “Let it all begin,” I remember thinking to myself after I paid the 15 pounds for the trip. That Saturday has come and gone and boy do I have gobs of pictures to show for it. So this past Friday, March 2nd, was guy’s night at Jaime’s place. It was a lot of fun with the guys, getting a chance to hang out, talk a bit and watch some DVDs. I have been told that when you’re in the middle of something you completely enjoy, you lose all track of time. It’s like time doesn’t matter and it’s but a concept that “somebody told me about once”. I’ve been told it’s called a “bubble”; representing some kind of place where all you care about is what you’re doing at that moment. Well that’s what it was like at Jaime’s place on Friday. It was a simple, basic night but it was so relaxing to just take it easy and laugh with some of the guys. Most I had met from before but I met a few that Jaime had gone to uni with. Most of them ordered Chinese but I found myself quite full on the snot and mucus that was presently lodged inside my throat and nose. Thank God that all has passed. Eventually we realized what time it was—a little after 1 a.m. By the time I got back to my place and settled down for bed it was near 3 a.m. I had to wake up at 6 a.m. Why? Because they didn’t call for the coach to pick up students that were staying in the Village. I was fine with that because I don’t mind a nice walk to wake me up in the morning. But it’s about a 40 minute walk and we needed to be down there by 8 a.m. So I thought a good hour would get me a shower, some food and feel energized a bit before walking down. Thank you, Lord, for sending your “I’m too lazy to reset my alarm” angel to push me awake when my body was too lazy to get out of bed. You see, I set the alarm for 6 and it went off. Fine. But somewhere between turning off the alarm and trying to get out of bed I dozed off again without resetting my alarm. I re-woke at 6:41 (for some reason I remember the exact time). Hurriedly (which I hate to be), I grabbed my towel and ran to the shower, changed, tripped multiple times over items on my floor, grabbed some food and headed out the door. 7:22. “Should be alright if I walk quickly,” I thought to myself. Half an hour later I was in front of the Student Union building waiting for the bus. 7:52… Within 15 minutes of being on the coach heading toward Bath, it hit me square like a basketball in the face. “I’m going to Bath…holy cow” Realizing the absolute magnitude of that moment, I knew what I needed to do. Knowing full well that it was the middle of the night in Kettering, Ohio, I took out my global phone and dialed home. Just a few minutes prior some friends of mine were discussing where to go when we get to Bath. I laughed to myself—showing glimpses of a smirk as I wanted to tell them, “Ya, well MY mom was in Bath for A WHOLE YEAR. She knows more than those books can tell you.” Granted that does sound like a 5-year old talking, but who really cares when you’re about to live out another dream. So I called mom and we spoke for a bit about Bath and the like… when I got off the phone I had to remind myself once more that I was in Wales. It seemed like I was calling her from across the street. Funny how things are these days with phones and technology. After that call I think I spent a total of three seconds in a conscious state before heading off to dream world. By the time I woke up we were in Bath, England. Eventually we got out of the coach and were met with a chilly breeze and bright sun. I got out my camera right away, making an oath to myself that I would a picture whenever and wherever I felt the urge. And if you view my gargantuan “Bath” photo gallery, you’re bound to ask yourself at least once, “Why did he take a picture of that?” I’m guessing there will be at least one of you out there who will mutter that to yourself because it was something I heard quite often from the people I was walking around with. Who cares what people think when you’re in Bath, England? I could have been in a dress with high heels and not have cared one iota about what people thought about me. As long as I had the camera. So within 10 minutes our group of about 12 people was out and about along the streets of Bath. I remember vividly seeing a bus pass by and gazing just at the right moment to see its writing above the windows: “University of Bath...” “I can’t believe this,” I thought to myself as the bus whizzed by to make its next stop. Part of me felt that my chance to see the university and 15 Chilton Road had just passed. Oh but this guy doesn’t quit that easily. Trust me. Our group was composed of students from universities in Canada, Colorado, Iowa, and of course, Ohio (just me). I’m surprised how many people confuse the name “Ohio” with “Iowa”. Anyway, you’ll see in my gallery the photos I took along the way till we got to Bath Abbey. Before arriving at the Abbey we stopped at the Circus, which is a group of buildings whose architecture formed that of a circle... once again, look at the photos. I felt as though I was in the middle of some taping of some elegant English television show or something. The buildings and trees, grass and even cars seemed to placed very properly and without fault. Hard to describe. Dare I not walk in a straight line I was afraid somebody might take notice. I’m not saying this was un-enjoyable in anyway, I’m just saying that there was a certain elegance about the place. I remember my mom telling me about this place during the phone conversation we had while I was on the coach. I tried to picture her, my mom, walking along the same cobblestone road that I was currently on. It was like all her words—all those words about Bath that I have heard for so long—it’s like they were all taking form. Taking life. It’s almost like throughout the years that my mom has been giving me pieces to this puzzle. And now, having all the pieces, it was as though it was now my chance to make sense of everything that she has shared with me. Each step I took on those streets was like a piece of that puzzle being laid down. It was all beginning to make sense. Now allow me to take a step back… I can’t believe that I am now writing this to you. You have no idea how much this means to me to be able to be doing this. We all have dreams—each one of us has aspirations that we hope one day will be fulfilled. Well, let me tell you as but a young guy that God can do anything with desire and trust. Anything. And when He blesses you with opportunity, do yourself a favor and enjoy every moment given. It’s no coincidence that I’m in Swansea, Wales sitting at my MacBook laptop writing this excessively long journal entry during the wee hours of the morning. There truly is a purpose behind everything that happens. Never, ever let anybody change the desires of your heart. They are there for a purpose and God will use them in incredible ways to show you how great He is. Trust me. He’s showing me. Now back to the Bath story… well, after the Circus we headed to the Royal Crescent, which indeed is another architectural wonder in the land of Bath. You’ll have to see the pictures in my gallery to get the full effect. It’s a series of town houses in the shape of a crescent… rather neat, really. After a few moments of photos and gazing, our group headed to the Bath Abbey. Along the way to the Abbey I marveled at the architecture all around me. It was as thought nobody had touched these buildings for centuries. Everything looked so antique yet so clean and proper… it had the keen impression on me that I was an extra on some beautiful movie set. But no… this was reality and I couldn’t have been any happier. Eventually we got to the Bath Abbey, which were conveniently situated right next to the Roman Baths. We got into the Bath Abbey, which didn’t cost anything besides giving a donation to the church. “Oh…my….gosh…” is all I could utter to myself when I first walked into that abbey. Do yourself a favor and look at my photos of this place. While photos don’t seem to do justice whatsoever to the real thing, jus try to imagine yourself in the photos. The stained glass was absolutely breathtaking and absolutely everywhere within the place. The ceilings… oh, man… and the walls… and the pews… and the prayer rooms… and the statues… and the tablets on the walls… if pictures don’t do justice then it feels my words are doing even less justice. Just look at the photos if you could. And all along the way one can not help but think how much more beautiful heaven will be with our Creator. My favorite part had to have been the stained glass. Just all the colors and the designs and the reflection they gave when the sun poured in through their radiant color… just beautiful. After about 45 minutes in the Abbey, our group left to go to the Roman Baths. Once again, check out the gallery and you’ll notice the photos in there are pretty neat. I am guessing that some of you out there are wondering, “What are the Roman Baths and what is the big deal about a place where Romans bathed?” Well, to begin with, these ARE called “Roman” baths. It’s hard to imagine this place still exists after thousands and thousands of years of existence. At these baths, the Romans did much of their trading, business, and of course relaxation. The water in the baths comes directly from natural hot springs located just below the ground’s surface. Mostly I was amazed at the statues and architecture of the place—check out my photos to see what I mean. What I was looking at, the Romans looked at during their time, too! It’s hard to encapsulate an experience such as this into a few words but I am trying to do my best. It’s just one of those things in which you’d have to be there to understand, really. It wasn’t just Baths, either, but rather a temple was erected there which was central to the Romans and a place in which they did much of their worship and so forth. The name of the temple escapes me, but it was beyond awesome to be able to be at a hand’s reach of actual carvings, coins, jewelry, stones, instruments and pieces of wall that were a part of this majestic place. Not exactly as “WOW” as the Anne Frank House, but the awe-factor was definitely enough where my camera was constantly being used and my eyes constantly gazing about. I mean to think, the Romans actually used this place and the awesome thing is to think of what the place must have looked like at its prime. Neat experience. I stopped in the gift shop and actually got a coffee-table type book, which will be neatly situated in my apartment next year right in front of the couch. I’m sure Joe won’t mind…. After the Roman Baths experience most of us branched off. It wasn’t a thing that we planned but I was incredibly happy that it happened. I found myself with two other people, Letichia, an exchange student from Canada, and Will, the guy that I wrote about in one entry and have posted photos of since. I explained to them the story with my mom and how they could come along with me if they so pleased because I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip by. They agreed to come along (I was a bit surprised at that, but incredibly grateful because Letichia is really good with a map. Needless to say, you may as well hand me a book in Russian just as well give me a map of a place in England and tell me how to get from here to there). Within a few minutes’ time we were in line waiting to catch a bus to the campus of the University of Bath. Standing there… waiting for that bus… oh, man… it was COMPLETELY like a dream. I don’t even know how to capture that moment for you all to envision. I just remember looking around, talking to the two people I was with and doing my best to soak it all up. The temperature was mild and comfortable, the sun was out, clear sky…. if I were to pick the ideal day that would have definitely been it. Eventually the bus came and we hopped on. I was incredibly blessed to have a seat in front of a mother whose little 1-year-old daughter was standing atop her lap. She was the cutest 1-year-old I think I have ever seen in my entire life. Yes, for all my desires to be masculine I have the softest spot for babies. May everyone know that I am a sucker for smiling, giggling babies. At that moment I wish I’d have taken a picture of her but I didn’t want to ruin the moment because her dad was sitting right next to me. The last thing I wanted was an English guy ripping my Canon from my hand and harassing me about being a stalker or something. I even had my comebacks thought out in my head in advance. I even contemplated going the whole, “No speak English” route but realized my Spanish accent is about as good as my Japanese one. So no photo. Just a solid memory of a brunette, green-eyed baby with Piglet stalkings that wouldn’t stop smiling at me. Eventually we got to the university, and I’ll never forget my reaction when I saw the “University of Bath” sign as our bus passed into the entrance road. As if trained, I immediately thought of how far from home I was. To be there at that moment literally took 20 years. And now here I was… in Bath, England … but a 20-year-old guy from Kettering, Ohio in Bath, England. After this brief realization it occurred to me that this moment would never happen again. Ever. I knew what I needed to do. I didn’t know anything about where I was other than “15 Chilton Road”. So once the bus let us off I started taking photos, which will be up in my gallery very soon (if they aren’t up already, but as of this post I was having difficulty putting in the remaining photos.) More pieces of the puzzle were being placed together and I could almost see the entire imagine when I realize there was one piece missing. You could have 999 pieces of a 1,000 piece puzzle but you’re never going to be satisfied until you’ve gone the whole distance and somehow managed to find where that final piece is. My final piece was in the form of a flat. On 15 Chilton Road. I scurried throughout campus, realizing time was precious as we didn’t have the rest of the day to find this place. I asked numerous people where Chilton Road was and nobody knew. Due to a lack of sleep, lack of food and a little thing called human nature, I wanted to pick up one of the students (preferably a smaller one) by the shirt, thrust him against a wall (feet dangling), point my finger in his face and tell him that I didn’t come this far for him to tell me that he “didn’t know where the road was”. Now I’d like to say that all that happened because it sounds cool, but the only place that it all happened was in my head. Sorry to disappoint. After realizing it was a Saturday, I noticed most of the university looked asleep for the weekend. The feeling I had at that moment was like that of the last .1 of a 3.1 mile cross country race… almost there… you can see it but it’s not quite in your grasp. Just got to keep pushing a little harder and the reward will be so much sweeter when it comes… So we walked into the library and spoke to the security fellow. He said that he didn’t know where Chilton Road was, either. The human nature was about to kick in again when I realized how close I was coming. I bolted the library and headed for where he told us to go. I think I was out of the library before I even comprehended what he had said because I was a good 30 yards in front of the other two as they tried to keep pace behind me. I turned around, “Where did he say to go?” I shouted to them as my American accent must have pierced the air and been as foreign sounding as a hailstorm in Florida. “Down there,” Letichia said as I followed her finger toward where she pointed. Eventually we all made our way down to the Office and I explained myself. But wait. This wasn’t the Office. It was just an office but not the one we wanted… I guess none of us comprehended where we were supposed to go. A man came out of the door, though, and he was from Security. I explained the situation to him and he said he could help. He walkie-talkied the Security Office and told them to order a taxi to meet us down stairs in a couple minutes. He told them what I was “the guy with the red jacket” (orange, really) and that my name was “Byer”. At that moment I thought it neat that my name has now been mentioned in more places than just America. Neat little thought I had. This whole scenario was like it had all been planned out before and each person was playing their part absolutely perfectly. I mean this wasn’t easy but it flowed so well. I told the other two to “wait down here” as I ran up the stairs, was confused about where to go and asked a group of guys. Something, for some reason, seems to be a tad frightening about a gasping-for-air American with a bright orange jacket who is asking for the Security Office. Luckily one of the guys pointed me in the direction while the other six just stared as if I had been wearing a dress with high heels. I got to the Security Office, told them my name and what had just happened from the guy downstairs and the guy I was talking to at the desk wrote down my name. Once again I thought how strange it was that my name had been written down in more places than just America. “Why am I thinking this now?” it occurred to me during our exchange. I desperately wanted to take that piece of paper that he wrote my name down on but I quickly realized I was in a bad place to ask for any material that wasn’t mine. I thanked them, ran back down to meet the other two and waited for the taxi. Getting some air back into my lungs, I called my mom and told her what was going on. It was great to hear her voice and be able to experience this all with her. I knew it was a dream come true not only for me but for her as well… like an opportunity for her to relive all those memories that she experienced when she was in my shoes. Eventually the taxi came… we got in, told him where to go and within a couple minutes there came one more road block: “Which Chilton Road?” the taxi driver asked me. “Uhhh… let me call my mom” so I prayed to God that the call would go through, that I had enough credit on the phone and that the phone would pick up. It did and my mom was on the other end. All I remember is that of the two options it was “Snow Hill” and that was it. 15 Chilton Road on Snow Hill… After a minute or two with my mom, we hung up and it was just the three of us in the taxi with the driver. I explained the situation and he said he was willing to wait a couple minutes while I took some photos. “Thank you” was all I could say when I really wanted to let him know the entire story. He was kind enough to let us out to look out on to a beautiful view of Bath and take some photos. It was a view of the whole city from atop a hill and was really breathtaking with the sun beaming down atop the buildings and landscape below. Nothing could have ruined that moment for me. We got back into the taxi and headed toward our destination. Dead silence in the taxi. The driver turned on the radio and the sounds of a soccer game came on the radio as we waited amidst traffic to get to the flat. It was like I could see the finish line… the people on both sides of the course giving encouragement to not give up and push through to the end… More traffic. I almost got out of the taxi as we were at a stand still for a couple of minutes. “Patience”, I thought to myself as we eventually got going once again. We made it up the hill as once again my mom called me on my phone. We chatted very briefly and as I lay the phone down I gazed to my left just as the taxi turned right. My throat underwent one of those gulping I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening responses. “CHILTON ROAD” met my gaze as the white letters became forever branded into my memory. “Holy cow,” was all I could mutter to myself as we started driving down the hill and looking to the right to see for the numbers. “13…14….ah, here it is mate… 15”. The driver stopped the taxi as I wrestled myself out of the taxi as quickly as possible. I started taking picture after picture, trying to get as much angle as possible for my mom. I got Leitichia to take a photo of me in front of it, and at that moment I became completely aware of the magnitude of what was going on. I thanked the Lord for providing me the opportunity as I took a close-up picture of the door with the number 15 atop it. Unbelievable. Yes, it was a flat that looked like all the others that were surrounding it. But to me it was infinitely, completely and extremely more than that. It was the last piece of a beautifully constructed puzzle. Twenty years worth of words now had images to be attached with…. and memories of my own to accompany them. Within a few minutes of taking photos and enjoying the experience of 15 Chilton Road, we were back in the taxi and off on our way back to the university. We thought we’d spend a little more time taking photos, walking around, grabbing something to eat and I finding a University of Bath t-shirt for myself and memories sake. I ended up getting a hoodie from the Sports Complex, so come wintertime at OU next year I’ll be wearing Saturday’s memories with a huge smile. Shortly after getting back to the city area we had to depart for back home to Swansea. I slept the whole ride back, imagining all the way what God can do with desire and trust. Philippians 1:3, Craig ☺