ANTICIPATION: ON GETTING READY TO START AN UNDERGRADUATE DEGREE AT OXFORD

I guess I've always been an Anglophile. ever since I was a little girl, when my mother read me Winnie The Pooh and The Hobbit. However, it didn't occur to me that I could actually go to college in Britain until a couple of years ago. That was when I was a junior in high school, starting to look at colleges and trying to find one where I could study my twin passions: British history and British politics. It is possible to find an American school that offers a fair amount of UK history, but as for politics? Forget about it: not even at Harvard!

So that was when I had my brainstorm: why shouldn't I go and study in Britain? I could learn as much about British politics as I wanted, visit historical sites in person, and have an amazing cultural experience at the same time. I supposed I could study abroad from an American college, but it seemed silly to settle for one year in Britain when I could have three instead. From that point I was totally sold.

There was only one small problem: I had no idea what to do next. Who should I write to? Would I have to take British exams? Did they even accept Americans, anyway? Everyone I talked to said "Can you do that?" I wasn't sure. Luckily, however, on the Internet I found the British Council's website. I wrote to them and they sent me the application forms I needed to find out plus helpful information on how to do it. Even with the information it was tough at times: we speak the same language, but it's a bit difficult to communicate when they call a major a "course," a course a "paper," and a paper an "essay"! However, with a little organization and a good sense of humor I got through it. Everything in the application process was an educational experience of sorts.

Once I had gotten all of the forms mailed off, however, I wasn't done yet. It was with some trepidation (OK, major anxiety!) that I set off for England in December for my Oxford interviews. There were so many horror stories floating around about Oxford that I had absolutely no idea what to expect. What if the tutors laughed at my pronunciation of "Baroque?" What if none of the other applicants would talk to me? Would I fit in? However, I had the attitude that it would be an interesting experience even if I didn't get in, and it turned out that I didn't really need to worry.

In the dining hall the first night I sat with a whole group of international law students who were all from places even further away than the US. Later that night I met some British students who were applying for history or politics: none of them were further than 50 miles from home and some of them were more homesick than I was. We hit it off right away. We went shopping together, walked around town sightseeing, had dinner one night at a coffeeshop that was founded in the 17th century and were generally inseparable. Oh, and I also had two interviews! My interviewers were very friendly, and though one did ask whether I would miss my mother while I was at college (I decided honesty was the best policy and said "yes"), I didn't feel that they treated me any differently than they would a British student. Actually I sort of enjoyed it, and felt I was getting to do something that very few Americans have done.

The interviewers told me "you ought to get a letter by Christmas". So I left, feeling moderately hopeful but hardly daring to dream, clutching the addresses of my new-found friends in my hand and repeating under my breath "Please let me get in, PLEASE let me get in" as I winged my way back to America.

The letter didn't arrive until two days after Christmas, by which time I had worked myself into a state of total neurosis. But to cut straight to the point: I had been accepted! After a bit of hopping up and down, I thought to myself, "only eight months until I'm back in England ..."

In the past eight months I've been anything but idle, corresponding with the friends I made at interviews (thank you Sundeep, Rebecca, Mary, Nadifa and Janet!) and working away at the preliminary reading list that Oxford sent me in March. However, now that October 1st is drawing near, I'm getting awfully tired of people asking me "when do you leave?" This is one major drawback to the British university schedule!

As for packing while everyone else I know is driving off to school with the family minivan packed to the roof, I have only one trusty airline approved suitcase and the US Postal Service. Oxford just sent me a list of things to bring along and though it was very helpful, I don't think it was geared to international students: on the list was a kettle (yes, they do drink tea all the time) and a bike. I still have trouble crossing the roads there on foot without being run over by traffic coming in the "wrong" direction! And I don't think the bike will fit in the overhead luggage compartment...

However, even if going to school in the British Isles does sometimes make you feel like you're packing for an episode of "Survivor," there's one important difference: no one's going to vote you off the island, and you know there's a university out there that voted you on. It's a wonderful thought. I'm ready!