I just spent last semester in Cork, Ireland, where I learned valuable life lessons, such as how to not be afraid to ask strangers for directions and how to spend lots of time in pubs and not feel guilty. I traveled in multiple different European cities — yes I know, I am very cultured. During my travels I had to deal with plane delays, missing buses, finding places to sleep when we did miss our bus and random people on the streets asking if I am aware of global warming. However, none of those things were more overwhelming than the first couple days back at Wooster. The first days back after not being here for about eight months were especially overwhelming for multiple reasons. One, the hugs. People in Ireland don’t like to touch, one of the reasons it was the perfect fit for me. I’m too awkward for hugs: I never know when the appropriate time for a hug is or the appropriate person to give a hug to. I spent Winter Break stressed out, thinking about all the people I didn’t know, unsure if I should hug or not when I saw them. This is a very tricky situation. You don’t want to go in for a hug when the other person isn’t, but you also don’t want to just stand there awkwardly wondering if they want to hug but are holding back because they are worried that you don’t like hugs. Long story short: hugs are confusing as a greeting and we should ban them. Two, Lowry. In one of my classes, we had a writing exercise to write about a place on campus without naming what the place was and have people guess. Someone wrote about a “sweaty and competitive atmosphere,” which I guessed was Lowry and it wasn’t until people laughed at me that I realized she was actually describing the gym. When first arriving on campus I avoided Lowry like the plague (with a fiery passion, even). For some reason even the idea made me start sweating. So many people in one place all hungry and after the same thing as me: chicken tenders. Six p.m. in Lowry is terrifying. People all searching for tables and seats, having to find your friends and bumping into people trying to reach for a fork. The worst is trying to navigate to the dish conveyor belt through a maze of table, chairs, people, backpacks and sports equipment as if it were lava, but instead of avoiding burning yourself, you avoid tripping and breaking your dishes and/or ankle. But maybe I’m overthinking it. However, all in all, besides the new coffee, panini maker and confusing printing, Wooster hasn’t changed a bit. I still try to sit in my cozy chair by the window in the library. I still find the same people who sit in Old Main for hours at a time and literally all the same food in Lowry (besides the kale. Also, who took away the pepperoni and salami?). The small-school drama is the same, the intimate and intriguing classes remain the same. I still complain about the weather and about the amount of work I have to do; some things never change. Although overwhelming at first, I am glad to come back to the place I know and love.
Lucy Hellers, a contributing writer for the Voice, can be reached for comment lhellers17@wooster.edu