I've Got Mail: Thank Goodness

I think I collect conversations. For every important historical fact I should remember but don’t, I can produce some totally random detail of a conversation with a friend, some pointless wisecrack made to me three years ago, some inside joke that was created fleetingly (so that when I try to reference it, apparently it’s become so ‘inside’ that only I remember it). I’ve always had a fascination with communication, in all its various forms. I applied to study epistolary novels at Oxford, I love to write letters, postcards bring me endless joy, the evolving modern forms of communication fascinate me (i.e. email etiquette or the language of texting). Phone calls and skyping are wonderful, in being able to hear that friend’s voice bridging thousands of miles; and even chatting/instant messaging are growing on me. This is one aspect of my study-abroad lifestyle I thought it might be fun to share with you: a typical day of communication, my myriad of modes of communication with my friends and loved ones.

After I stumble out of bed in the morning, I usually check my phone for texts from friends here in Oxford and run into one of my floormates as I venture to the kitchen. Then I make a bee-line for the infinite joy that is my new laptop: I open several tabs—facebook, email, other email account, etc. May I say, facebook while studying abroad is twice the fun with the time difference: I get to see all my Oxford friends on my facebook schedule, and then in the morning I can catch up on the flurry of nighttime facebook updates from my American friends. Between the pokes, wall posts, pictures, messages, and tagged posts, I feel like I’m reminded on a daily basis of my strong group of friends back home.

Enter the world of email, though, and suddenly the messages feel more grown-up, more important, more personal in a way. There are the hassles of academic emails and bills and responsibilities, and then there are those online-letters composed with love. Email will first and foremost make me think of my best friend, Jessica. As almost twelve-year-old long-distance friends, we utilize each and every form of communication I’m mentioning. But our daily, longer email messages are something I always anticipate; she’s the person I can pour it all out to, the person who gives me a new perspective on my own life, and the person who allows me to be a part of her life taking place thousands of miles across the ocean. She encourages me, advises me, laughs with me, makes fun of me, commiserates with me: anything and everything I could need. Lately I’ve been sending more emails to my other good friends and family too, which I love.

When I’m trying to distract myself from those mountains of reading and that demanding, blinking cursor on the blank page of my latest essay, I love to be distracted with chatting with friends via facebook, gmail, skype. Every week I usually have a few skype dates too, and what could be better than that? I get to “see” my best friends, sorely missed, and at the end of the conversation—where I am blessed with seeing their hand gestures, witnessing their laughs, each of us leaning into the screen, seeing their rooms, admiring their new haircuts, making faces at one another—I feel like I’ve just gotten to hang out with my friend, my brother, my mom.

As I mentioned previously, I love postcards and letters. There’s something about writing my thoughts, seeing them on the page, knowing the recipient will be holding my words; it’s tangible, I’ve been able to shape it, make it my own with the stamp of my handwriting. I really think there’s something powerful in that feeling, something reassuring, not as fleeting as every other form of communication. Jessica and I have been sending each other a packet of communications, with postcards, quotes, verses, pictures, letters, little notes all packed in (which is more economical but also more fun, I think). I love the idea that she’ll open it up and see my two weeks tucked into that envelope: quotes from the reading for school I’ve been trudging through, a verse that touched me deeply, a postcard from a place I visited, a letter about something deeper I’ve been mulling over. It’s all there, a little taste of my life, sealed, stamped, and sent off via airmail. I do the same for my little brother, whom I feel so close to when home but so distant from when I’m here. I hope he knows each time I stick something else in the envelope I’m missing him profoundly.

Finally, I have really, really wonderful conversations in Oxford. I know, right? I actually talk to people in person occasionally too. The pub culture has won me over, and I’ve enjoyed meeting people at Mansfield, laughing with friends around the table at the bustling King’s Arms, talking while walking through the alleyways to the library, over a cup of tea, while cooking dinner together, whispering in church, laughing as we ride our bikes side-by-side. There’s something to be said for this most fundamental form of communication; I think it’s one of the best ways to learn about someone’s personality. My neighbor sits across from me in my room and just radiates calm, brings me peace; my friend from Georgetown studying here as well gets me thinking powerfully, deeply into the night with those intense conversations we somehow slip into; another good friend sparks my sarcasm in record time as she listens to me whine and gives me wonderful advice.

What would I be, what would this study-abroad life be, without all these forms of communication? How would I feel connected to, when I’m so physically disconnected from, all those loved ones across the sea? How would I live three lives, in my three homes, if I were completely cut off from any of them? What a gruesome, depressing thought. Ah, I’m blessed.