Still Rainin’, Still Dreamin’

Once again I’m surrounded with faces and names I can’t remember or pronounce, my window looks out onto a shock of electric lime grass and my birkenstocks eternally have a thin varnish of mud. Though now the sea of anonymity is now interspersed with yearlong friends, my window doubles as a place for tea, ukulele and homework, and I am no longer surprised when mould creeps between the leather straps of my shoes. 

My second year has started off better than I could’ve hoped.

encouraging waste segregation @ the buddy ball

The air is sticky and mildewy from where I sit, just perched outside my room, balancing on my windowsill. The rain’s started up again as the internet’s gone down.

The monsoon permeates everything, but I am one of the lucky ones – my room does not smell of mould spores and damp clothes but of “lush tropical images reminiscent of the Daintree Rainforest and exclusive Barrier Reef” thanks to a birthday scented candle on my desk (in reality it smells more of starbursts but I’m not complaining).

Speaking of my birthdays (brilliant segue, I know) – I’m eighteen! My second, and last, birthday on the hill was just as touching and momentous as the first. I did, however, miss my burnt-fish-smelling-rubber-cake of last year, courtesy of my beautifully absent secondyear, Haylee, but the Aussie (and, sadly, Oceanian) Squad on campus has grown by one! I am now joined by Honey and Sam, both from Sydney, as my lovely firsties – I hope I’m doing okay!

After our first trip to Paud with both batches, I returned to campus to be whisked away to an undisclosed location (the roof of TIME) where lay candles, teacups, tea, and people who I love. While it felt strange reaching a (fairly momentous) milestone so far from those I’d always expected would surround me, I realised I now have a home and people who (kinda) like me on two different sides of the globe.

spreading love at ukulele club w raffaele (italy) and andrea (norway)

tea with houra (iran), emila (poland), & ciro (spain)

It was a strange sensation saying goodbye at the airport. After the most idyllic holiday, it was incredibly hard to tear myself away from the green hills of home back to the green hills of Maharastra. Each time I think it will be okay – I’ve left home sporadically for quite a while now – but it was still difficult, as difficult as my bungled flight transfer in Hong Kong which resulted in me going in and out of immigration and running through two terminals in heels. When I finally got to Mumbai baggage claim, at midnight, I spied Emila (Poland), Lizzie (Curaçao), Liambi (China), and Manuela (Colombia) and I felt like I had never left. 

potato soup at community kitchen

my friend dante

While it’s been a weird experience to return with half the community transformed into other unknown people,  it’s been interesting getting to know the first years. My roommates are lovely; Niharika (my co-year from Mumbai), Sherab (Bhutan) and Clara (Denmark), and I share House 10R.

Clara (Denmark) being very hip

my corner! I’ll upload a better pic soon

There has barely been time to breathe with the tumultuous excess of things happening. Between room dinners, sitar lessons, student strikes, tea, concerts, ukulele club, economics, poetry nights, vegan soup cooking adventures, and classes (I go to classes), there is occasionally time for timtams and melbourne breakfast tea.

Much love to all those who have stuck through my utterly awful amount of updates. There may be a travel post soon(ish…).

as always,

all my love,

anna

x

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