Uni.

DISCLAIMER: This post contains more than 11k words. PLEASE think carefully (at least three times) before you start reading it.

I never thought I’d be so expressive on this website. But over time, I think about it more and more. I later think I should record some parts of my life, as they are all of my profound memories. Uni was so great that I could never wish for something better, and so I want to write everything down, in case I want to read it one day. I don’t know how long this can go, because I probably have way too much that I’d like to share. But I won’t limit my word count. This is not an essay that I need to submit elsewhere; it is for my own memory. And due to the length of this writing, I don’t expect anyone other than me will ever finish reading it. I just want to put it here, so one day, I can read it. Also, to keep its authenticity, I didn’t use ChatGPT to polish my writing. So, bear with my English. You should easily spot my grammar mistakes and weird sentences. 

On 12th September 2022, a girl from Hong Kong boarded a flight to Helsinki, then transferred to London, and started her new chapter of life in the UK. Knowing that would probably be her last time setting foot in her motherland, she packed all her good memories from all her past incredible years into two suitcases. Upon arriving at Heathrow Airport, she took the underground (she didn’t know the underground was called the tube then) to King’s Cross. She then struggled to find her train platform, as the whole King’s Cross station was vast, complex, unfamiliar, and overwhelming to her. Luckily, some kind gentlemen helped her lift her suitcases, which were nearly as heavy as herself, and pointed her in the direction of the platform. She therefore managed to escape the maze-like underground station and made her way to her train platform. Without an idea that something called the railcard existed, she took the overpriced 2-hour train up North. (That was almost a hundred pounds, which is exactly what two people can save if they book their flight with Jet2.) Finally, she arrived at her destination, York. The images she had once only seen online suddenly appeared before her eyes, turning all her imaginations into reality. This was her first day in a new place, in a new country. This is where she would later call home, where she would have both laughter and tears. Fast-forward, more than a thousand days had passed. After three unforgettable years, perhaps the best of her life, she now leaves with all those memories, as a very different person from the one who first arrived. 

Uni still feels very surreal for me. A lot, a lot of things had happened, and I couldn’t believe it had been just three years. If you asked me three years ago, that girl wouldn’t have believed everything that would happen in her next three years at uni. She had never imagined that she would meet so many nice people, and even live with her very best friends, who would always be by her side. With those nice people, she shared all her memories with, no matter whether they were good or bad. She had never thought that she could continue playing dodgeball at uni. And not just playing for uni at BUCS, somehow the uni club led her to somewhere even more competitive, where she would meet many people outside of uni. She had no idea that during a lunch in the canteen between her classes, she would create a new mahjong society with her flatmates, while she didn’t even know how to play mahjong before uni. She became a very different person over time, because all those small things that added up profoundly influenced that girl. I have no idea how I can put words to describe all those amazing times at uni. But I hope I can explain bits by pieces clearly, by categorising different aspects of my uni life.  

Flatmates

When I told one of my flatmates that I think I’ve changed so much since attending uni, she asked if our whole flat was the reason. I answered her that, I think, that was because of everything that happened during these three years, and the people I have met. Of course, my flatmates were part of that, and so they were part of the reason. I’m always glad to live with all of them, and living with them for two years was like living in a dream. In our flat, I could always feel at home. It’s somewhere I can find relief, somewhere I can be myself, and somewhere I can do silly things without double-thinking. York isn’t a large uni where you could find many Hong Kongers, but somehow, in this small uni, I found some lovely people with whom I lived for two years. It’s unbelievable to find people who share the same culture and language in a foreign land, and they are also someone who matches your vibe. It doesn’t mean they are perfect, and in fact, I was always annoyed by one of my flatmates’ loudly singing in the kitchen or in his room. But, somehow, those imperfections made the whole flat feel like home. It’s a place where we would share groceries (such as rice) or home supplies, but it’s also a place where we would chill out after each of our daily tasks. In this place, we cooked and had meals together, celebrated different festivals together, and played mahjong or board games together. This flat and the flatmates I spent two years with were like a home, a proper home. As international students, we might not have a home with parents in the country, but I’ve found a home with someone to be my family here in York. I couldn’t imagine what my uni life would be without them. I shared most of my happiness and sadness at uni with them, and honestly, I still couldn’t think of losing that bit this autumn. Because of them, I won’t be home alone all the time, especially during Christmas. This is the season when almost everyone is home with their parents, and those days always hit harder than usual. And I always felt this flat is even more homey than my actual home back in Hong Kong. At home with my parents, we would only have dinner and do grocery shopping at weekends. We barely spent time in the living room. Mostly, I would stay in my room, my dad would stay in my parents’ room, and my mum would be alone in the living room. We all have our designated individual corners, and we wouldn’t bother each other. But here, in this home in York, we created memories together. We might chill in the kitchen, have fun together, and most importantly, we celebrate festivals. We light fireworks on Bonfire Night, we exchange gifts during Christmas. These are all the things that I wouldn’t have in my home with my parents. I don’t know how much I would still remember, let’s say, after ten years. But I think I would always remember each of them individually. And I would probably remember the marathon relay we did together (thanks to my flatmate’s boyfriend, who suggested this idea to us when my flatmate and I were discussing joining the 10-mile race). On that day, we experienced all of the seasons. Many of us were completely soaked after finishing our parts, and the sun was finally out after we all finished. Oh, we also took a whole box of cans of water home, hoping to make some of our money from joining this race worth it. At that time, we could only take either bananas or those cans of water. And obviously, we can’t eat or keep too many bananas, so we took a whole box of cans of water home. (Btw, I just checked the price for the whole box on Amazon, and it costs 15 quid. Worth taking back home, I guess?) I’d also probably remember that we created a brand new mahjong society together. But I shall say this in another section, as that’d probably be too long and dull if I put it here. 

Friends

I didn’t just meet my flatmates. In fact, I had met many people, and some were always with me throughout uni. So, I think, it’d only be fair that I write about them in another section. I’m always grateful to meet some of my very good friends, and with some even since the first few days upon arrival, whom I’d spend time with over these three years. I never thought I’d meet such lifelong friends on the very first day moving into the uni dorms. Everyone definitely meets many people when they first get to a new place. But most would be gone, and only very few, or even none, stayed. I’m so glad that I’ve met the people with whom I can have fun, chill, and share life since the very first day. My early days here wouldn’t be so great without them, and I wouldn’t have such a smooth transition to my new uni life without them. I guess everyone is fragile and vulnerable when they first come to a new, mysterious environment. But since we had each other, everything seemed to be better than it apparently was. I couldn’t imagine what my uni life would be like if I hadn’t met someone whom I could talk to and kill my time with, and I appreciate them for bearing my yappings until now. I’m also glad to meet my other friends, whether I met them in dodgeball, the Hong Kong community, in my course, or at some random places. I probably wouldn’t have gone through uni without someone to go to classes with me, especially in my first year, when I first came here. Sometimes, for some context, only the people in the context understand what you’re struggling with, or understand some specific jokes or topics. Without some good company that I could lean on, the degree itself would definitely be more overwhelming (although it’s already overwhelming enough). Unfortunately, one of my friends, with whom I had classes, betrayed me by being kicked out of uni due to plagiarising twice on the same paper, metaphysics, in his second year. I was so upset when I heard the news. Till now, every time I see sea bass on the menu, it still reminds me of him, as this was something he ordered all the time. But this is life, I guess, right? I sincerely hope one day he can pass his metaphysics, at least once in his life. (I know. Metaphysics is hard. But he had three chances, and still couldn’t pass it once. That’s unacceptable.) Everyone says uni is lonely compared to school, as you won’t always have friends who are with you all the time. But, at least, when you had someone you could go to classes with, had someone you could have lunch with between classes, these make the lonely journey less than it sounds. I always thought I had no friends here in York, as I barely spoke to the people in my class. Compared to many of my friends back home, they seemed to get along so well with their coursemates. Perhaps I was just scared of them because they looked the same, but I was different, and all of them seemed to know each other well while I was all alone. But when I thought about what I had these three amazing years, I realised I wasn’t all alone. I actually have friends. Many friends. Not just random hi-bye friends, but some lifelong friends with whom I would stay close, even after graduation. And my times in York wouldn’t be so great without any of them spending time with me, and I appreciate them always being with me. 

Dodgeball

Many people asked how I learnt about dodgeball when I first came to uni. I know most people learn and start dodgeball at uni, but for me, this is something I’ve always been doing over the years. I’d been looking at the dodgeball club once I got admitted to York, as I couldn’t think of my life without some dodgeball. I recall attending the first training session, where everything was new and unfamiliar. I was extremely shy and nervous, as I was the only one like me there. A girl from Hong Kong chose to join an unpopular sport, with almost no internationals playing for it. How can this weird combination be put together? Just like being the only different one in the class, I felt so out of place at first, too. It was not as bad as in class, though. Thanks to some experience I had before uni, dodgeball is at least something I’m not too bad at. I still remember just after the first few trainings, they were asking us to play in matches. I wasn’t prepared and ready at all, as we barely knew each other, and I had to be in the car with them. It didn’t sound right to me, but for dodgeball, I always dare to do something I wouldn’t dare to, as I kind of want to play so badly.  So, I played my first match for York while I wasn’t quite familiar with all the callings and my teammates at that time. It didn’t really matter how it went for the first game, but at least I gave myself a chance to do something I’m so afraid to. And in fact, everyone in dodgeball is always so nice. I probably wouldn’t feel this kind of welcome and warmth in the dodgeball club if I joined it elsewhere. I was nervous and frightened about all the socials when I first came to uni, as these kinds of socials were not something I was familiar with. But over time, I enjoyed it so much because of the people (maybe not chugging the whole 1-litre White Storm cider at the park again, its taste was just so gross). Sometimes it could be too much, especially when I said I wouldn’t be going to the club, but ended up enjoying myself in the club. I always say that I learnt all the music here from the clubs, karaoke or in the car. Honestly, before going to uni, I barely knew any of the songs in the clubs or those my teammates sang in Karaoke. (Footloose, Sweet Caroline, and even Mamamia were quite unfamiliar to me.) But thanks to everyone around me in dodgeball, I learnt so many new songs. Of course, when I first came here, I thought dodgeball would just be a sport which I play for uni and get involved with the club alone. I never knew that I’d have the chance to play somewhere even more competitive with some serious training. When one of my teammates told me about a dodgeball club in Leeds, and we could go with someone who would give us a lift, I never thought it’d turn out like this. Perhaps because at that time, I had no idea about dodgeball in the UK. But I’m always grateful that I had the chance to play for a local club, which led me to play at the Nationals. I wouldn’t have improved so much and quickly without being able to join and train in Leeds, and I wouldn’t have had the chance to play competitively without being trained there. And it wouldn’t have been possible without my lovely teammates who always gave me a lift for dodgeball training back and forth between York and Leeds. Oh, I probably wouldn’t forget that time staying down south a night for the nationals. That was my first time staying with all British people for over 24 hours. Even at uni dorms, you’d always go back to your room and cool down at night. What was even more shocking was that we surprisingly got a double bed instead of two single beds, and so we made ourselves a “pillow barrier”. By the time we finished games on the second night, at the drive-through on the way back home, I was completely knackered, mentally and physically. So I could only say, well, this is my first time surrounding myself with you guys, speaking in English for this long! Despite being knackered, that weekend was packed with fun and joy. And I’m happy to be a part of the team and share that moment with the people at that time. Btw, thank you for introducing me to the Cumberland sausage. I learnt so much new vocabulary by playing Cards Against Humanity. Shout out to Google for the help during the game, too! Although playing for the dodgeball club in Leeds means that I would need to travel to Leeds for training on both Tuesday and Thursday night, right after the dodgeball training sessions at uni on both days. I also had to play games for both Leeds and BUCS on some weekends, with regular gym sessions on Monday, Wednesday and Friday to maintain fitness. But I guess with all the good (and bad, for example, being injured on my knee and having to use crutches for a while and not being able to play dodgeball or anything) memories I had with dodgeball, everything pays off. At uni, in BUCS, I was often the only girl playing, as we were in the men’s league. And I know, in our uni team, I am better than many of the boys. But that shy girl in her first year had never thought she would become the player someone wished to be one day. When I heard one of my teammates telling me this, I was so shocked, as I never dreamed I would become this kind of player at uni. But I also think the fact that I won the last person in my last uni session with my injured knee (I couldn’t even bend my knee at that time) spoke a lot. I guess over time and all the effort I’ve put in, I’ve become a better player, someone people might think of as such a good player. When my teammates know that I’m leaving, everyone is telling me that they’re sad, with some even saying I betrayed them. Honestly, I do too. I’m probably going to miss uni dodgeball so badly. This doesn’t just mean that I can’t play with the people I like so much, but also those good times we spend on socials, or chill and chit-chat after training in the Courtyard (the Courtyard is one of our uni bars). Without those kinds of chit-chat moments, my teammates would never find out I can actually smile, and I don’t look mad all the time. The seriousness, focus, and probably a bit of poker face of me would only stay on court (despite all of my flatmates disagreeing so).

Mahjong Society

Nearly midway through or almost the end of my second semester in my second year, as usual, I met two of my flatmates in Vanbrugh (one of the uni canteens) after finishing my class. Once I sat down, I could sense an unusual vibe between them. One of my flatmates then told me that they were thinking of founding a mahjong society. I wasn’t sure, but I also knew uni was the only time I could do something crazy, so I told them I’m in. After going back to our flat for a discussion with our other flatmates, we confirmed that we were going to create a new Mahjong Society. At our initial stage, we thought this society would be full of those elite players who came by and played every week, especially those students from China or Hong Kong. We thought we would only need to set up tables for those elite players to have fun. In fact, many of our members were not those with a huge exposure to an Asian background, but learnt and started playing mahjong seriously because of us. All of our members were from very diverse backgrounds, which is even more varied than any of my classes. The mahjong society itself is just like an international hub where you would meet people from anywhere around the world, and they all came together for one thing: mahjong. This is surely more than I could have thought of when we first founded this society. We not only provided a platform for mahjong players to meet and have fun, but also delivered and spread the mahjong culture abroad. And I probably wouldn’t forget, as part of the promotion of our largest event of the year, the mahjong tournament, we hung up posters in every department and every major teaching building (at least on Campus West, legally and illegally). That was my first time knowing our uni is actually not small at all, and we spent the whole afternoon just hanging posters around. I probably shouldn’t suggest this silly idea, to be honest. Also, thanks to the society, I can probably teach mahjong better in English than in Cantonese. I couldn’t count how many people and how many times I had taught over the year. The routine of my Monday was changed because of mahjong. After going to the gym and going to classes, there was always mahjong waiting for me. And I remember one time, one of my coursemates joined our session as a beginner, to my surprise, and we had a lecture together just right before the mahjong session. I actually promised my coursemate not to worry, as mahjong would be easier than the lecture before I started my mahjong “lecture” (I definitely lied). With all the teaching, preparation, organising events, and doing all the admin work for mahjong, I have to admit they were tiring. But I am glad that I had my flatmates as teammates who worked with me for this society. Without any of them working for this society, we probably wouldn’t have this ending. We were even lucky enough to receive the “Highly Commended” award as the New Student Group by the end of the year! Ending my uni and leaving the society like this, nothing I could wish for more, I guess. And of course, these all weren’t created by me alone, but every one of the committee and some of our good friends, being helpers, came to every social, made these all happen. The society wouldn’t have turned to something like this without the effort from anyone who had helped, and I appreciate all of their support.

Growth

I can’t lie that this section is probably the most difficult one for me to write. I don’t even know how and where to start. I think my earliest memory was probably asking about resit after a lecture in Reason & Argument. That was around halfway or nearly the end of my first term in my first year. Since my friend and I were both overwhelmed by the lecture, we wanted to ask about the opportunity of getting a resit if we failed the exam. But none of us dared to ask. So, we did the rock-paper-scissors right outside the lecture theatre. I won in the first round, but I was too silly to agree to a best-of-three. At the end, I lost. Then I asked my first few questions I ever asked at uni. And as I thought I would fail the exam, I worked hard on the module and asked my lecturer for help multiple times. By the end of the term, when I visited my lecturer’s office hours for the last time, my lecturer told me that I would do great in the exam. Hearing that, I answered my lecturer I hope I can. This was a pretty good answer, I thought, as I couldn’t guarantee I would do great for the exam just by hearing so. But my lecturer wasn’t quite satisfied with this answer. He suddenly changed his smile to a serious face, then said “nonono, it’s not that you hope you can, but I’m now telling you that you will”. I was shocked, of course, and I think I just answered okay. Honestly, I had never heard something like that ever in my life. No one ever challenged or corrected me on this matter. I know that at that time, my lecturer was trying to give me confidence and correct my self-depreciation, but I didn’t know I was doubting myself too much back then. I remember this, probably because it had shaken my mind a bit, and no one ever told me anything like this before. But that time still wasn’t the time I struggled the most. Probably because in my first year, things were easier, and I always had my friends going to classes with me, as most modules were compulsory. It doesn’t mean I felt good, especially about seminars, though. In the first term of my first year, I had a module in International Relations. I had no background in history at all, as my school didn’t have any history courses (Basically, it violates the rule set by the education bureau). So, when the first few weeks were solely focused on history, I was completely lost. And the lecturer was someone with a super thick accent, as he is from somewhere in South America. So, I couldn’t guess what he was trying to say, nor could I understand what he was actually saying. The seminars were even worse. Our seminar tutor for that module required everyone to speak up after a small group discussion. We had to tell the whole class what we had individually discussed in the smaller groups. At that time, I had just got there. With my awful English and unfamiliarity with the content, I couldn’t follow or understand what my classmates were saying, and so I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t just ask them to repeat every sentence after one of them finished their speech. And for politics, many of their discussions often led to a debate mode. I didn’t want to go to any seminar at all in that module. But at that time, I was holding a student visa (Luckily, I wasn’t anymore since my second year, as I changed my visa). I was afraid I would receive a warning letter, so I attended every one of them. I just cried after every seminar, on the way back home. How did I solve the fact that I had to speak up after smaller group discussions? I didn’t know what others were saying at all, but for one thing I know certainly. For everything about China, I probably knew more than any of them did, and so they could never judge me, even if I said something wrong. They could never find out anyway. It wasn’t ideal, but at least I wasn’t brainless. In the very last seminar of this module, our seminar tutor suddenly asked if we’d like to just chit-chat instead of discussing the materials. This was what she’d usually do in the very last seminar. Before we actually talked about anything, she asked me the first question. She asked me how an international student like me follows along in lectures, especially when the lecturer has a thick accent. I mean, how could I answer that? Telling her that I was completely lost and I didn’t know why I was here? So, I answered her that I’d watch the lecture replay back home with subtitles on. I didn’t care if she was satisfied with my answer, but at least I gave her something that she could hold on to. And, of course, those replays couldn’t help much if you didn’t understand much of the historical context in those lectures. At that time, I thought that was my toughest moment at uni. But I was so wrong. My struggles peaked when I was in my first semester of my second year. And honestly, I already have a stomach from thinking and writing about all these at this point. But I still want to write, only because I want to record them before I forget. In my first semester of my second year, I had an extremely hard module called Logic and Paradox, which was taught by the same lecturer who taught me Reason & Argument in my first year. At that time, I couldn’t understand the lecture, I couldn’t understand the readings, and I couldn’t follow at all in any seminar. Everyone in the seminar room seemed to speak English so well, with smart thoughts, and I was the only one who was so different and couldn’t follow at all. In that semester, I also had a politics module called Can Democracy Work. When I attended the first seminar and heard that we would have debates bi-weekly, I checked the timetable immediately. Then I found there were other groups which were taught by a different seminar tutor, so I swapped. But, honestly, it didn’t matter, as soon I’d be sitting in a cafe right opposite the seminar room, but not making my way there. In one lecture about national identity, my lecturer casually said, “I assume you’re all British, and will be voting in the upcoming general elections…”, then continued to talk about English and Scottish identities. I knew I shouldn’t take that seriously, and my lecturer didn’t mean it. But at that time, with all the thinking that I didn’t belong there, and I shouldn’t be in the class, I just wasn’t feeling good at all. I mean, I’ve never had a considerably free and fair election in my life, and I also want to vote. I skipped every seminar for that module after that. I had tried to attend by staying on campus, waiting for that seminar, but I just didn’t want to go to seminars. But for Logic and Paradox, I went to more seminars for that module, as I had another seminar for Economics before that in the same building. It took me so long to convince myself just to get into the room every time, though. For most seminars, I would hood myself up, as that gave me more security, and it made me feel less stressed. There was also an interlude. When I went to the office hours with my friend for this module, I asked how many seminars we had to attend as a minimum. Then my lecturer asked why I didn’t want to go. My friend tried to cover me by saying that we might be lazy sometimes. But my lecturer didn’t seem to believe that at all, and so I revealed the truth that I didn’t feel I belonged. My lecturer didn’t seem happy and even a bit pissed to hear that, and we argued a bit on that. I thought it’d just be like that, but the next morning, I received an email from him, encouraging me not to skip. Of course, I kind of just ignored that email at that time. Fast-forward to the second semester in my second year, I pushed myself to attend more and more seminars. It doesn’t mean things were great, though. In one of my seminars, I was stuck in the middle, while everyone apart from me formed groups and had people to talk to. I knew I should be more initiative. But most of the time, I just thought those people were unlucky whenever they formed groups with me, as they wouldn’t learn anything. So, I just kind of let this happen. At the same time, I didn’t feel good and wanted to pack and leave the room. But I also felt bad for the seminar tutor because I was the problem, not him. To kill time sitting in the middle of the room without anyone to talk to, I instead talked to ChatGPT. It wasn’t a great experience, but at least I survived at that moment. Then it was the first semester of my third year. At that time, I had a super great lecturer for Middle East Politics. He made me want to attend every seminar, as it’d be a pity to skip any. His classes were too great, and gradually, I wanted to contribute to seminars. I wanted to speak up for the very first time. I couldn’t do so in any of his seminars, even though there were so many moments that I wished I had spoken up. So, I told myself, I had to get this done in my last semester. In fact, in the first term of my first year, I wrote myself a sticky note with goals that I wanted to achieve. That included keeping things on track, being okay even if I don’t understand, and answering questions in seminars. And fate came to me that, in my last semester, I had the lecturer who taught me Reason & Argument in my first year and Logic and Paradox in my second year again, this time teaching me a PPE module. Everything was telling me to do something I had not achieved. It wasn’t quite a success at first. Although I did a self-introduction and asked a question in seminars of another module, I was stuck in the middle without a group in the first seminar with him. It made me flash back to that time when I was in my second year. At that time, I was very disappointed with my performance, and those not-so-good memories came up. During the break, I ran to the toilet for 20 minutes. I knew I shouldn’t do that, but I was just so lost. But then I told myself, let’s try again and this time we needed to do it. Then, in the next seminar, I finally spoke up for the very first time, as my groupmate couldn’t fully understand my point, and so I had to clarify. And my lecturer said he thinks I am right. Honestly, I still couldn’t quite believe this happened at all. Not only did I speak up, but my thinking wasn’t too bad. I’d treat this as my small victory, as I couldn’t wish for any better moment. Although I was the only one he’d call by name to answer questions, I hated seminars sometimes because of that. Honestly, I didn’t understand why not to learn some more names when the seminar only had four. Calling on me directly meant I couldn’t dodge and had to answer. Those moments were scary, but I think I’ve overcome them. By the end, seminars weren’t too bad at all, and I enjoyed them sometimes. It wouldn’t have ended more beautifully than actually replying to the email I got in my second year, the one telling me not to skip seminars. Thanks to my flatmate’s suggestion when we brought this up at one point, after finishing all my classes with that lecturer, I literally replied to his old email from 1.5 years ago. I appreciated my lecturer for his care and his attempt to help, but I also think that was my victory. His reply to my reply to his old email directly pointed out my biggest weakness, though. Over the years, he was definitely a big part that made me realise perhaps my biggest hurdle wasn’t the language or being the only different one, but my self-confidence underneath. I wasn’t someone who trusted myself so much. Mostly, I just thought I was stupid. Everyone around me was way smarter than I am, so I was actually useless. Compared to my coursemates, I was definitely the most useless one at the beginning, and every one of them had more knowledge in the subject than I did. Even when I told my mum about that, especially as in the context of my degree, my mum agreed every time. But perhaps, after all, I wasn’t that bad, and maybe I was smarter than I thought. Here, I should give some credit to my lecturer, as he has somehow influenced how I think of myself. One of my friends once said, at uni, no one would guide or teach you how to do things, as we are all grown-ups, and they treat us as adults. I think this is mostly true, but I also think that at some point, I did learn something outside academia and grow as a person. I’m definitely more confident than I used to be, not just because some people have told me, but I can feel myself being more capable of tackling challenges. 

Extras

HKPASS

I had been thinking for long whether I should write about this section. It’s not that I don’t think I have way too little memory of it, but it involved too many things. A typical society organised by Hong Kongers, typical politics involved in the whole PASS community. But still, I’m grateful to have this society in York. It gave me a chance to meet my flatmates and some other Hong Kongers, not just in York, but also across different unis in the UK. I had never thought that I’d have my first debate at LSE, hearing that fantastic speech from a Cambridge lad. I had also never thought that I’d meet many different Hong Kongers outside York. Most importantly, I met my then future flatmates here, with whom I spent two-thirds of my uni life. These were all contributed to HKPASS. I also wondered if my adaptation to my uni life would be this smooth without HKPASS. Here, people are always friendly, sharing information or things with me about York or the UK itself. I wouldn’t know so much if I had never known them. I remember buying my first pack of Thai rice here, because my then flatmates brought me to Morrisons, making me realise that whole new world. Before that, I always just stuck with ASDA and never knew that Morrisons had so many Asian collections. Of course, more reasons made me want to be a committee member in my second year, but these were some of them. Despite that, being on a committee with just three of us was not something I planned or expected. I also never thought I would be on a committee with all of us living together, making our shared kitchen our conference room. All of our other flatmates were our set helpers/slaves, and they had basically no choice. Remember that time when we organised our annual flagship, we occupied our kitchen for the entire two weeks. The kitchen table was fully occupied by us with all our laptops and some other materials. Some of our other flatmates, without a proper table, had to use a side table to make their dishes. That scene was so memorable for me. Sorry about that, my mate. I’m always glad to have my flatmates, even though some of them weren’t on the committee; they supported us on everything we did. I also couldn’t forget the moment when the flagship was close by. At that time,I had no time at all for grocery shopping, or even time to cook. But I ran out of instant noodles at that emergency time. One of my flatmates kindly suggested that he could lend me a pack of instant noodles. That moment meant so much to me, especially since I was so stressed and tired from the whole flagship. Especially as he isn’t someone who shares things very often. Of course, nothing is perfect, and my time in society as a committee member isn’t perfect either. There were many things that I wished I could have done more of, or things that I could have achieved. But I think I needed all the timings and people to make things work. And the reality is that, sometimes, it won’t be super ideal or a fantasy, even if you hope for some to happen. This is life and fate, I think. But still, I am happy with everything we have done for the society as a committee, or everything that I have because of being in the committee. At least, I probably wouldn’t have the chance to have an intellectual talk with an academic about so many things if I weren’t on the committee. 

Berlin Half

At the beginning of the second semester of my second year, I watched ”Real Run”, a reality show featuring a couple of artists from Viu (A TV channel in Hong Kong, just like Channel 4), running a marathon with a year of training with no previous background in running. After watching that, I set myself a goal to finish a 10k race at some point soon. In fact, I always wanted to complete a 10k race, or even a full marathon. And I knew 10k is the beginner level to a full marathon, so I really wanted to get this done. At school, I was in the track and field team and the cross-country team. Although I didn’t do any proper running since COVID, and at my school, we barely trained and mostly just participated in competitions, I still think that a 10k wouldn’t be hard for me. Especially as I had done quite a few 5k races at school. So, I signed myself a 10k race which would be in the summer. I probably signed up sometime in February, but I rarely run at that time. I only started my proper training in June, which means I only had around two months before the race. But the more I run, the more I realise I actually quite enjoy running. At that time, the results for my second semester of my second year were out. Not wanting to see the result, I went out for a run to escape reality, at least for a while. It was so refreshed and cool when I ran. It was such a good relief, and all of my stress was out at the time I was running. Gradually, I thought 10k wouldn’t be a challenge for me, and I wanted to do something more before graduating from uni. So, I looked for the half-marathon, which is probably the next step for a 10k. When I searched for it, I found out I might need to travel somewhere if I want to do the half-marathon in a proper race, even in the UK. There were some other options, but the dates were not so great, either after my graduation or just before my exams. So I just thought, if I had to travel, why didn’t I go somewhere abroad and join a big race? Then I signed up for the Berlin Half. To prepare for that, I spent hours training after the marathon relay with my flatmates in October. Remember I said I had gym on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and dodgeball on Tuesday and Thursday, and matches and games on some weekends? To make this work, I did my runs at the gym before I did my other workout. I ran the long course on weekends whenever I didn’t have a match. Mondays and Fridays were for the easies, and Wednesdays were for tempos/intervals. This was exactly my normal week, which I had every week. To be honest, I felt crazy even though I just thought about it sometimes. I thought it ended beautifully, as I hit the goal set for myself, which was to complete it in two hours. I did that, and after spending some time in Berlin, I visited Denmark, travelling in Copenhagen, Aarhus and Odense. I had a pretty good time in both countries. But, before getting my flight to Berlin, I got a message from my dodgeball team’s teammate from Leeds, asking me if I would be free for a match. That was on a Sunday, exactly a week after my debut half-marathon, and the next day I got back from Copenhagen. Knowing they didn’t have enough players, I agreed to play. That was one of my most stupid decisions I had made. I didn’t think of the consequences of that. I never thought I would be out of dodgeball and running after that match for months (and still not fully recovered). I got back home the night before the match, at around 1 am. With less than enough hours of sleep and tiredness from all the travelling, plus the half-marathon a week ago, I played in the match. In the first set of my first game, right at the beginning, I ran forward, then I stepped back, and I slipped. My knee then had the cramp-like pain, the painfulness that I had never had. I was forced out for my first game, and at that time, I thought my pain would be temporary. I thought they would be gone soon. I was so wrong. I tried whatever I could, ibuprofen, both pills or spray, they did help a bit, but not much. Feeling better, and knowing that we didn’t have enough players on court, and they needed me, I stepped back on court from my second game. I played three games in total on that day. At that time, I knew my knee was probably not so good, but I didn’t think it would be that bad. While no one is going back to York, meaning I had to take the train, one of my teammates was willing to give me a lift to Harrogate. Of course, I took the offer. And when I was in Harrogate, trying to walk up and down the stairs to the platform, I knew it wasn’t as minor an injury as I thought. I couldn’t do the stairs. I had to half jump, half walk to finish the stairs. And at that time, my knee was super swollen. Every step I made was like a cramp-like pain. I knew something was wrong with it, as I am always an active sporty person.I have been playing sports since I was maybe three, and that was the worst I have had. The next day, I went to the hospital. The nurse practitioner told me that I’d recover in a week or two, and this is common among athletes. He is such a big liar. I didn’t get any better in a week, and I even needed to go to the hospital again. That time, they did an X-ray for me and gave me crutches. The X-ray result was fine, so my bones were all good. When I told the doctor I had ibuprofen but not paracetamol, the doctor urged me to have both. Wow, good advice.Thanks, doctor! At the same time, I went to a private physio. My physiotherapist suspected that it was probably a meniscus tear, as the X-ray result was great. It was good to know about that, but it also meant it takes time to heal. Not anytime soon, but sometime. Originally, my whole flat was planned to go ape on Easter Monday, which was a week after I was injured. Of course, I missed. And the whole week after I was injured, I cried day and night. Sport isn’t just my relief, but it’s also something that I think I can do. I am so terrible at so many things. I’m not smart, but sports, dodgeball, and running are the things I can do. When all was taken out of my life in a sudden, I was so upset. I felt like my life was falling apart. I even thought I was so useless after all. I lost all meaning in life. Not only I couldn’t do the normal things, but I also needed to take an Uber or bus to travel around. I enjoy walking, especially the walk back home after gym or class is such a relief. I couldn’t do any of those, and even struggled just to walk, all of a sudden. I still went to the gym, as recommended by my physiotherapist, but I could only do the physio exercises and my upper body. I couldn’t run. Every time I saw people running on the treadmill, I was so jealous. It was so hard to accept all of these moments. For a month, I wasn’t even able to walk so much; I was really not feeling great at all. Especially since the final exam was coming, and I couldn’t do anything to relieve my stress, it hit me so badly. But time shall pass. That was the toughest exam I’ve ever taken, and I didn’t do too well, definitely the worst out of my three years. But this is life, and we have to take it and learn from it sometimes. I’m still making progress on my knee, although I’m much better now. At least, I’m now returned to dodgeball and running, even though I still can’t do too much on either of them. But I hope with my consistent physio exercises for my knee, I’ll return to the fitness level before my injury sometime very soon, and beat my past self not long after. 

Backpacking

After finishing all exams for uni, I started to think about what I want to do next and what I want to achieve. I then think of myself as an introverted, shy, and nervous person all the time, and I want to open up more about myself. It doesn’t mean I want to be an extrovert, but at least I shouldn’t be scared of people, especially those I first meet in an unfamiliar environment. I want to grow as a person and to be a better one. At that time, I saw one of my friends backpacking somewhere in Asia. That gave me an idea to go backpacking, so I could challenge myself and meet people around the world. I always wanted to understand more about people and their cultures, and see the other side of the world. And backpacking was always on my to-do list, as this was something I hoped I could finish one day. With graduating from uni soon and figuring out my future, I thought I needed the trip. I also wanted to finish this before getting into the real world, as this was the only time I would be this free. And I thought the moment was perfect, as this was my first time, I actually wanted to be more open and meet people. Perhaps the years of silence in seminars and the breakthrough just a few months ago gave me the courage and confidence to do so. The next few days, after conducting some research, I decided to go to Croatia. This is somewhere I’m not so familiar with, and I have never been to Southern or Eastern Europe. I also didn’t want to go somewhere too far, as it’d be quite pricey, especially since I just went to Malta with some friends less than a month ago. I then booked myself flight tickets and hostels, and started my trip in less than a week. I’m not someone who likes quick plans or unexpected things like that. But I thought if I didn’t go at that time, I’d never have the courage to do so. So, without any good plans or knowledge about Croatia, I went on this trip. Before the trip, I set myself three goals to achieve: meet and talk to people, never ask ChatGPT for help, and stop browsing my phone very often so I can actually see all the nature. To achieve those, before I boarded my flight from London to Zagreb, I replied to two girls on the app (there’s an app for hostel bookings). I was very nervous when I hit send. Luckily, they replied to me very soon, and we organised a meetup in our hostel once we arrived. And it turned out, they are kind people. We had Maccies that night, and we played some beer pong at our hostel when we were back. Talking about the hostel, that hostel was amazing. Everyone I met at the hostel is very nice. I met many new friends with whom I chatted about many things. But I have to admit that the hostel is a very party hostel. They organise a pub crawl five nights a week, with pres at the hostel and finishing the night at a local club (I even joked about this being just like a freshers’ week to an English girl). Anyway, the next day we went to the lake together with a very nice guy. We swam and chilled there for the afternoon. It was a good afternoon with sunshine and an amazing view. That night, and the night after, we did the pub crawl. I enjoyed the pubs and karaoke. (Well, for both nights one of the girls of my “group” got drunk at pres but still made her way out, making the staff from the hostel send her back. She went crazy both nights when she was so drunk. That wasn’t a good part.) But I didn’t enjoy the club so much. In Croatia, everyone can smoke in the club, and this just made the club so smoky that my eyes were hurt. Also, on the first night in the club, a guy from somewhere in South America consistently asked me if he could kiss me. That part of the story wasn’t a good experience, though. But I had to highlight the second night of the pub crawl. That night, in pres at our hostel, they were having a national night. They asked us to sing our national anthem to get free extra drinks, which were not included with our wristband. Till now, I still couldn’t believe I did that. I was always a very, very shy girl. And, at that time, with a bit tipsy, and my will to share the song so badly with the world, I did that. Before I actually sang the song, I even told them this was “illegal”, and I asked my new friends to record for me. In this probably once-in-a-lifetime chance, I sang the “Glory to Hong Kong” in somewhere I wasn’t familiar with, to people I barely knew. Wow. I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t do it, and I was so proud of myself. At that time, I knew I probably wasn’t the girl who was afraid of seminars anymore. I was different. Even in an unfamiliar environment, I could express myself, do something brave, and even enjoy my time there. However, good times went fast. The next day of that crazy night, I took the bus to Korenica. There I stayed for two nights and visited the stunning Plitvice Lakes. I met many Aussies (I bet more than half of the people at my hostel were Aussies), shared a room with two Aussie girls, who joked that we had a private room, since the room was for six. And eventually, after getting out of the van from our hostel, I could only find one from my hostel at the entrance of the Plitvice Lakes. So, we did the walk and shared some good times together. The hostel itself was not as much fun as the one in Zagreb, probably because Korenica is a town far from everywhere, but I’m grateful to have met some nice people and could do the quiz with them. My final stop was Split. Everyone knows Split is a party city with great nightlife, but I didn’t quite enjoy my time there. The first night was great. I caught up with a girl whom I met at the hostel in Zagreb, who that night was on her last night in Croatia. The second morning was my nightmare. That day, I joined an island-hopping tour, hoping to see three islands and have a nice burger on the boat for lunch, as well as enjoy the sea. But not long after I got on the boat, when we were still at the pier, it was first raining, then the hailstorm. At that time, I was on the upper deck of the boat with a half-opened top. We couldn’t go downstairs, as the boat was shaking so badly, because the wind was too strong. When the hailstorm hit, I could only use my small backpack to cover myself without a route to escape. Despite that, I was still very hurt and got many bruises after the chaos. The whole time when the hailstorm hit, all I was thinking was: This is how those accidents we often see on the news happened. Luckily, after suffering for about ten minutes, we managed to go down into the cabin. We were later told to get off the boat, but we were asked to be back in two hours. With everything that happened on the boat and witnessing the city being destroyed, I chose not to go back after my shower. I went to the beach for the afternoon, then I had a night out with some random people I met from the app. However, this time, the people weren’t as nice. When we were at the club, a guy kept asking me to do things with him. Then I wanted to go back, and he sent me back to my hostel. On the way or at the common, he still kept asking me about that. I mean, that was the hostel where you shared a room with many different people. I don’t know. Maybe because I wasn’t that drunk, and at least I wouldn’t let myself get drunk in a foreign country alone. At the pub crawl, I actually asked for just orange juice for some, although everything is included with our ticket. That day was memorable, but not fun at all. Luckily, I met another girl from the app the next day, and we went to an island for a day trip. That day was peaceful, lots of chatting, with some swimming and sunbathing. Although we trusted the Google map, which guided us to walk on rocky mountains and highways to the beach, the day was great overall. And the day after was my last day in Croatia. After spending some time in a city near Split, I took the flight back to London, and my trip ended there. After all, I think I achieved every goal I set for myself. I met so many different people along the trip. While some might stay and remain as your friends, you know, for some, you probably won’t meet again. And this is just a mimic of life. Some people stay, some go, and no one can stay forever with you. You might have some great moments and create great memories within that short period of time, but none of them last forever. People just stop by your life journey, no matter how long or short that will be; they won’t be with you forever. What makes backpacking so great is that you can meet so many different people, and even though they might not stay long with you, you enjoy the time at the moment with them. This makes you feel like you’re travelling alone, but you’re not all alone. You can have your pace and go somewhere you really want to, but you get some company with you. You also get to learn about different worlds and the lives of others, which broaden your horizon. To me, backpacking is fantastic. Of course, I’ll have some good and bad moments. But this is life. Sometimes we enjoy, we achieve, while sometimes we grow, we learn. And when you actually stop browsing your phone for a moment, disconnect from the internet for a while, you can see many things that you aren’t aware of. You can spend some more quality time with the people you like, and you get to see more things in the world, nature, people, and lives. I’m glad I have this chance to go on this trip, and I learnt so much from it. From the experience, from the people I met, from the places I visited. And I’m grateful to meet many lovely people along the way. Without those people, my trip wouldn’t be so great, and I probably wouldn’t have these unforgettable moments. Although the trip ended, what I learnt from the trip will stay with me forever. This is just like my uni era. I might have graduated from uni, but what I learnt from uni will stay with me forever and empower my future. 

I still couldn’t believe everything had happened in just more than a thousand days. A lot happened, making me feel the journey was a long haul, but it was just a short period of time when I looked at the calendar. From the first day I arrived in York to the day I got my certificate, it was only 1045 days. But everything that happened seemed to tell me it was like a decade. When I started writing my uni journey, thinking about each topic, I knew it’d be long, but I never thought that it’d be this long, breaking the 10,000-milestone. I hope anyone (including my future self) who is reading till this point won’t find this long and dull. I tried to condense my yap for a bit, but the number of things that happened doesn’t allow me to. I’m so sorry about that. Although so many weird and unique things happened over these three years, I have to make it clear that I’m not special. I’m just a random kid, like everyone, who enjoyed every night out, was involved in some complicated relationships, hung out with friends, worked and volunteered during my uni time, and travelled cities for concerts. I guess I’m just a lucky kid to have had all these precious miraculous moments at uni. Of course, these were also due to all the lovely people around me, who left these memories with me. Weeks ago, on the way to dodgeball, my teammate who drove me there and I talked about graduation. When I told her I feel like I have changed and become a different person, she told me I am more confident now and no longer shy as I was. She was very impressed when I told her that I finally engaged in seminars and actually enjoyed seminars, and I went backpacking and met many people. I bet the girl back in 2022 wouldn’t even think that one day she would accomplish all these. But life is full of the unknown, and this is what makes life interesting. Sometimes it may land you a surprise with great joy, while sometimes it may land you a disaster with an existential crisis. About a year ago, when I was hanging out with my friends, I met a guy who works at uni and is interested in Chinese history and its culture. (Basically, we first saw each other at the Minster Gate Bookshop, then we saw each other at the Waterstone. As we were looking at the same shelf of books, we knew we were both looking at the same kind of things.) We had a little interesting conversation, and later he gave me a book that he had finished. Life is like that sometimes. You’ll never know what you might encounter next. We can never predict the future, and we can never go back to the past. The best we can do is to treasure the present moment as it is, and not let your future self regret it. 

I used to think I was a very different person in class, and this was what made me never want to engage. I thought whoever was in the same group with me was too miserable, since they’d never learn anything from me. But gradually, I realised that being a different one doesn’t mean it’s a disaster. If I were not a girl from Hong Kong, my exposure to the world would probably be different. In one of the seminars on Middle East Politics, one of my classmates asked a question, making me want to speak up so badly. That probably was the reason that triggered me to speak up in the next semester. He asked, if people from Saudi Arabia are suffering, why don’t they leave? If I had never experienced 2019 as a Hong Konger, I probably wouldn’t see this question as a problem. But, as lots of my friends from Hong Kong all know, I think, it’s not always easy to leave. Moving from one place to another means leaving everything behind, knowing that you might have no chance to see the people and places again, and it hits harder if you were born and bred there. For the freedom we pursue, does it make sense to leave everything behind but not try to save it, even if that’s your motherland? I have no answer to that, but perhaps I’d made my choice. Also, don’t forget that you’re never a local in the new place, never be fluent in their language. Parents are getting older year by year, yet you have little time to spend with them once every several years (I hadn’t seen my dad for 3 years and my mum for 2 years, before they came to see me at my graduation). Friends are all over, and you don’t know if you’ll see them once again in your lifetime. Oh, most importantly, finance is the biggest concern. Don’t you know immigration costs a lot? I wanted to say that all out loud in the room at that time, but I didn’t, as I was so afraid. Despite that, I don’t hate being different. Being a Hong Konger made me experience unique life lessons, allowing me to understand the world from a different angle. I might not be as reserved, polite and kind as Brits, but I do adore my blunt, straightforward and direct. At least I bet when the seminar was small, that I either had to ask everyone or my lecturer to get out for me, no one here would crawl under the desk to get a seat. I might not be doing it the way most people do, but I don’t think that’s a problem. At least I solved the problem most efficiently. If I hadn’t grown up in a place that encouraged smart tactics, I don’t think I would do something like that. And because I didn’t grow up here, I won’t fantasise about British cuisine, as I have had so much good food since I was born. I would be illusioned by baked beans and peas and thought they were the best in the world, if I grew up here (I guess when I read this after ten years, I still hate them so much. Also, don’t ask me how I could survive without liking them in this country. I’ve had enough commentary on this matter from your fellow Brits.) It doesn’t mean the UK is all bad, though. I still admire some of the British politeness and friendliness (Not over-excessively. They can be fake sometimes), and I’m still navigating the way to keep my genuine self while trying to be a person with “better” manners. 

A few days ago, when I did my grocery shopping, I said “Cheers” after paying for my food. The staff replied to me, “Ta”. If you’d asked that girl in 2022, she would probably have no clue what this conversation was (They both mean thank you, right?). At that time, she never thought the glottal stop was real, vivid everywhere. “A bottle of water” was something she watched from those clips online, but she never thought it’d be her everyday English listening. She didn’t know the loo was the toilet, she didn’t know about mate or pal. She thought “You alright?” was actually a question rather than a simple hello. She’d pronounce Derby as “Der-by” but not “Da-by”, Durham as “Dur-ham” but not “Dur-um”, and the same goes for Nottingham or Birmingham. Leccy, telly, scran, and some more were mysterious words for her. But, at least, that girl now has her railcard. King’s Cross isn’t unfamiliar to her anymore, as she knows it quite well after taking trains from and to there many times. She is different, even as a person. She’s created many beautiful moments here in York and elsewhere in the UK. She’s found herself another place where she calls home, where it’s filled with all the people she loves.