I know I meant to write about break, especially after that rather exhausting entry on Easter. But everything’s currently on hold for exams, and for exam anti-stress measures in between studying.
I had my first exam yesterday: Irish studies. The exams here are all essays, written in books separate from the exam questions. I am eternally grateful to my stepmother for forcing me to learn the standard, five-paragraph essay!
Exams here are held in exam halls. I don’t know if they have these anywhere in the States. At Wilson, we just go to class as usual, the prof hands out the questions, and we do them in the time allotted to the class (1 ½ hours). Here, students from many different classes all go to a large place at a listed time – Friday, it was the PEC, the gym – where they find their letter and number on a desk in a room full of little school desks in rows. It was frightening, in a way, but not as bad as I thought it would be. The mixed groups and impersonal setting, different from the actual classroom, made, I thought, for a clearer atmosphere in which to think. And we got 2 hours. In an essay exam, an extra half-hour can make all the difference.
I think I did well – I hope I did well. We’ll see.
To get to the PEC, you walk through Botanic Gardens, and past the Rose Garden. I was excited to see that the roses are beginning to bloom. There were a couple dozen out so far, and many more in buds, in yellows, whites, pinks, and creamy flame oranges. Here are a few, for you: though I can't take photos of the Ulster weather, of the light sun and rain - or of the gardeners, photographers, and schoolchildren that appear and disappear in the gardens here. They're like fairies in baggy jumpers.
Friday night, Maureen and I went to the Queen’s film theatre to see a rather dramatic documentary about an Irish dance competition. It was fun. I know that dance is a lot of work, and that a lot of people never have the chance, physically or financially, to do it at a professional level (me among them), but I didn’t realize just how extreme Irish dance – any kind of dance, once it becomes competitive – can be. I’ll stick to being an amateur, go raibh maith agaibh!
And It Just Keeps On Ending...
I've now completed my second exam, and yes, I'm still terrified. I've never seriously doubted my ability to pass a class to this extent... I seriously fear for my future. It doesn't help that I've found it impossible to look for work from across the Atlantic, so I don't know what I'm going to do when I get home this summer. It's a pity - I was doing so well, health-wise, in control of my diet, but now the stress-sickness has hit again. I've only been able to eat one meal today. But it hasn't stopped me from "experiencing life abroad," or however you'd put it: I did have Sunday lunch and tea at a kind church member's house (more about Sunday later! It was exciting - there was more than tea) which - though I spent a few hours not studying - is probably the only reason I haven't had a major breakdown during exam week, and why I haven't spent the equivalent amount of time staring at the wall and having small, silent panic attacks.
All I'm praying for, for myself, is that I pass my classes with high enough grades to keep my GPA at scholarship level. If I can graduate college, it will be a miracle, and it will prove to me once and for all that I can do anything. If I drop out of college, I don't know what will happen. I don't know what will happen inside my head. Anyway... I'll end there. You're all probably sick of being my accidental therapists!
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