Once upon a time, there was a pretty little girl who was sent to a land far, far away to seek knowledge in a very, very difficult subject with high hopes of bringing prosperity and wealth to her family at least, if not the country.
Having allowances which totalled to less than most of her companion’s who are financially supported by grants, government or private institutions, she did a remarkable job of managing her expenses to be able to travel ever so frequently to London and the occasional Oxford trips.
She attended various student meetings, indulged in intellectual discourse, tea parties, film shootings, and a whole host of other revelries (which had nothing to do with the subject she is doing) rubbing shoulders with famous and, or important people. She had just recently moved into her new home abroad, situated in an excellent location close to the city centre. Her favoured method of unwinding would be sipping Vanilla Chai while watching sunset, reading some literary classics while Joe Hisaishi’s music plays in the background.
Throughout her time abroad, she made a small circle of close friends, who formed her little support team away from home. Having brought up by hand by her somewhat strict mother, politeness and speaking well was second nature. That and her ability to carry an intellectual conversations together with the effort to put on a simple black dress when turning up to formal events gave many the impression that she had an affluent background.
(Truth to be told, watch her Facebook wall and you’ll see a massive list of lame jokes, gibberish jargon, thoroughly dislikes brushing her hair and even burps unembarrassed. The dresses she wore are the ones she has had for years. People don’t really notice her using the same dress repeatedly as she frequently improvises the style she puts them on.)
Shortly just before she was due to return briefly to her homeland, she found that her money has somehow sprouted little feet being everywhere but in her bank account. Her previous landlord has yet to release the previous house’s deposit and her previous house mate has yet to return the utility bill payment refund. Her mother had sent for her a little sum for her to pay the month’s rent, but the transaction has yet to be approved.
Oh, dear! How is she to go round the problem?
The protagonist of the story resorted to emptying her savings account to pay half the month’s rent and with the mighty pen, wrote a little apology letter on the envelope enclosing the cash to be given to her current landlady.
So ladies and gentlemen, my sincerest apologies for not being able to bring back any souvenirs or chocolates. I will do so when I return in my final year. I will try to get a whole box of assorted University of Bath’s merchandise to be distributed and scour some really, really good chocolates (not the sort sold at airports) for my close family and friends. For the time being I’ll make up with some really wicked chocolate cupcake and, or home-made tiramisu (sans alcohol). After all, it’s me and not the souvenirs the reason why everyone wants to hang-out with me, right?