This morning, I woke to the winning combination of rain/snow/sleet. And unlike other mornings of this semester, I could not just snuggle deeper into my cotton candy combo of pink duvet and blue sheets. No, today was when it all begins.
Today was the first day of modules. Forget classes, or courses, or even lectures; modules are the wave of future. Every time I see that word, I suddenly picture myself saying, “More tea with your modules?” in a British accent.
The process to discovering your schedule is quite different from anything I am used to. At Baylor, I sign up for courses online with the knowledge of when, where, and how long they are. Then, once I sign up for the desired classes, Bearweb will provide me with a nice calendar with the day, time, and place of my class. Basically, you could say that we are fed our schedules with a soft chewy spoon so we don’t hurt our poor little mouths. It also probably exists to limit American students’ reasons to skip class. [I once “had a friend” who told a professor she couldn’t come to class because she couldn’t find her glasses, and therefore couldn’t see to walk to class. The professor kindly neglected to respond that there was a blind person who came to class every day, and that person did fine without working eyeballs.]
But here, in classic Scottish tradition, you work for your schedule. Give it to you? Please. Don’t be so naive. So, I know my modules. I know when they begin. But I have no idea where they are, what day they are, or even how long they last. Perfect.
It was Sunday evening, and no one else has their information either. I would imagine this would cause a massive kerfuffle amongst my peers back home, but here, no one is freaking out. In fact, they are all going out to the pubs to watch a rugby match…
Eventually, after bugging a few of the full-timers (the key is to ask more than one person so you spread your demanding presence out more thinly), I was guided to a hidden link on a certain obscure page, put in the modules, and viola! A schedule appears. Aaaaand it is rather difficult to read. I feel like William Wallace fighting King Longshanks. And we all know how that story ends…
Apparently, this week of modules is similar to shopping for clothes. Try it on for a bit, wiggle your bum, sit down, then up, then down…if it fits, then great. If not, well, there are more fish in the sea. I heard one of them was God, Sex, and Money from the College of Divinity. Might sit in that particular class, just because I heard the professor squirts students with a water nerf gun whilst in his tweed jacket.
Welcome to St. Andrews.