Memories of the Big Blue Bus

Before I dive into this post, I first want to wish my Mutti alles Gute zum Geburtstag (in other words, happy birthday, Mom)!  I wish I could be there with you to do some celebratory birthday yoga, but I'm sending you hugs, kisses, and virtual flowers from Austria.  Maybe later I'll break out into song ala "The Sound of Music" and dedicate it to you 8-)

Maria and the von Trapp children performing a rousing rendition of the birthday song for Mutti.

Seventeen years ago, I embarked on a very long, epic journey into academia.  Jealous of the awesome things my older brother got to do in school, I wanted to skip right past kindergarten and first grade and instead begin my studies with my brother's very idolized second grade teacher.  Much to my chagrin, I was forced to complete these first two steps in order to reach my ultimate goal of second grade (thankfully, I've since developed higher aspirations).  Nevertheless, my very first day of school was wrought with excitement as I nervously waited at the bus stop, anxious to see the big yellow bus come rumbling around the corner.  I waited. And waited.  Sadly, it never came that first day.  What did arrive, however, was Mom's big blue "bus," cheerful and familiar as it whisked me away to school.  I don't remember what I learned that first day of kindergarten, but I'll never forget the optimism and encouragement of my family as plans were altered and what should have been a perfect day instead took a different turn.  Sure there was no yellow bus that day, but there were Mom's perfect, homemade chocolate chip cookies to welcome my brother and me home - a tradition my Mom kept every year on the first day of school, even when I went away to college.

Yesterday evening I continued along my journey of scholarship as I formally began my graduate courses.  There was no yellow or blue bus to take me, but there was that same encouragement from my family, albeit from halfway around the world.  Because of them I made it to kindergarten the first day, and because of their support I made it all the way to graduate school. Years have passed since that excited little girl first stood at the bus stop, but each new first day of school is still a day of excitement and hope.  Only this year, there were no chocolate chip cookies to welcome me home.

Sara and Friedrich on the first day of school.

Still, despite the lack of cookies, my first day of grad school went very well.  Nervous as I was about delving into an area of study previously unfamiliar to me, the class was not as terrifying as I imagined.  The professor, a native Austrian, is actually quite friendly and took the initiative to learn our names and ask about our backgrounds (which, as I hear, is very uncommon for European professors to do).  The class includes all the members of my cohort as well as regular students at the university.  Although the class is four hours long, we do get a small break in the middle, and I found myself enthralled by the professor's teaching the entire time as well.  He encourages class participation (it's a percentage of our overall grade, in fact) and is fond of discussion, often asking questions and urging us to ask questions, too.  In spite of my meager background in I.R., I had no difficulties following along, and actually found the subject matter to be very, very interesting.

Who knows - maybe I'm cut out for this I.R. thing after all. 8-)