The Inverted Tree.

Every single one of the proposals these guys presented took my essential-fiber-vibrations to a greater level of sensitive resonance (even those who did not speak much about themselves showed deep understanding of what the others were trying to get at). It was extremely comfortable to talk to friendly looking strangers about topics they were already familiar with (no a priori explanations needed, yay!). It really blew my mind that albeit we were all so very different in terms of cultural background, we had each found and learned to love more or less the same authors, books, films, graphic novels, animations, and art pieces throughout the course of our lives. We had therefore achieved an extremely malleable synchronous plateau for thought exchange; our kites had so many different shapes, and patterns, and colors but were bound for the same skies (or Ithaca, to put it in a more poetical sense).

I was particularly touched when one of the girls said she was tired of having to work in order to acquire a more or less reasonable education, considering how humanely impossible it is to fully focus on a subject when you're craving nutrients and your wallet isn't as flexible as your stomach. 

She proposed to start a cultural revolution, and we all agreed to join in with all our hearts.

HALT!

I'm-a drop the cheese whiz down a notch (mind the hyperbolic gap y'all, as my friends back home would tell me whenever I got overexcited) so I'll stop picturing the scene as if it were a pseudo pre-raphaelite mural. No more nakedly pinkish flying babies, if you please. My point is clear, however, when I say I've never learned so much in so little time (queuing for the lunch buffet/toilet was never so illuminating).

I wouldn't have previously thought that young people in the Balkans would have so much in common with us jóvenes latinoamericanos in terms of how they relate to issues of violence, corruption in the government, frustrated aspirations, gang urban sub systems, drug use, street poetics, mood to party, folklore, etc. I guess all cultures of resistance share similar structural conditions (and I intend to read more on that subject for my masters).   

We had various gatherings around the halls of Sheffield's prestigious University, and dined at magnificent almost candle-lit halls with classical portraits of famous British scholars hanging over our heads while discussing Borges, García Márquez, Ishiguro, and Lady Gaga over local wine, roasted veggies, and lasagna. 

For the next couple of days we attended more reunions with our soon-to-be professors, and ex-alumni, and even took a little hiking trip nearby the Peak District National Park, which was lovely, and full of greens, reds, browns and... goats!

In the end I was rather sad to find out most of us were to differ greatly in terms of our chosen pathways (all are to experience studying in 3 different universities according to their academic/location preferences). I will not see most of them until the end of the masters in two years time, but my heart finds solace in the fact that we'll meet again in Poznan for our graduation.

We embraced each other fondly for a final goodbye, for some were about to take flight... literally, to get to their respective universities in either Mexico, Argentina, Italy, Portugal, Spain, Poland, France, Canada or right there in the UK. I was bound for St. Andrews, the oldest university in the whole of Scotland... where the official national animal is no other than the UNICORN (kickass or what?).

I went to my room, bought a train ticket to Edinburgh on the internet with the help of my dearest friend Ju-ju and went to sleep shortly after, stuffing the pillow with infinite feathers of translucent nostalgia.