Exactly a week ago, I wrote about the slow process of arriving in Liverpool. At this, point we seem to have arrived. Only one student tested positive for Covid before leaving the States, and none have failed their arrival tests. We’re finding our feet, learning how to get places, and more or less adjusted to the local time.
Last night we had our first class session in one of the huge old restored buildings on the downtown campus, with a beautiful sunset over the Liverpool skyline outside the enormous windows. It’s always reassuring to find myself teaching or learning in a classroom. Those roles are familiar to me; classrooms are home. (I’m not sure the students would agree with me.)
Yesterday afternoon, before heading downtown for class, I was walking back from the grocery store to my literal home here in Liverpool, a cozy little flat on the main campus. Suddenly my eye was caught by a frenzy of motion from the shuttle bus stopped at the curb: a number of my students were in the front window of the upper deck, waving to me like crazy.
I was home before I got there. I had just a little ways to go before I reached my building (it’s the red brick building on the righthand side of the picture above) and was eager to put down my load, but there’s something very heartening about a familiar face in a strange city.