Welcome to our Spotlight series, where we will draw attention each week to an area of student life that we believe deserves your focus. This could be anything from universal student experiences, mental health discussions, or niche areas of student life that affect more of us than we realise.
This week, I wanted to start with something close to my heart (and the hearts of many others) – the end of a year abroad.
Only last week, I finished my course in Tallinn, Estonia, studying Russian. The beginners’ Russian year abroad is closely structured, which meant that I went, with the rest of my cohort, to a pre-designed course, tailored to Oxford students. This allowed us to grow far closer than we did during our first year, whilst also allowing time to nurture and evolve our Russian skills.
Before I embarked on my travels, I remember being truly terrified of being so far from home and only knowing people on my course by their names. I would be away from friends and family, with my support system being ripped out from beneath me. Whilst everyone else had seemed outwardly excited, I’m sure that this feeling of genuine fear is a far more common one than I had anticipated.
We all set out on the course with high hopes, most of us living with host families and expecting to immerse ourselves in Russian regularly. Certainly, there were opportunities, if you knew the right places to look for them. However, until the end of the current war in Ukraine, a lack of proper exposure to the Russian language is difficult to obtain, especially in a country, where only 50% speak the language, and the majority can speak English.
That being said, the classes we attended every day were solely in Russian, and it would be untrue to say that our skills didn’t grow rapidly. I will always be proud of our stark transition from the fear of not passing prelims to suddenly having regular debates in the target language, all within the span of one year. It became an excellent way to measure our admirable progress in such a short space of time.
Moreover, we grew closer as a cohort. The opportunity to finally surround myself with people with such a passion for languages, is one of the most rewarding things about coming to Oxford. For instance, I learnt about linguistics through conversations outside of our classes. Being able to learn so much through sharing knowledge with those around you is one of the most beautiful ways to broaden your horizons.
Whilst we may have come to Tallinn sharing nothing other than our course and passion for languages, we left with so many collective memories that I shall cherish for an eternity. Travelling with my cohort formed one of the best parts of my year abroad experience, and something that I had underestimated before setting out. You are all very much in the same boat, and that’s not something that should be taken for granted.
So how are you meant to feel when you complete your Year Abroad?
There’s never one easy answer, but I certainly feel as though everyone else’s feelings were more closely aligned to one another than my own. After seven months in one place, there was an anticipation from everyone to leave, which I understood. We’d outgrown the school we were studying at, and had become tired and weary. Our final term began in temperatures of -18˚C and ended in the return of the sun and flowers.
However, when I flew out of Tallinn, I was not simply teary, but actually cried on the flight. That city, one I’d never been to before, had become my home. I had lived in two different apartments, knew the districts of the city inside out, knew exactly which buses were best to get for which direction (no longer requiring Google Maps as I once relied upon), and knew which supermarkets had the best deals. Throughout the city exist so many memories, both joyous and supportive, where I experienced this strange chapter of my life.
I’ve been reassured that I can return to the city when I like. It’s not this that concerns me. I’m aware that Tallinn won’t cease to exist, but I’m also aware that life will continue there without me. And I’m aware that, even when I do return, it will be in a different era. Not one where I head to trampoline parks and sea saunas with friends, but perhaps with a future partner or children, leisurely strolling around the Old Town. I won’t be rushing to the pub on a Friday night to see my mates, but rather rushing to check into my hotel, as I become a guest to the city.
A piece of my heart will always be in Tallinn. It was an odd moment from my otherwise stationary life where I developed an obscure relationship to the city. I have currently spent longer in my degree there than in Oxford. And perhaps it isn’t truly the city I will miss (although certainly I will miss Alexander Nevsky Cathedral and the beautiful sunsets), but rather what the city represents.
In Tallinn, I found my feet for the first time. First year had been a complete whirlwind, so it was on my Year Abroad that I truly understood the freedoms of my independence, the limitlessness of my travels and the excitement of youth. I grew more self-assured and confident, and watched as others did the same. There were battles to face, but we conquered them together.
This isn’t supposed to be corny (although I accept that it is). But for those who have had similar experiences, you may have mixed feelings towards the end of such a wonderful episode. I was ready to leave Tallinn. But I also wasn’t ready for it to end. I will always look back on this year so fondly and be so grateful for everyone who made it such an incredible experience, and I hope they look back on it similarly. But I recognise that for now, it’s time to go. And one day, when I return to that beautiful corner of Northern Europe, it’ll be with a smile on my face and a warmth in my heart.