It seems that there is little daring in a pure critique of Advent. There are many well-deserved and necessary sieges that have yet to laid, and it would be deceptive to not mention the poverty of institutional lucidity in much of the old world when the Advent tradition is considered. The peril of a reductive view is of course its betrayal of faith. Faith in the intellectual prowess and humanity of an audience to understand a deeper complexity. I will therefore dare to venture beyond a critique.

For most of us abroad, the fourth Advent represents returning home. The pre-reading-week-December futile attempts at prioritizing a few holiday songs in a Spotify-rotation fall far short of any redeeming notions of a joyous time before returning home. Any outer-worldly spirit is only called upon in the rapacious struggle to finish the last essays and to study for the last exams. I had
purchased a candle counting down the 24 days until Christmas, but within a week any hopes of burning it even a third way down had been blown out. By early December I had already begun working the skeleton shifts at the library, and any time for yuletide pertained only to a few glances at the garlands in the dining hall. On an American college campus there is a multiplicity of Holiday traditions being celebrated in various decentralized and institutionalized contexts. The culmination at Yale is a Holiday Dinner where first-years partake in the most ostentatious and lavish spectacle. A shockingly, almost grotesque display of wealth being paraded in a procession as if the stretchers of food were palanquins in a Roman triumph carrying in their excess the very source of excellence and glory. I doubt it. I, as a junior, partook in a more enjoyable Holiday Dinner with my residential college.

There is little time in these weeks to feel the longing for home, and it comes upon one suddenly. Engulfing you in the realization that soon, soon the exams are all over and you will be sitting on a flight bound for home. It is best kept at bay, sacrificed on the altar of the scholar, but it springs fourth between the penultimate and the last exam. It seems almost futile to study and you just want to go home.

This year I heard a few Scandinavians argue in different tongues at the check-in at Newark Airport and it made me so happy, because it meant I was just about to be home. It did not even disappointment me that I returned to rain instead of snow. What did it matter? I was home.

Specifically, the fourth Advent precisely represents a return home that is starker in its contrast than any other times one might be fortunate enough to be homebound. The precipice of the holidays force you to be confronted most drastically with your nature as an emigrant. Largely, the last December Advent and the Christmastide is a going home for culture. Not unequivocally of course, but for some of us, we return for Christmas. This is distinct from the return for work, a return for a birthday or a return for summertime. It is a deeper and more heartfelt return. I suspect that many novices would understand this as a unequivocally joyous experience, but I would decry that it is exactly this return out of all returns that makes you confront the ways that you have changed. I would never proclaim to have any elucidating insight, but this year, when I returned home for the third time for Christmas, I have the clearest grasping of the biface of return.

You are confronted with your departure as you return home. When you venture aboard as a vacationer, you can experience a place and a culture with the distance of an observer. You change only superficially. When you move abroad and uproot your life to study in a foreign country, you force yourself into metamorphosis. Your very essence transforms. The luxury of the sojourner is the bliss of their ignorance and that protection from vulnerability that international students lack. It is a tenant of the experience that you reject the unipolarity and monoculture of the place you departed from. Should this be mourned? Absolutely not. For most of us the metamorphosis is an evolution.

The embeddedness of life abroad soothes the experience of being changed, but the return in December confronts you drastically with how you have changed. The stasis home becomes the introspective lens for understanding your own transformation.

The reactionary impulse is often to reject the stasis. The problems in their infinitude protrude most distinctly. They are so jarring and penetrating. Why? I have come to understand that the discomfort arises as many things that were understood as good are revealed as evil. The abomination of the Antichrist is the portrayal of evil as good.

In most logical value systems, it is often impossible to reconcile old and new upon return. You diverge as you go abroad. It is as if you bilocate. Easily observed for example linguistically, but imperceptible in the inarticulable minuteness of how character and personhood change. It is inexplicable to family and friends. Any attempts at verbalizing the depths of this leaves listeners dumbfounded and coherent phrases describing it deceives the gravity of the experience.

As I wrote in the beginning of my text, the easiest deductions from this experience are narrow-minded and reductive in nature. Initially, I attempted to integrate the dualism of my expatriate and vernacular identity. This leads however to a Faustian bargain, where one must trade a wholeness for the comfort of simplicity. Such integrations of self where all sides square are idealistic. You insult your own intellect and the complexity of culture by embarking on this path.

At one point you were confronted with the imaginative nature of the holidays’ mysticism. The revelation of the humanity of a Santa Claus or a similar shattering experience of a no longer whole cosmology. You lose a certain innocence. We would however pity those who continued to live in a permanent imaginative state. We all seek enlightenment and truth. Going abroad you lose the same innocence; a curtain of unity is broken. When the chasm is crossed you can reject that you were ever a child, that you were ever ignorant. An alternative is the holding of contradicting truths.

When I went to my local municipality library before I moved abroad, I took excessive and vain pride in only borrowing inter-library loans. Only English literature was fine enough for my taste. Now when I return, I exclusively want to read Danish books during my break. Blixen, Pontoppidan, and Kierkegaard. Such are the incongruities and idiosyncratic nature of the December return. Returning home becomes rejuvenating only when you allow yourself to exist in a dualism. Paying homage at the same time, both to who you were and who you have become.

I encourage you, those who are so lucky to return this winter break, to revel in being at home. At home in contradicting comfort.

By Carl Bager

” I’d be very happy to [...] share what I know about this vaguely odd, but quite pleasant, place.”

These words were written to me in an email response to a request to meet with a fellow at my college at the beginning of this academic year (23/24). That college is Christ’s College Cambridge where I am studying for an MPhil* in Linguistics.

*(an unnecessary, fancy Cambridge term for a Master’s degree)

Having spent 3 months here, I believe I have to agree with the assessment stated above. Odd, for more severe reasons like the fact that I live in what is essentially a gated community (in a brand new building no less—my cohort is the first one to stay in it for a whole year) while people are sleeping rough just outside the walls and for less severe ones like biking being pretty much sown into the fabric of the student culture but the city council having still not managed to pave a single bike lane. It is odd because people here study wildly disparate things from how a specific species of fish navigate 3-dimensional space to how Thai native speakers learn grammatical future expressions in English. And because people dress up— many of them several time per week— donning long cloaks that flow after them as they walk, with an unmistakable sense of conviction, to formal hall as their heels clack intently on the tiled paths.

Cambridge and Christ’s College are also pleasant because the people here are that way. And a place like this really is its people. As a graduate student** there is no better place to experience this than at wellbeing coffee Sunday mornings and at grad hall on Tuesday nights. At wellbeing coffee, the MCR*** (Middle Combination Room) invites the graduate students at Christ’s for coffee at a new café in town every week before migrating to one of the college gardens until everyone has had their fill of social interaction after which the crowd disperses. Just last week I spent this time chatting to a PhD student about their research on the skull-formation in water- and land-fowl and how this is an interesting thing to study for evolutionary purposes because the skull is a great source of analysable features and because some of the earliest samples of bird-fossils found were actually heads!

**“graduate” meaning simply any student who has completed a bachelor’s degree—i. e. both Master’s and PhD students

***Middle Combination Room”—it is a rather complicated term that refers to several distinct but related entities but which here refers to the committee of graduate students who organise events for and works to maintain a healthy graduate student community

Grad halls are very similar to wellbeing coffee in this respect. Grad halls are formals**** which are only available to graduate students, and which take place every Tuesday evening. Grad halls also have the added feature of not requiring gowns so that people can come straight from the lab if they need to. I don’t know of many (if any?) other colleges that has a similar arrangement. At Christ’s the grad halls are even subsidised by the MCR which means that the price of attending is reduced from £12.20 to £8. Grad halls are consistently a highlight of my week. It is the perfect opportunity to catch up with friends that you don’t normally run into during the week. And while formal food is often a topic of discussion for many Cambridge students, the formal food at Christ’s is quite good compared to many other colleges. And the MCR also provides port—a Cambridge staple—at the end of each grad hall which often only serves to improve the flow and depth as well as the duration of the conversations had there.

****3-course dinners in the formal hall

There are also certain undeniable perks of studying at a Cambridge College. It never seizes to amaze me the way that the bustle of the busy towns yields to the walls that surround the college as you enter First Court through the Great Gate. The sound of the outside world simply melts away. And that is despite the fact that Christ’s is located in one of the busiest areas of the town. The silence is almost deafening now during the break, though, because most of the undergrads have left along with many of the postgrads. The weekends are now merely busy compared to term time where navigating the streets on the weekend can make you feel like a fish in a barrel. On weekdays during the break, the whole place feels like a ghost town. This however leaves us “remainers” with plenty of elbow room when going to places like the Cambridge Market Square at the center of town which is a nice place to hang out, get lunch or pick up fresh produce, dried snacks or tea, or even second-hand books. Now, the recently added festive lights bring an added sense of holiday cheer to this central hub for when you openly lament to your friends the fact that you still have to do work even though the street musician singing “Last Christmas” in the distance seems to clearly indicate that you should be doing no such thing.

Fortunately, quite a few grad students have chosen to remain at the college over the break, so the embers of the MCR are kept alive even though the town’s pace is slowed down significantly. We even have three grad halls in December, where the increase in the proportion of Christmas sweaters to non-festive attire seems, at least to me, to be statistically significant. With the reduced academic pressure, my friends and I are also taking the opportunity to do more family-style cooking which is not only a great way to hang out and a great opportunity to expand and strengthen your circle of friends, but also a great way to feel less guilty about your spending (because Cambridge prices are intense!)

Having done my undergraduate degree in the UK, at Lancaster University, my experience has certainly been that the student Christmas experience is very different in the two places. The college system in Cambridge fosters such a tight community here which was not present to nearly the same extent in Lancaster. While I had a solid handful of friends in Lancaster, my support network in Cambridge is vastly larger, and while a significant proportion of my friends here are still going home for the holidays as was the case in Lancaster, the fact that my total number of friends here is larger means that the number of people making it worthwhile to stick around during the break is that much larger too—which is ideal when I am only here for a year and appreciate having reasons to stay and make the most of my limited time here.

Marius Dreijer is a currently studying a Masters in linguistics at Cambridge University

Surrounded by les lumières de Noël and fuelled by vin chaud, croissants, and coffee, December in Reims is magnifique. Or at least it has been the times I have dared to peek out into the real world, after being locked away in the library for 8+ hours. As I am finishing up my first semester at Sciences Po in Reims, also know as the “city of kings” or the Champagne capital of France, I have seen Reims transform into a true Christmas city. With its medieval French charm, Reims during the December is the host of France's third-largest Christmas market (very impressive I know). And even though my Danish threshold for hygge is quite high, strolling by the wooden stands with a couple friends after a full day of studying, is very hyggeligt. It also helps that mulled wine is excellent for combatting the cold, relieving academic stress, and reinstalling some of the Christmas spirit exam season has stripped away.

True to the Sciences Po spirit, I entered December with the annual Winter Gala at a local Champagne house. On a glorious Thursday it was also the night before I had an Anthropology of the Enlightenment test and my Applied Maths final. Whether waltzing through a Champagne house at a gala is a legitimate extracurricular activity during exam season, is debatable. Nevertheless, I believe my fairly creative interpretation of Hume, Rousseau, and Condillac, likely had more to do with the Champagne and sleep deprivation than optimal preparation. With an intense workload consisting of 24 to 27 hours of lectures and seminars every week, 200+ pages of mandatory reading, tests, presentations, and way more ECTS points than necessary, I have come to the harsh realisation that it is impossible to do everything at Sciences Po if I want to leave my apartment and also get more than 3 hours of sleep. The learning curve for adjusting to student life at Sciences Po has been steep, but looking back I am very happy I have said yes to as many opportunities as I have. I am honestly quite surprised that I have had time to not only visit our wonderful president Felice in Dublin, but also go to Amsterdam with 3 good friends, spend a night in Brussels, visit Paris, and somehow also be a part of the executive team of the debate union and going to a debate tournament at Oxford. I am a little surprised that I have survived this semester (knock on wood that I will survive finals as well), while somewhat preserving my mental sanity. But I like the fast pace here and although I have never been busier and more exhausted in my life, I feel very fulfilled.

Despite how much I might seem to avoid it, 75% of my December in Reims has been spent at the library or walking to and from the campus’ coffee machine where coffee is only 50 cents. While the libraries were only half-full 80% of this semester, the occupancy has increased exponentially as finals week approaches rapidly, and they have been packed to the brim the last weeks. This means that many of us have had to seek alternatives in the cafés of Reims. However, with three other universities in Reims, and a student population of 35.000, we seem to outnumber the capacity of the otherwise cosy cafés here. But a filled library has not been the only barrier to staying at campus. If the champagne, croissants, or gala has not convinced you that I am truly getting the French experience, then picture this: It is 8 in the morning, and I have my last history seminar of the year. I slept through my alarm, so my roomie woke me up 20 min before class, but I managed to be a campus 7 min before my class was supposed to start. At the entrance to Sciences Po I am greeted by a barricade of garbage bins, books, a Christmas tree (!?), and a large group of students standing in front of the big red doors, which is the only way to get into campus. The (mostly French) students had been protesting at campus against Mathias Vicherat, the director of Sciences Po, for hours. This was the 4th protest I have witnessed in my 4 months here but the first time that entrance has been blocked. I was first disappointed that I would miss my last class with prof Gritti, but even more confused about the whole thing because I had woken up 15 min prior to this experience. As me and some of the other students from my seminar stood there in the dark and cold contemplating life, and how/why they put a Christmas tree in the barricade. I am grateful that I am a student at a university where everyone not only cares, but also acts. Discussions are always lively and protests apparently festive, and this was truly a quintessential ´wauw, I am really in France` experience.

While I look forward to not stressing about exams, seeing my mom’s new dog in two weeks, and reading something that is not on the syllabus without feeling guilty, I still think that coming here is a choice that is 100 percent right for me. The past four months in Reims have been beyond demanding but also stimulating and fun. And while December seems a little less cheery as my 4 remaining finals dims the Christmas spirit, I am coping better with the rain and lack of vitamin D, than many of my southern European friends who are not used to only having 5 hours of sunlight. So thanks to Denmark for making me resilient.

Happy 2nd Advent and joyeux Noël from Reims.

By Selma Lyhne,

Vice President of NSAC

The Christmas spirit is finally reaching Dublin, with lights going up around the city center the buskers are exchanging their familiar tunes for careful Christmas songs. Luckily they seem to have collectively decided that Last Christmas is still too soon. One building on Grafton Street is wrapped up in a big bow of lights like a giant present the same way it was last year, which makes the fact that a whole year has passed since my first Dublin winter even more unbelievable. It is once again the time of year when people think of Feliz Navidad when they meet me, the way I know Christmas is coming no matter where I find myself in the world. The Trinity Christmas tree will soon be lit, towering over Front Square as students rush across it to catch their last lecture of the year. December and revision week are upon us.

Michaelmas term has gone by in a flash, it seems not so long ago we were still enjoying the last mild September sun at the tables in front of the Arts block. As the campus is enveloped in darkness, the warmest of the winter months has begun. The French café off Dame Street serves mulled wine under their heat lamps, and student societies rent out top floors of pubs to throw loosely organized Christmas parties. The laughter and pints allow us all a little escape from the pile of essays and coursework that somehow always manages to take us by surprise at the end of each term. Responsibilities ease a little as everyone sways and sings along to the Pogues’ Fairytale of New York, this year with a tad more nostalgia in memory of Shane MacGowan. Some are in Christmas jumpers or hats, while others carry the traces of the last-minute decision to leave their books on their desks for the evening, only to return in the morning with a slight hangover and another happy memory.

Christmas may be just around the corner, but it’s also exam season. Library spots are hard to come by as students feeling the weight of their terrible time management scramble for one of the tables with a socket. Each morning, after a hasty coffee, I take my seat on the second floor of the main library that hasn’t quite managed to wrestle the name Berkeley from the habits of student language even though it was recently de-named. Among the selection of history books and journals organized by era and geographical region, I work my way through the day’s pick and stay each night until my eyes go blurry and the names and events of the Russian Revolution turn into an impenetrable socialist soup.

Most afternoons I give in to the Christmas spirit, and continue my reading at a nearby café over another cup of coffee or a hot chocolate. Around me, the city is alive with protest marches, students staging actions, and the memory of the recent Dublin riots, all of which are discussed in hushed tones at the tables around me. The growing sense that history is unfolding in front of our eyes is hard to shake. But the coming exams draw my focus away from the conversations as I somewhat reluctantly put on my headphones, disappear into the revolutions of the past, and let the tidal wave of current events thunder by.

On Thursday I went to a play that my friend was acting in, It’s Time to Get off the Train, a beautiful two-hour performance written and directed by another student in between lectures. As my friend’s character aged ten years in the span of two hours, moved through insecurities, feelings, Christmas eves, and relationships, we were left to reflect on how quickly December comes around, on how we change, and how much things change around us even if we do nothing at all. On the way, time doesn’t really care if we’re hanging on or if we’re alright, and how that’s scary and comforting at the same time. It was a really good play.

I’m heading home for Christmas soon. But until then, I delight at the thought that the number of people blasting Danish Christmas classics as they walk along the river Liffey in the Dublin rain must be in the single digits. And I’m grateful that I’ve found a city, a university, and a history course that I have no desire to move on from just yet. I’ve brought over the ingredients for risengrød and Christmas cookies, so I can stall my Nordic nostalgia from our cold student house in the Dublin suburbs. I do what I can to fend off the last couple of weeks of longing for Christmas Eve at my grandparents’ with the same familiar traditions. Where my brother, our two cousins and I will always be the kids, no matter how old we get, how far away we move, and how much we change.

By Felice Basbøll,
President of NSAC

15,600,000,000 EUR. That’s the approximate value of scholarships available for international students each year - in Europe alone! These scholarships - needless to say - come in different sizes and shapes, but comparing that to the 6 out of 10 students who abandon their aspirations of studying abroad due to not finding the appropriate funding, one must say that the financial aspect of studying abroad becomes more important than ever.

In fact, many students are each eligible for a whole spectrum of scholarships but miss the opportunity to secure funding due to three primary reasons: 1. Not knowing where to look (The Needle-in-a-Haystack Problem), 2. Not believing enough in oneself (The Self-Doubt Problem), 3. Not planning properly (The Mare's Nest Problem).

The Needle-in-a-Haystack Problem

Often when aspiring students begin to plan their studies abroad, they hit the wall - some harder than others, but you will hit the wall. Finding an education abroad is toilsome and wildering, but also an investment and experience for life. The wall of strenuousness often revolves around financing the “abroadness” of your studies. You may have experienced this yourself:

1. An astounding university abroad: check
2. The perfect fit programme: check
3. Nice travel plans (Including Instagrammable spots secured): check
4. A Duolingo-signup on the language spoken: check
5. Shatterproof mood: check
6. Funding: Uhm no? How do I get this funded...?

You need to find which scholarships are right for you and how to get them. Scholarships are scattered on national, regional, municipal, institutional and private levels. One of the largest centralised platforms for scholarships in Europe (Funded by the European Commission) - ScholarshipPortal.eu - provides a database containing over 700+ scholarships. Here it is possible to filter and compare relevant scholarships based on nationality, background, studies, etc. Another useful source is the  MastersPortal.eu (Same concept, but for Master’s students). If the fit were right, you could make use of the Erasmus+ programme or the Nordplus programme.

On a national level, one is often able to discover several nation-specific centralised databases of both institutional and private scholarships. As an example, one would in Denmark find LegatBogen and in Sweden find Studier.se. In this case - to quote an old saying - Google is your best friend. Scholarships are to be found, they are just one internet search away.

On another note, students in Denmark are more than privileged. If you are eligible for the danish “SU” (“State Educational Support”, A.K.A. “Free money from the government”), you can - in most cases - bring your SU with you abroad. If you are studying a Master’s programme abroad, you can also apply for the “Udlandsstipendium”, which is a government-backed scholarship to pay part of the tuition fee. Lastly, it is also possible for danish students to apply for an “Udlandsstudielån” (A loan for studying abroad). The loan is competitive and - as of writing - fixed to 4% per annum during your studies and 1% per annum afterwards. When evaluating if a loan is necessary, always weigh the pros and cons. My advice would be to use non-binding funds (Similarly to equity when thinking in terms of business), before using binding funds (Similarly to liabilities when thinking in terms of business). Non-binding funds are savings, family-help, non-binding scholarships, donations etc., while binding funds are capital that needs to be repaid, such as loans.

Even if you are not from the lovely, small country of Denmark, the possibilities are endless. Funding your studies is hard and demanding, but once it all settles into place, the effort put into finding, filtering, and applying for scholarships rewards tenfold - if not more. Remember, studying abroad is one of the most remarkable experiences in your lifetime (Read Signe Jensen’s blog post “The invaluable experience of studying your bachelor’s abroad” here or Amalie Dam’s blog post “An unexpected exchange experience” here).

The Self-Doubt Problem

Now you know where to find scholarships - at least some of them. One step closer to entering the doors of the foreign, spectacular university, experiencing a new sense of culture, standing on the shoulders of giants and meeting new companions from all over the world. Nice huh? Studying abroad is great - a lot of students follow that. According to the Institute of International Education, 5.6 million students went overseas away from the home country to study in 2020. If so many students go abroad, all needing to finance it some way or another, why should any of the scholarships choose me? Am I clever enough, special enough and/or lucky enough?

The short answer is yes.

Simply having thoughts about going abroad differentiates you from students staying at home. Studying abroad is not a trouble-free path, compared to enrolling domestically. It shows courage, persistence and an international mindset. In today’s society, we often follow the tracks laid by others, rather than charting a course ourselves. Rooting up, moving away and studying abroad is in some sense the road - to paraphrase Robert Frost - less travelled by. And this makes all the difference.

So if you ever in doubt whether or not you are able to obtain any scholarships, please remember that it is possible - you just need to go out there and apply. As we say in the Nordics, break the Law of Jante. Don’t follow the path of the everyman, create your own path, don’t let a funding-problem be a life-problem.

The Mare's Nest Problem

I hope by now, you know where to find fitting scholarships and to never doubt if you can get any scholarships. Throughout the article, I have kept noting that studying abroad is time-consuming and exigent. Studying abroad comes with its plannings. It is not a one-day project, but often entails several months of research and preparation. Students often make a mare’s nest of planning for studies abroad, thinking that the planning, registration, and logistical processes bear resemblance to studying domestically - this, in most cases, couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Studying abroad often requires a bit more planning. I recommend going over this short list as a guiding light:

1. Why study abroad? (Meeting new people, exploring another culture, education system, independent living, enhancing your skills, etc.)
2. When should I study abroad? (Undergraduate, exchange, Masters, PhD, but also seasons summer/winter etc.)
3. Where to study abroad?
4. Does the country have an adaptable lifestyle? (Find the expenses category, climate, modes of transportation, cost of housing etc.)
5. What are the prerequisites for pursuing the course? (List down their prerequisites, such as IELTS or TOEFL, visa etc.)
6. What are my options for funding?

When thinking about the why, how, and what (Unbelievable that a Simon Sinek reference made it here), you are able to budget much more correctly and hence have a better approximation of your funding needs. Planning funding this way also allows you to compare whether or not studying abroad is something for you. Going abroad costs a lot of money, these funds could be placed better in starting a family, starting a business or something third. It all relates to your situation and how much you want to invest/spend. Just remember studying abroad is a one-in-lifetime experience and cannot genuinely be compared to anything else - a bold statement I know, but a statement I stand by.

Summing up

I aspire that through this short article, you have gotten a bit closer to studying abroad. Choosing to study abroad is a major decision, with a lot of necessary groundwork. Both in terms of financing the trip, but also in finding your why, how, and what.

All that is missing now is up to you. Go out, find your dream studies and obtain that needed financing. I would be more than happy to hear your success-story.

Jacob has helped secure funding (~60.000 EUR) for several student organisations through scholarships and secured funding for his own exchange program also through both institutional and private scholarships. If you need help, you are always welcome to mail info@nordic-sac.org or contact members of the Nordic Study Abroad Community. You can also reach out to Jacob directly on LinkedIn here.

Written by Jacob H. Poulsen

On the 11th of March 2020, I received an offer from the University of Oxford to study a Master's in Science in law and Finance. I was beyond excited, happy, and proud but also a bit scared. Would I be able to keep up with such bright and intelligent students? How different would the teaching at Oxford be compared to the teaching I was used to at the University of Copenhagen. Looking back at the previous year, I am reflecting on especially the latter question.

What is law: Should law be normative?
At Oxford, my perception of 'what law is' has been challenged, and I have learned to question the 'is' and ask what the legal position 'ought' to be. As a first-year law student at the University of Copenhagen, I quickly learned about Alf Ross, who is one of the major scholars from the genre 'Scandinavian realism'. His way of thinking is deeply embedded in the Danish legal tradition, namely that law is a science about norms but not normative in itself. This very realistic and doctrinal perception of law, which I almost took as a universal truth, has been shattered. At my first law lecture at Oxford, we were asked to be critical of the 'is' and the possible biases embedded in the prevailing normative framework. Thus, the most significant difference between law and Copenhagen and Oxford is perhaps a more fundamental disagreement about what law is and how much emphasis the two institutions put on the 'ought' question.

A much closer relationship with the professors and academic community
Another prevailing difference between the teaching at Oxford and the University of Copenhagen is properly a question of resources. In Copgenhagen, we had very little interaction with the academic community given the fact that only the lectures were taught by professors, and the seminars were led by (excellent) practitioners. At Oxford, all the teaching is conducted by professors, both lectures, seminars, and tutorials. The latter is something we did not have at the University of Copenhagen. Furthermore, the teaching at Oxford, especially at the undergraduate-level, is centred around tutorials. A tutorial is a discussion between two to three students and a professor about an essay written within a particular area. This fosters a learning-rich environment as the teaching focuses on feedback and critical thinking.

A much longer reading list
A last key distinction between Copenhagen and Oxford is the length of the reading list. At the University of Copenhagen, there is a limitation on how many pages the professors can assign depending on how many ETSC credits the course accounts for. For a 15 ETSC credit course, this is roughly 750 standard pages. It is safe to say such limitation does not exist at Oxford, and the readings for a course, which would be equal to 15 ETSC credits, are much closer to 750 pages per week. However, while the reading list at Oxford at first felt massive on unmanageable, I quickly learned that no one reads all the assigned readings. As our professor in tax law said: "If you read all the readings, you could properly be the person presenting the paper". Thus, at the University of Copenhagen, they expect you to read every inch of the assigned readings. In contrast, at Oxford, you are freer to concentrate on the material you find interesting, which is possible because the examination style is essay based.

A quick wrap up
To quickly wrap up, there are material differences in the way the two institutions teach. Most significantly, the differences consist of a more prominent emphasis on normative considerations, a closer relationship to the academic community and a longer reading list. While the one is not necessarily better than the other, I am grateful that I have got the opportunity to experience both.

Written by Naja Marie Sanvig Knudsen

The story of why I decided to study classics begins with a spontaneous decision. The year was 2011, and I had to indicate which A-levels I wanted to take at the gymnasium I attended in Denmark. I remember having a feeling that it was somehow set in stone that I was to go for the combination of subjects called ‘English and Social Studies’. However, about ten minutes before the deadline I started to question why this decision seemed predetermined. I looked down at the scrap of paper where I had to indicate my choice of A-level combination and paused on the esoteric sounding combination called ‘Greek and Latin’. Though it was vague and immature, my notion of a world of philosophy, history, languages and literature intrigued me. And so I put down an ‘x’ next to ‘Greek and Latin’ and made the spontaneous decision that would have an enormous impact on my life.

Ten years have passed since that decision, and I am now doing a PhD in ancient Greek philosophy at the University of Cambridge. What began as a fascination of a distant and ancient world, has now become the source of my career, ambition and passion. Let me explain what happened: I have always had the feeling that the world outside my upbringing in rural Denmark was full of adventure and wisdom just waiting to be discovered. My decision to go abroad and my decision to study classics were therefore motivated by a similar desire to discover a world so profound and different from what I knew. I did all of my degrees in the UK because I felt that the universities here offered what I was longing to be a part of: A large and lively community where the study of philosophy and classics has a long and outstanding scholarly tradition and is held in high esteem by society. This is what led me first to Edinburgh for my undergraduate degree, and what has made me stay for the MPhil and PhD at Cambridge.

So what can we learn from studying abroad? If I were to sum up my answer to this question and express it in a single word, I think I would say ‘perspective’ and particularly ‘the perspective of the other’. Let me say a brief word about this in relation to my studies and my experience of being abroad.

What fascinated me about the Greeks was that, though their culture and ideas in many ways seemed foreign and often distasteful, aspects of their thought, history and language yet permeate our identity today and, as such, are an integral part of who we are, whether Danish or British. We may rightly criticise the philosophies of the Greeks and identify their many shortcomings, but the wonderful thing is that it is exactly in doing so that we most stand on their shoulders.

When I began studying in the UK, I experienced that shift in identity whereby ‘being Danish’ suddenly became one of my defining characteristics and marked me out from the people around me: my ‘otherness’. This is, of course, exciting. But I for my part also noticed that it was something that disconnected me from the culture and country in which I now living. Yet I soon found myself thinking that thought so familiar when one is abroad that, for all these differences, there is a common set of values and aspirations that we share regardless of nationality.

If I am to draw these two senses of an encounter with the other into a synthesis, I believe the most fundamental way in which studying abroad teaches you is to make you discover your place in a greater narrative of ideas and values where, by encountering the other, you learn something about who you are.

Written by Jacob Hofmann Andersen

As August and graduation approach, I look back on my bachelor's at Berkeley College in New York City. What should have been two years of education, challenges, fun, and once-in-a-lifetime experiences, quickly became long hours of online school in Denmark, living with my parents after a global pandemic hit.

In March 2020, I was a little over halfway into my second semester at Berkeley. I had just traveled to San Diego with my dad, where we had loosely discussed the foreign virus, only yet experienced in China. When Denmark went into lockdown, the U.S. was alert but had not yet closed its borders or taken specific actions. I went from sitting in class Wednesday discussing a presentation due Monday the coming week to sitting in a plane on Friday the 13th on my way to Denmark. Being back in Denmark was a surreal experience; while I was happy to be among family and friends, I had left a furnished room and everything known in regard to my education.

I had never taken online courses at Berkeley, and since I am on the honors program doing a four-year bachelor's in two years, I have to take extra credits each semester. This meant that I had more online courses than Berkeley typically allows, and I was challenged to the extreme. The beginning was the hardest; the transition from going online mixed with me being back home, suddenly living with my parents again, presented more challenges than I could have imagined. To my luck, Berkeley has a nationally recognized online program, so my online content made up for everything we didn't have in class. Nevertheless, being in online school every day for 4.5 semesters is tough, even for the best time-management and structured individual.

As stated above, I was home in Denmark in mid-March 2020, and I didn't return to New York until mid-March 2021. A normal day during this year-long period would consist of me getting up at 6 a.m. and working until 6 p.m., with two breaks, one short before noon and a more extended break in the afternoon. I had to work efficiently every day to finish all my assignments on time. Rather than having zoom classes in the middle of the night, Berkeley accommodated its students' different schedules and time zones and created Sunday to Saturday weeks. This meant that all assignments were uploaded on Sunday and had to be done the following Saturday. This presented me with flexibility, and I found that with great concentration and time management, I could have time to spare in the early evening to spend with my family and friends. I had no certainty of when I could return, so I knew that prioritizing quality time was essential.

Now, with only 1.5 months left of my bachelor's, I look back in disbelief. In addition to the responsibilities and duties my education brought about, I had people in both the U.S and Denmark who counted on me, and I was constantly trying not to disappoint. My strategy was simple; take one day at a time and do my best under the circumstances. While I often found myself stressed and frustrated about my situation, I managed to pull through, and I can finally see the finish line after an unusual and difficult two years.

Written by Caroline Lambæk

One of the questions I get asked a lot is how I got into Harvard. Unlike math, college admission isn’t an exact science. While that can seem frustrating, it’s also what makes it so exciting – and obtainable! When I applied back in 2019, I was certain I wouldn’t get in because my SAT was on the low side of the 25 th quartile for Harvard, I had no fancy honors or awards, nor was I the president of a dozen high school clubs. In fact, my SAT was 1410, I had no awards, and I was in exactly zero clubs. How did I get in then? Because I was irrevocably me.

The Fallacy of the Carbon Copy
Pretend like you’re an admissions officer at Harvard; what would you be looking for in a student? It is well known that most of the 40,000+ applicants each year are more than qualified to go to Harvard, so how would you choose who gets the coveted spot at probably the most famous college in the world? While it’s true that a lot of admits live up to the cliché, many do not, including me. Harvard–as well as other top-colleges–don’t want a class made up of carbon copies. It would be thoroughly unproductive and boring. Harvard wants, no, needs, students who can fill up niche areas. If we consider college sports, each team needs x number of players. Think of the student body as team members in different sports, but instead of sport, it could be math, cello players for the orchestras, student government, and everything in between. You need to ask yourself what your niche is and where you might fit in. Me? I’m an autistic, Danish realism artist and autism advocate who has painted H.R.H. Princess Marie of Denmark and participated in a documentary series. I can guarantee that no other applicant had a similar profile.

Admissions officers have decades of experience and will see right through you if you do certain activities just to make your CV seem more impressive. Yes, you definitely need to get near-perfect grades; yes, you need to choose a challenging course load (I did six A-levels); and yes, you definitely need to have good extracurriculars, but most applicants have at least accomplished the first two. Your chance to stand out lies in your ECs. If you pursue what you are passionate about, you won’t even have to make an extra effort on that front. I had no idea about any of this until about a year before I applied. I never saw my art or advocacy as extracurricular activities. While it may be tempting to join as many clubs or non-profits as you can, it will not benefit you at all unless you are genuinely interested. It is a thousand times better to have 1-2 activities that you love than to waste your time. The admissions officers want to see your passion.

The Application Process
On a more practical note, I know navigating the application process can be daunting and confusing. My advice is to start as early as possible. The web contains a wealth of information, but don’t let it overwhelm you. Research the different colleges and their requirements, get comfortable with CommonApp and start practicing for the entrance exams. Make a list of everything you need to do and when to do it. Khan Academy is an amazing practice resource for the SAT. Make sure you have a good relationship with at least two of your teachers. Letters of recommendation are important, but teachers and student councilors in Denmark are not used to writing them. I recommend putting together a guide or offering to write a draft for them.

One of the most important components is the essay. Each college has different essay prompts and styles, so be prepared to write many. I wrote about my autism, art, and documentary series in my CommonApp essay, and about my love for Spanish in my Harvard-specific essay. It’s a good idea to have others read it and make suggestions. I recommend looking for inspiration online, but I strongly discourage copying a style. There is no right way to do it, so follow your instincts. Choose a topic that really reflects who you are as a person. Don’t write what you think they want to read; write what you want to say.

A Final Piece of Advice
While I was accepted to Harvard, I was rejected by Stanford and Princeton, and waitlisted by Yale. Saying admissions is random is a mistake, but it’s by no means predictable. There are many possible reasons why I was only accepted by Harvard. Perhaps the other colleges did not see how my niche would fit in with the rest of the student body, maybe I didn’t present myself as well in their admissions essays, or perhaps they just didn’t believe I was a good fit. I will never know, and that’s okay. Getting rejected is not a reflection of our capabilities. As long as you stay true to who you are, you will end up where you belong.

Written by Nina Skov Jensen

Find Nina on ninaskovjensen.com or __ninstagram__ on Instagram

In the middle of “Christmas joy, post-exam”-relief, 16 other students and I from CBS’ GLOBE program took off on an almost empty plane – the destination being Hong Kong. Not only had our semester at the Chinese University of Hong Kong been jeopardized by the Covid pandemic, add to that the political unrest, and so our expectations were low. However, against what feels like all odds, we made it! Here are a few things I have learned along the way.

1: There is a fine line between freedom and prison

On Christmas eve, three days before our scheduled departure, The Hong Kong SAR government announced an extension of the mandatory hotel quarantine from two weeks to three. Not exactly contributing to the Christmas spirit and honestly, if we were not traveling as a group, probably a dealbreaker to some of us. Regardless, we were too excited about finally being able to travel so off we went. Fast forward a few days and we conquered our 15 square meter hotel room equipped with a tracking device mounted to our wrists, a digital thermometer, and a touch of paranoia. “Is this what prison feels like?” was a thought that naturally popped into my head in this state of mind - despite the obvious and vast differences from an actual prison.
But, ironically, it almost felt like freedom. Not having any obligations for three weeks rather than staying alive, delivering negative Covid tests, and not walking outside a door was – to a certain degree – a relief from a rather stressed life back home. I certainly believe that a lot of people in modern life’s day and age would benefit from a detox from reality like that. The simple act of watching Netflix all day without feeling bad is – ironically – enriching.

2: Not all restrictions are created equal

Fast forward to us exiting quarantine, we were quite uncertain about the reality we were to meet. At the time, you were only allowed to be two people together and masks were mandatory everywhere. In other words, very different from the country we left back home. However, soon it was clear that the restricting quality of restrictions was only as restricting as people perceive them (Ok, this was the final use of the word “restriction”). In Denmark, people have an almost religious relationship with restrictions and how they should be followed. A quality that does not seem to have much resemblance to here, where things are a bit more fluid when it comes to judging what a sufficient level of cautiousness is.  A common explanation for this, is the fact that citizens here simply have a different relationship with their government. Also – and let’s be honest – there are limits to how much distance people can keep in one of the most densely populated cities in the world. Regardless, the numbers speak for themselves, crowning Hong Kong victorious in the HK/DK fight-the-virus race.

3: Years are not lost – they are just utilized differently

Warning upfront: The following may have various underlying factors that may explain it, however, the scope of this is not to provide an extensive epidemic or geopolitical analysis – I just want to point out a few interesting things. Regardless, I have been impressed by the “the world goes on”-attitude that the city and everyone in it exhibits. They do not talk about “a lost year” or anything of similar melancholic character. Instead, the fast-paced and rather entrepreneurial mindset has equipped the Hongkongers with an impressive ability to accept the situation and cope with it in the best possible manner. Coming from the outside, it is a refreshing approach to the Covid-problem that all countries face, and a panorama view into the culture I am visiting.

Written by Emil Foldager Jensen

Hi! I’m Anton from Denmark and I study Political Science in Copenhagen. After having studied remotely since March, I was hanging on to the slight hope of schools reopening in time for my planned exchange to London in the fall of 2020. Unfortunately, as the end of August grew closer, it became more and more unrealistic. Not wanting to waste a second before the second wave of Covid-19 rolled over Europe, I jumped on a plane to stay with my girlfriend in Colombia – which is where I have carried out my remote exchange at Queen Mary, University of London since.

Online fatigue yet living in the mountains

Although online learning has taken some time to get used to, the setup has been straightforward. Every week the course platform provides lectures, reading material and questions to answer. However, I have missed the physical presence at university, grabbing a coffee after class with new friends, attending quiz nights, listening to external speakers and playing university sports. As a lucky trade, I have instead had the chance to see the Colombian countryside on weekends, driving a few hours down the mountains of the capital Bogotá to ride horses and chase sunsets.

The question of logistics

I have taken four modules at Queen Mary, ranging from the politics of the Middle East to the history of the UK’s relationship with the EU. Besides finding the content of the modules extremely interesting, their format has also been great match with my preferences. Due to a time difference of six hours, I had to wake up at 4 AM on the Thursday of the first week. However, after asking the administration for help, all my classes have been between 8 and 10 AM, which has given me ample time to write class assignments, exercise and explore Bogotá.

Understanding the country context

Granted, at times it has been hard to remain motivated when sitting in front of a screen all day for weeks on end. My main way of coping has been to study at a local coffee shop called Caffa, where I have made friends with the owner. Rates of Covid-19 infections have been much lower in Bogotá this fall, and city life has remained open, albeit with masks, temperature checks and disinfection. Besides making great coffee, Caffa also works to improve the livelihoods of their coffee suppliers by teaching human rights classes in areas affected by the long-lasting conflict between the Colombian government and the guerrilla group FARC. Their work has been a great motivation, and it has allowed me to reflect on the way that civil society can leverage both law and business to create societal change.

Inspiration for future projects

Overall, I have had a great time studying at Queen Mary. In fact, my class on the UK’s relationship with the EU has opened my eyes to the blended form of Political Science and History that maps and traces international negotiation processes. I hope to draw on this approach in my thesis this spring, where I intend to analyse the Danish negotiation of the Single European Act of 1986 using European integration theories and historical documents. My two semesters of remote learning have taught me the importance of creating a daily routine – making sure to eat proper meals, going outside for walks and staying in touch with the people you love. Until the European vaccines are rolled out, it looks like I will have to continue those habits in Copenhagen.

Written by Anton Holten Nielsen

When I, by pure coincidence, decided to apply for some of the UK’s top universities in 2016, it was out of a desire to experience an international culture and try on a different academic environment. I was accepted into UCL’s bachelor program in History, and, buzzing with excitement, I jumped on a plane in September 2018 from Copenhagen to London. A new life had begun. Ever since then, I have been awarded both professionally and personally in ways I could not have imagined, and I believe the experiences and skills that I have required from my three years in London demonstrate quite clearly why anyone considering studying their bachelor’s abroad should take the jump and do it, too.

International friendships and networks

No matter where I choose to travel in the world, I now either have a friend whose couch I can crash on or someone in their network that I can contact in order to do the same. This works for more than just cheap travelling and meeting new people; it also provides a bunch of opportunities for those of us who are interested in doing an internship abroad or working internationally in the future.

Made me reevaluate my native mindset

No matter what you study abroad, your previous educational and cultural experience will be challenged. My Danish identity was both strengthened by going abroad but also reassessed throughout the different encounters I’ve had with everything from English, Mexican, Indian, Egyptian and French to Chinese culture. This ability to look past your own cultural bias is a definitive benefit in any future workplace.

Problem solving and personal growth

Having lived in England during both Brexit and the COVID-19 pandemic has proved challenging in different ways. I have experienced being cut off from important relationships when the pandemic forced us apart – by more than just social distancing but by our different countries’ borders. The experience was tough but awarded me with communicative skills, resilience to stress, and a flair for problem-solving that I surely would not have gotten if I had not had the experience of living abroad.

Community

Once you go international, you never go back. Yet, I have found that the Danish community abroad connects me to my national identity in a way I never did before. More Danes live abroad and in a city like London than one could imagine, and the experiences we share in this place join us in a bond that is special and quite unbreakable. Together, we go through experiences that friends and family at home may not understand, and that provides the most wonderful sense of community – and not at least, many laughs at all the strange cultural encounters we have in our crazy and lovely host country.

The experience of a lifetime

By the time I graduate in 2021, I will only have lived in London for 2 out of my 3 school years and almost half of my degree will have been affected by the pandemic. Still, there is no way that I regret my choice in going to study abroad. I have gotten friends for a lifetime, travelled to new places, gotten under the skin of a new culture, had tons of great nights in pubs and bars, and gone through a truly academic enriching process with my course. I can only but recommend studying your bachelor’s abroad and cross my fingers that other young students out there have the chance to go through the same experience as I did.

Written by Signe Skov Jensen

Hi there! My name is Baltazar, and while I am originally from Denmark, I am now doing my first year of my undergraduate degree in Philosophy, Politics and Economics at the University of Oxford. When asked to write a blog post for NSAC, I was a bit unsure as to what to write about. In the end, I settled on taking on some of the worries I had about going to study abroad, which showed out to be no problem at all - hopefully, if any of you are either considering whether or not to apply, or waiting to go abroad, it can be a reassurance that everything is not too hard.

My academic background is going to be all wrong

Graduating with an STX-degree, I was honestly a bit unsure as to how I would do academically compared to my British peers. While Oxford recognises the STX as equally valid to any other qualification, the teaching in especially subjects like maths is very different. However, in the end my experience has been very positive - I did not have much ground I needed to cover, and even if I had had that, there were dedicated catch-up courses in maths for those who hadn’t had the proper training. Obviously, this is subject dependent, but many courses in other countries do not necessarily have subject specific requirements, meaning that they will be good at picking you up where you are.

The cultural and linguistic barriers are going to be too tall to traverse

Going to study in England, and in Oxford, of all places, put me in a weird spot culture-wise. On the one hand, it is a European country and thus culturally close to home, yet I still sometimes feared that I would have a hard time keeping up with the language and customs. However, this was quickly brought to shame - people who go here are from widely different backgrounds internally in the UK and externally in the world, and they have been very helpful and inclusive on that front.

I might be the wrong place in my life

Another of my worries concerned the fact that I was very aware that I would be roughly 1.5 years older than the average student here. That is an entirely normal situation for Nordic students in the UK to be in, as the culture over here does not encourage taking gap years to the same extent than at home, as well as the fact that children start school a year earlier. I shall be frank and say that at times it feels a bit like being back in the last year of high school, but it is not a bad thing, and it is something we can joke about. If you are considering applying and are in your early twenties, you might want to look into whether there are accommodation or other services for “mature” students that can be a way of insuring yourself against this as well.

I am going to feel very far from home

The last thing I want to address is the fear that you might feel very isolated and alone, moving to another country. This has been especially true this year with everything that has been going on. While I’ll admit that it is tough at times. Everybody who goes to uni here is moving away from home - and most for the first time, so it is not too different from the other students. All in all I’ve only really felt homesickness when nothing else was going on, and normally, that won’t be an issue, because you’ll be way too busy enjoying your studies!

I hope this might have addressed some concerns amongst potential students. Should you ever have any questions about studying at Oxford or life abroad in general, feel free to reach out to me at baltazar.dydensborg@oriel.ox.ac.uk - other than that, good luck with your applications!

Written by Baltazar Dydensborg

The decision to study abroad is quite life changing and making the decision while the world finds itself in a global health crisis does not make it any easier. Caroline works for the non-profit Project Access, who through their peer-to-peer network and knowledge base helps students from all over the world apply to the world’s best universities. She gives an insight in to the challenges that the global pandemic has for the fight for equal access to top universities abroad.

As an organisation trying to make the application process to the world’s best universities more manageable, the pandemic has not helped our work. Still three months after the world went in lockdown, there are no specific guidelines from universities, travel restrictions are ambiguous, and while a country like Denmark are opening pubs, gyms and borders, a popular student destination like the United States, is still facing over 2 million confirmed cases. It is difficult to share clear guidelines and information is extremely sensitive. Students are hesitant – is it even worth going abroad if you have to compromise lectures, seminars and the social life at university? Many prospective students are reconsidering their application, as well as their university offers. What can be done in a situation like this?

Project Access is a remote organisation and we are lucky that not much has changed. We have had to replace in-person outreach events with online alternatives and try to regularly update our social accounts with the latest updates from our target universities. Similarly, we have moved all our mentor trainings online and done our best to support each and every mentorship. In short, we are committed to keep working on inspiring passionate students to apply to top universities and likewise to keep finding amazing mentors for those students. Being a student-led organisation, our team members find themselves with the same frustrations as many prospective students and this essentially helps us guide everyone in the right direction. Community has been an essential element in all of this and through our new Program and upcoming Bootcamps in countries like Denmark and Finland, we hope to remove the feeling of confusion and loneliness for each applicant.

Some of our mentees have decided to apply to one of their home universities. Some have received an offer to postpone their commencement of study to 2021. Some are taking the leap and choosing to go abroad regardless of the current situation. So, what is the right thing to do? There is no right or wrong in deciding your future path. Learn about your opportunities, the current state of affairs in your preferred university city and talk to your parents, friends, and, most importantly, other people with the same dream as you. Be critical to the different news sources and contact your dream university if needed. Universities around the world are finally starting to give an idea of what the next academic year is going to look like. Many universities in the United Kingdom offer a half-and-half solution, with lectures being online and seminars being on-campus. Freshers week is planned outside of university and student accommodations are doing their best to follow the newest guidelines. There are some amazing opportunities in the Nordic countries that can help you out, whether it is going to the virtual 2020 NSAC Conference or signing up for free to the Project Access Program. We are here to help you clarify your future – also during a global health crisis.

Written by Caroline Sofie Skytte Kamper

It was mid-March when reality seemed to slowly come apart at the seams.

I remember one rather ominous meeting. I and a couple of my peers met with an academic who was supposed to accompany us on a study trip to the US. I had been following the news both in the UK, where I study and in the US and knew that the likelihood of the trip going ahead was quickly diminishing. This academic, who had arranged the meeting, informed us that while the original purpose of the meeting was to discuss the itinerary for the trip, the meeting would now be spent discussing if we felt it was safe to go at all. We were set to visit New York and Boston with the university. We were supposed to visit New York University and Boston University, for lectures at both institutions along with trips to some historical and political landmarks. Furthermore, I was planning to Visit MIT and Yale to discuss master’s degrees. As a result of the coronavirus, none of this ended up happening.

Over the course of the year, out of the first 95 days (125 total) of teaching, 22 had been cancelled due to strike action. Now 5 more days would be cancelled due to the pandemic, and the final 25 would be moved online. I spent the last five days before 1 month of our scheduled Easter Break finishing up some coursework. This turned out to be a mistake. I had decided to go back to my parents’ house in Denmark since all activities that required me to be on campus (lectures, seminars, exams, and so on) had either been moved online or cancelled altogether. When I ordered my plane ticket back to Denmark, it kept getting cancelled time and time again. I ended up having 5 cancelled plane tickets before the 6^th one finally got me home, 2 weeks later than expected.

My university is in the North of England, so I usually fly via Manchester. That was no longer an option, meaning I had to take the train to Heathrow in order to get home. Taking the London metro during a pandemic, with an entire subway full of people wearing masks and gloves, I am fairly certain will be one of the most surreal things I will ever do.

I have now been home since April 1^st. When trying to describe what I have been doing, the word that I find most accurate is “cope”. I have been trying to cope. My only objective has been to preserve my humanity for as long as possible. I am fortunate to have been locked up in a gilded cage, but it has, nonetheless, been dreadfully difficult to motivate myself to study topics that I know I will not be assessed on, as all my exams have been cancelled. Fortunately, I find most of the material absolutely riveting. To compensate, I try to waste my time as productively as possible. I am currently making my way through Yuval Noah Harari’s course “A Brief History of Humankind” which formed the basis of his best-selling work Sapiens. It is available for free on his Youtube channel. Otherwise, I might study Japanese or check in with friends, which is a mutual service, that I highly recommend to anyone in this weird, weird time.

Stay safe out there, all of you. And wash your hands!

Written by Marius Henius Dreijer