Creative: Seachange

I didnt think anything of moving to the coast at first, but I went along with
idea, believing in the more opportunities Sydney had, as my mother used
to say. I remember I had left early that chilly morning for my six hour train
ride, my family shouting all sorts of encouragement to me, masking their
sadness of sending me away for the first time. Our last time together was
seared in my memory as I walked past the roaring locomotive to my
carriage, their faces glowing with hope for my future.
I dont even know what I did for those six hours; the eclectic mix of
excitement of finally going out and emptiness of having no one to truly
talk to for the foreseeable future blotted out any other thoughts. But
Sydney Central arrived not a moment too soon and I paused for the
briefest second before stepping out under the huge sweeping arch
overhanging the stout sandstone walls. I felt like I had travelled into a
new world; I hadnt even noticed the sun go down and now, a multitude of
neon lights and noise assaulted my senses. Even our towns biggest
festivities were never even half as bright nor loud and the sudden influx of
information made me slightly dizzy. All my previous thoughts of a possible
late night out in the pub disappeared as I shuffled hurriedly to find my
apartment in this warren.
Saying that I was glad college started would be an understatement, as
after 2 months of wandering the congested city streets and barely talking
to anyone, I was ready for a change. Even after this time, I was continually
shocked by the number of people that could be in one place at the same
time as I was crammed onto a bus to Ultimo. I felt like a tinned sardine as I
fought my way into the aisles of the bus for a standing spot and then
contented myself with daydreaming the short trip away as I could do little
with my arms pinned by my side. But what had been a hope for a friendly
chat amongst a few students turned into a few hundred students in a huge
lecture hall. For a minute, I stared, almost incredulously even after a
month in this congested city. Circles of students stood together, eagerly
catching up on what I presumed was their latest outing, fashion trend, etc.
I never felt as distant to all the conversation as now. I anxiously took a
seat in the back row, wanting to be as far away from the hustle of people
as possible, yet at the same time wishing I could have a group to talk to.
How would I, of all people, be noticed in a throng like this? I settled
gloomily into my chair and waited for the professors introductory lecture.
I had heard enough lectures at college to not expect anything grand, but
the eloquence and inspiration that danced off Dr Melvilles words simply
enraptured me. He made me believe the highlights of the university, the
grand projects in each of the faculties: I was especially interested to hear
about the robotics the former engineering students had completed, the
course which I had eagerly applied for after discovering my devotion to

technicality and detail in any science. I dreamed of grand solutions, of the

ideal university lifestyle and even my path into the workforce as a proud
engineering student. After the lecture, I must have bombarded the
professor with a million questions, but I thought nothing of it then. I was
simply too enthusiastic. Even the rest of the day spent in solitude could
not dampen my spirits, as I eagerly waited for my lectures to start the
following week.
The truth however, was less grand than I had dreamed. Of course, I had
expected this and knew that the professor would not be around to answer
my every question; however, I had few friends that I could turn to for my
curiosity. Fortunately, Dr Melville seemed only too keen to help whenever
a point arose in the work that I could not understand; him being a former
engineering student as well, although in a different specialty. By the end
of a few weeks, I had diligently applied myself to excel my own
expectations; whereas I had hoped for a rudimentary understanding of the
physics involved, I had now firmly had the basic principles in my grasp.
But no matter how good my grades were, I still longed for the
companionship of friends, so we could discuss our favourite activities and
latest trends, to complete the professors university lifestyle.
Gradually and ever so slowly, I found myself being approached, timidly at
first, by strangers who asked me for help whenever they didnt
understand. For a while, I was reminded of me peppering the professor
questions for help and I smiled inwardly at the similarities. Those that
asked the most seemed to grow closer and slowly, I felt that I could relate
to them in a way. Many seemed to be from the same group, of a rough
appearance, but with the piercing and determined look from a hard
childhood spent in physical labour, not too dissimilar to me. My initial
reluctance at this show of fondness withdrew me and limited our small talk
to the broadest of topics, although I was steadily goaded out of my shell to
embrace their offerings of friendship. As they applied themselves, they too
grew disciplined in the course and we eventually came to hang out
together, bonded by our mutual ambition and past.
Those were probably one of the happiest years of my life, even our group
talking and laughing on the most normal days. I had thought moving to
Sydney might be strange at first and I was right, but I could never have
imagined the variety of life that existed here. The city was no longer a
warren, but a treasure chest of inspiration and I came to realise that
moving to the city perhaps was the best idea.