No doubt that 2020 is a strange year, possibly the strangest for many. There are no tourists in Mallorca, no public in the Crucible for the World Snooker Championship, no reunion of the '95 class.
1995 was also a strange year in my life when I went back to Mallorca (Majorca, my homeland) after a year spent in Sheffield. A year that changed my life - as proof, if needed, here I am, living in Bucharest, Romania, teaching Catalan linguistics, Catalan and Spanish as second languages at the University of Bucharest, since 1998.
If something was clear to me after the year I've spent at the University of Sheffield, it was that I wanted, I needed, to go abroad, to live in another culture. From my point of view, there are few things in life which enrich you as much as spending consistent time in another country or culture, with a different language. Different language… Now I laugh when I remember myself during the first weeks in Sheffield thinking: Do they speak English here? “Ya”, “ta”, “luv” ... lol (as nowadays goes the expression for laughing).
It was not only a new culture for me, but another tradition in education, in teaching, in learning, and of course in organizing the student life. At Sheffield I was forced to work week by week, to write all those papers, work that meant reading a lot, and by a lot I mean a lot of writing and working alone, or in that magnificent library with views to the pond. It was not possible to dislike studying in such an environment. Next to the library, the Arts Tower, where one could take the Paternoster (yes, of course I took the whole tour once, you know what I mean) to rich heights I've never reached before and attend the classes while the building gently moved with the wind. What is there to dislike?
What's there to be told about the student life - the Student's Union? Its building, the Octagon, the facilities, the shows, the events, the parties, the pubs... Later I found it was voted the best Union for years in a row. There was absolutely no surprise. I have tried to explain to people from other cultures what the SU means, to no avail. It is a worthwhile experience for anyone - the ultimate adventure one could associate with the meaning of ‘student life’.
I believe I was lucky to be assigned a place at Earnshaw Hall of Residence, I can still easily recall my beloved room there, on the first floor, with views to the pond and its tree. I smile now remembering the welcoming committee of neighbours, some local guys and a guy from Cyprus. Mentioning all the people I've met that year would require not another small article but entire books...
To me Sheffield was never "the ugliest" city, as someone once said, I actually consider it my second home after Palma, in Mallorca, just like Bucharest, although here I have spent more years putting into practice the two mottos of the University of Sheffield: ‘Rerum Cognoscere Causas’ and ‘Disce, Doce’, which is what I do at the University of Bucharest. I always advise my students to make the most of any occasion they have to go abroad.
After the Sheffield experience, some things got clearer in my mind: the world is big and worth exploring; variety is all around (of languages, of people, of folklore, of friends you make along the road, of traditions, of places and so on); an opened mind makes humanity move forward and an excellent way to open one's mind is to live abroad, somehow alone and far from one's homeland. Sheffield always comes to my mind as an ideal place when talking to students about the importance of getting in touch with other cultures.
I would like to mention two teachers whose classes I had the pleasure to attend: Mr Alan Yates, teacher of Catalan and an important figure in Catalan culture, at the Hispanic Studies Department, who encouraged me to take the chance to go to the University of Sheffield. I would also like to mention Mr John Widdowson, whose folklore course was a challenge for me - a challenge which made me grow as a student and as a person in general.
Just a couple of months ago I had my second lung surgery (first one was in May) - what a weird year this one... Me, an expat, in hospital, in isolation until the COVID test came negative, in the operating room, then in my room - with no right to visits because, you know, COVID. Watching on TV old snooker tournaments and - there it is - the Crucible. That lovely time of the year I can recall, the sweet sensations from Sheffield. I would have never watched the Snooker Championship if it weren't for Sheffield, nor would I have ever been able to enjoy the different tastes of beer. Virtual ales for all. Cheers!
Joan Llinas Suau
(BA Spanish & Catalan 1995)