WORK|OUT European Students’ Review

   | Sherilyn Saporito (London). I left my sunny Massachusetts apartment by the park, with its 4 rooms, full kitchen, claw-foot bathtub, and front porch, for adventures in university housing in London. Of course it wasn’t an accommodation decision, I came to the UK for an education, for new experiences, and for all those other reasons that make one go far from home.
   When planning a major move like this, one gets caught up in daydreams of the new life, and the details (like housing) become minor concerns that just need arrangement. You forget how much influence your living space has over your life. A king size bed with a white down duvet, a sturdy bedside table, and windows that look out over a garden can make for perfect Sunday mornings of paper reading and orange juice, but a twin size bed in a room no bigger than a closet, with no natural light — well, it doesn’t really induce the desire for Sunday lounging, or any lounging for that matter. So, I came to London not knowing what to expect, but when the prospectus said a shared flat with 5 people and a common living space, I envision a shared flat with a common living space: One locked door, a room with a sofa, maybe a picture on the wall, and a kitchen with curtains and a refrigerator big enough to hold food. I expected, at the very least, an apartment where I would be forced to meet, talk to, and interact with the people who share my address.
   After negotiating New Cross for the first time, finding the housing department, and proving my identity, I was issued a code, a card, and a key, and sent on my way to find my building and my flat. Down the road, across the street, behind the bus stop, a gate, punch the given code into the gate’s lock, down the stairs, swipe the card to open the door, across the courtyard (nice enough, some flowers and plants, but no benches or tables) open door #3 with key, up the stairs searching for flat number, “Flats 17 and 18”, here I am. Locked door #4, open with key; not what I expected: A long green hallway with yellowish light, 6 closed doors, perhaps behind one of them is a living space? There is my room. Open the door, and... how do you describe the moment of disappointment, when you realize that this space, this room that you had imagined your London life taking place in, is nothing more than a glorified jail cell? I felt defeated. I kept waiting for some discovery that would reveal the true potential of this empty room with it’s bolted down fake wood furniture, buckling green bulletin board, and unmade twin bed, but the only surprise was a little folder on the desk, “Your Welcome Packet”.
   “Don’t worry if you aren’t feeling too confident at the moment”, it read, “you’re not the only one. It’ll take a few days for you to settle in”. You probably found that we did a terrible job describing your living situation, and when we said “flat”, we actually meant a locked bedroom with a tiny plastic airplane bathroom in it, behind another locked door, behind another locked door, behind another locked door. Don’t like roommates? Don’t worry, you will never meet them because they’ll be in their locked bedrooms, and the kitchen (the only shared space in the “flat”), is small, kinda gross, and uninviting. Did we mention the only thing we supply you with is a bed, desk, chair, and cabinet? You don’t really need things like shower curtains, especially when the shower is just a nozzle sticking out of the bathroom wall.
   Six months later and there is not much more I can say about my little borrowed space in London. There are pictures up now, I purchased a shower curtain and a duvet, and my stuff is crammed into every corner and shelf. I have memories here and it is where I return when I say I am going home, but I can’t romanticize it. It is not cool or bohemian, and the kicker… I pay twice as much as my friends who have a “proper” flat, so I can’t even justify it monetarily! Yet, my room does, on occasion, offer me some seclusion when I need it. And in the end, what right do I have to complain. I’m in London, this crazy city, the self proclaimed world leader on everything, with its daily cycle of the four seasons, and I have a room, a bed near a radiator, and 4 doors with locks in case I need an escape, or perhaps some solitary confinement.