learning the hard way

After wandering through a labyrinth of a building, I finally find Room 43 and meet my classmates. 1 Italian, 1 German, 1 Irish and the rest are British. That makes a total of 9 of us, with two part-time students.

One course is taught by a tall, tanned, bespectacled anthropologist who tends to swallow his words and the other co-taught by a historical geographer and a historian, the historian was out of town on a conference so we weren't able to meet her but the other professor was just brimming with enthusiasm and seemed rather easygoing. Together the two courses both complement and contrast, bringing a mix of modern and historical in this field. What I was interested in was this interdisciplinary style, drawing from various fields, as I have no background in the social sciences. So far, it seems that it will be played that way.

However, while I was myself brimming with enthusiasm, my face (and the other classmates' too) fell when I saw the reading list. I know that this being an MA course, a lot of reading is to be expected but that much for just one week? Appalling. The prof did emphasize that we didn't have to worry our little heads off reading every single thing. The more important ones were astericked, and even among those, we could select some to read, as long as we could put forth a cogent point of view.

Still, I'm preparing to buckle down and ensure that my nose is firmly in the books. After all, I've had two months of absolute nothingdom prior.

Right then.