Campus Life - Letters from Oxford University [最終回]

Saying farewell

By Wahei Aoyama

オックスフォード時代のパーティーでのひとこま。筆者（左端）が友達と楽しんだ日々も、今となっては懐かしい思い出に・・・

I find myself in a heart-wrenching situation. As all good things must someday end, my beloved Oxford life, too, must draw to a close. Life at Oxford was much too short, and I sometimes wish I could continue studying here. But then again, staying in one place for too long may make the mind complacent. Although my Oxford life was wonderful, I'm not afraid to move on. Rather, I'm excited by the future.

My exam results were announced the other day, and my results were posted up in front of the Examination Schools. Oxford has traditionally enjoyed agonizing its students with the fact that their entire results are posted, along with their full name (not a candidate number), for the viewing pleasure of the whole world. So if one fails, the world will know about it. Luckily, my grades were quite respectable and I was saved from humiliation.

筆者が学んだオックスフォード大学

Unlike most universities, Oxford's graduation ceremony is by reservation only. This means that students must "apply" for graduation so that they can attend the ceremony. The ceremony takes place around five or six times during the year, and an Oxford alumnus can sign up to graduate at any time until the day of his death. Thus, students do not have to graduate as soon as they finish their final exams, and many attend graduation a year or two after they leave Oxford.

Being my ordinary lazy self, I did not apply for a ceremony this year. I am not even sure if I will ever attend graduation. Lately, I have this fear that my graduation will not be for another 20 years, like when I'm married with children. But then again, bringing my kids along to graduation sounds like good fun, and will be a great excuse for me to visit Oxford for a family vacation.

A heartwarming end to life at Oxford was the surprise retirement party for my dear tutor, who has been at Hertford college for nearly 40 years. We had prepared champagne and raspberries, and invited him into a room where all the law students at Hertford were waiting. When he entered, we erupted into song. My tutor, a humble man who feels uncomfortable when having parties held in his name, looked genuinely touched.

A week later, it was my turn to leave. I left Oxford on a beautiful Sunday morning, with my friends accompanying me to the bus stop. The light of dawn fell gently upon the old stone architecture and cobbled streets; I could feel the timeless atmosphere of this university town. I began to miss Oxford before I had even left it, but I knew I had plenty of memories to remember it by. As I waved to my friends from the bus, I was content in the fact that I had lived my Oxford life to the fullest.

I've yet to master the art of saying goodbye. It's often an awkward affair. That is why I try to think nothing of it, as if tomorrow I would see my friends again, like any other day. This works well to avoid sentimentality when leaving friends and places. Rather than feeling sad, I think it's best to say goodbye with a grand smile - to be grateful for having had the opportunity to connect with many wonderful people. With that thought in mind, thanks so much for reading.

Shukan ST: Aug. 29, 2003

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