I shall return...My Home...My Bangor.

I wanted to stay here forever. A place I called my second home in just five months.

This was a special place where everything I wanted was available and easily accessible. Variety of culture and diversity flourished in this northern town of Wales. Shops, big and small, banks, restaurants, pubs, and clubs all enjoying the crowd day through night. A place where I can see the Snowdonia Mountains from my window and a short walk I could reach the Victorian Pier. If only I could take all of it with me. This is my second home. This is my Bangor.

Around 8am on May 31st, 2011, I woke up to see my room lit with the sun's light on my window and to my daffodils. My room had been semi-messy from packing and cleaning. I had some coffee and cookies before heading out to do last-minute shopping. Whilst walking to High Street, I kept looking upwards towards the construction of the new Student's Union and Main Arts building. I was thinking about how Bangor would look like after returning in 2-3 years or possibly 4-6. Will all of this be the same? What aspects of the university and town be different? I bought some chocolate from Thompson's, one of my favorite shops, and headed to explore my last day on High Street.

After returning the remaining library books, I did a brief tour of the building and headed out towards the Cancer Center and science buildings. Although I didn't have any classes on this side of the campus, I have few, good memories of this area. As much as I want to continue writing about my lunch and talking with my flatemates, I want to share about my thoughts and feelings towards the end of the day.

Around 6:30pm, I stood at the Main Arts building's balcony in the back while gazing at the sunset at the far right towards Bangor station. I could not look at the train station because I knew that in the next couple of hours I would be on my way to London at my airport hotel. I kept on looking down at students walking towards High Street and the Cathedral. On my left was the Menai Strait.

Although it was windy, I stood still and thought, "When will I return to this balcony? Whom will I bring with me or will I come alone? What part of Bangor can I take home with me?" Soon another, rather funny, thought appeared, "Well, I'm taking souveniers and pictures home, but it won't be the same as the memories in my heart." As much as I thought about my experiences, I didn't cry. I couldn't stand it anymore so I started to walk back to my apartment.

While walking back, I went shopping for gum, made that one last puchase at Morrisons and mentioned a final goodbye to the cashier and said, "Someday I will be back." During my stay in Bangor, I most of the time I went to the same cashier.

Around 8pm, I returned to my room and finished final packing of all my bags. I was exhausted but not from packing. I was tired of feeling sad and upset that tomorrow, June 1st, was my departure from Bangor. I wanted to forget about those feelings for a few moments and decided to eat dinner. While cooking dinner, two of my flatemates gave me 2 presents which I am still using. It was definitely a surprise but I was somewhat happy that my stay in Bangor was worthwhile. I ate my last Pizza from Bella's and fresh cooked spaghetti. It was delicious but in the back of my mind, regret and sadness was increasing.

After cleaning up and last minute packing, I straightened my blankets and headed out for another walk...back to the balcony for Main Arts building. The time was 1:30am at night. Only few people were around but I wasn't scared. I approached the balcony carefully as the lampost lights were glimmering in the dark. My eyes glanced for only a few minutes at Bangor station then to High Street shops' roof tops. I looked out to the mountains then to the Menai strait. The lights on the beach was one of the scenes I have cherished till today. Sailboats floating by the docks and few cars driving back and forth on the roads of Bangor.

One thing was for sure, in the next few hours I would have to wake up, get dressed, and silently walk towards Bangor station. The thought of walking towards that place was awful and disgusting but I couldn't ignore it. I wished that Apollo, the Greek god of the Sun, would ride on his chariot and reverse time so I can repeat May 31st until I was ready to go home. I knew this was impossible and had to face tomorrow, June 2nd, and return to Newark, NJ on the night of June 3rd.

Looking onward to the beautiful town of Bangor, I said out loud, "I will be back. I will definitely be back. I will do whatever it takes to return, my Bangor." I felt a heartache, a strong thud on my chest. The feelings, you may ask, were the truth and reality. I was leaving with my luggage and memories preserved in my heart. From exploring Conwy castle to traveling to Anglesey, discussing American media to Al-Jazeera setting the news agenda, and understanding visual culture of Iranian film to watching Grave of the Fireflies, are just some of my experiences throughout the five months stay in Bangor, Wales.

It was time to leave Bangor University campus. At 2:30am, I left the balcony of Main Arts and headed towards John Phillips Hall, a lecture hall, where most of my class sessions were held. A place where I was always welcome and definitely had time to joke around about American lifestyle, travel, and of course media.

I still remember the first day I entered my GNA class and left with excitement since I had a burning desire to present and discuss an article during the first seminar the following week: The Information Revolution and the Middle East. I was definitely nervous and had no idea how to present a seminar. I knew that many international students wait to present in the middle or last but I wanted to inform my classmates that I was different. Although I did make a fool of myself, I still gave myself a pat on the back for a good first try.

I was alone in the dark and still walked on to the outside gate of BBC Radio. Although I never toured the building, I knew that my communications and public relations careers will embark once I return to the States. I started to walk back to my apartment.

I walked slowly and reached my room around 3:30am and was half sleep knowing that my last 8am wake-up call would be merely few hours away.

I opened my eyes...my alarm clock read in red, thin print in black background: 4am. I kept checking my calendar to see if the day was June 1st and not May 31st. I couldn't dream about the beginning of study abroad because I felt as if I just wanted to scream and yell, "Don't make me go back!" I didn't yell or scream but my heart was. Sadly, my legs spoke to me and said, "You have to do this. You have no choice. You can return but have to leave Bangor tomorrow morning." I didn't scheduled my train time around noon or evening, because I knew I wouldn't be able to go until June 2nd or 3rd. I would make excuses to stay in Bangor. I wanted to reach London as soon as possible to avoid staying in Bangor.

Finally, I drank 2 cups of warm jasmine tea and ate ginger biscuits around 5am, entered my room and was sound asleep. During the first few seconds, I said to myself, "I have to do this. I do have a choice of staying but then I would never leave and keep saying tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow."

"Bangor, I will be back." Although I kept thinking I will be back with a one-way ticket, sadly this can never be true...I will have to leave my Bangor in the past, present, and future.

My home. My second home. My countryside home. My Wales.

My Bangor.