Let me be frank: I decided to take a term abroad at King’s Academy, a boarding school in Jordan, to escape Choate. After two years of the same clothes, the same classrooms, and the same routine, I desired nothing more than separation from the quirks and traditions that make Choate the distorted reality it is. Therefore, nothing disappointed me more than arriving in Amman to discover how much about Choate I couldn’t escape.
My first day of classes, I walked into the dining hall—which is adorned with flags like Deerfield’s dining hall—to find that every lunch would be community lunch. The small-talk skills I had accumulated over two years at various community lunch tables expired within a week of extended conversations about the weather. I was shocked to find Harkness tables in all but one of my classes. I was dumfounded at the sight of suede Sperry boat shoes and Vineyard Vines belts. The final straw, however, manifested itself when at Saturday brunch I had to wait ten minutes for an omelet. I felt betrayed. Would I ever be liberated from the oppressive grip of New England boarding school?
Over time, the differences between Choate and King’s Academy unveiled themselves. I traded cold and rainy New England weather for hundred-degree temperatures and dust storms. Purple and green bushes of lavender and rosemary replaced the orange hues of the maple trees by Hill House. Adjusting to the Arab workweek, which begins on Sunday and ends on Thursday because of Friday’s religious significance, was difficult. Many Arabs are also very family-oriented and have a strong sense of duty towards their families. Other exchange students and I took a weeklong trip through Jordan, and many of the people we spoke to recounted fairytale-esque stories about their families’ histories. These tales of land disputes, wars with other families, and migrations that date as far back as the 19th century fascinated me. One Christian family I met boasted about being the descendants of those who guarded the ruins of a Byzantine church for centuries.
Of course, not all of the similarities are bad. When I arrived at Choate my freshman year, I felt welcomed. Big kids in yellow T-shirts shepherded me across campus until I knew my way around. When I got to King’s this fall, I felt at home. Students, regardless of their role on campus, approached me to engage in conversation; teachers and students alike stopped me on the paths to ask where I was from. These expressions of “Arab hospitality” extended beyond campus to the streets of Amman, where passersby would yell, “Welcome to Amman!”
As my time at King’s reaches its close, the question most often asked of me is, “Do you like King’s or Choate better?” It’s true: when I left Choate last spring I was ready for a change. And yes, there are many aspects of King’s that outshine Choate. For instance, Popeye’s delivers to campus here. Also, sand dunes are far more surmountable than the uphill walk from Lanphy to Hill House. Some exchange students from other schools are even considering staying at King’s beyond the current term. However, I now realize I can’t abandon Choate. Even though King’s Academy has welcomed me with kindness and warmth, its students lack that love of school that binds the Choate community and has me excited to come back for more. I may be temporarily abroad, but I am forever true.
