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Photo courtesy of Arnold Nyatanga

Photo courtesy of Arnold Nyatanga

Prior to my arrival in the States, I had only seen snow on television. It was with great anticipation and excitement that I waited for the first snowy day. I vividly recall my first encounter with snow: It was one of those mornings when I would steal glances at the rising sun from behind my computer while frantically working to finish a paper. From my common room window, I noticed the ice crystals slowly dropping to the ground.

The sight was breathtaking. I dropped all my work, raced to the window; and saw that Snow College’s buildings and roads had been transformed into a picturesque scene from a Disney movie. The beauty of what I was seeing almost moved me to tears.

Of course, the novelty has long since worn off. With snow comes the obligation to wear layers of coats, all of which have to be removed upon entering a building. There is also the hassle of having to trudge to class in ridiculous snow boots. And after a snow comes the ‘freezing rain,’ which covers the roads with ice, turning the simple task of walking into a Hunger Games-esque challenge.

These days, my heart sinks when I see the snow. My optimism dies. My enthusiasm welters and I just want to go home. The cold “ture” of Utah was a big adjustment, which wasn’t easy for me, nor is it easy for any foreign student living in the snow for the first time.


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