What could be more lonely than to be enveloped in silence to be the last of your people to speak your native tongue to have no way to pass on the wisdom of the elders to anticipate the promise of the children. This tragic fate is indeed the plight of someone somewhere roughly every two weeks.
Since my education I've done quite untraditional things. There are very few Etonians who went to Rada. And far fewer Etonians - certainly when I was there - went to Cambridge. I don't know whether it's the same now. Most people I knew went to Oxford because it seemed more of an easy bridge.