Back in the US of A

Well, my wonderful semester abroad has come to a close.
I arrived back into the US on Saturday, and I already miss London. I've already noticed some little differences since coming back - everyone here is "right" centric. All of the doors are opened on the right, and people walk down streets on the right. People even circle the grocery store in the opposite direction than in England! (It's weird to think that I've subconsciously picked up these "left" centric habits while abroad, and that I'm only realized it when everyone else moved in the opposite direction.)

To show how at home I was becoming - after going to the pub quiz at ISH for many weeks, Andi and I finally placed second, winning £10 for our knowledge of British culture and general knowledge. I've made a list in my head of my favorite pubs and spots in the city, and have recommendations for anyone who is going to London. I've ranked all of the major parks in/around London. I even miss reading the London Evening Standard when I catch the tube from class!

On a personal side - this semester has been great for my health. Since the city is so expensive, especially with the exchange rate, I barely went out to eat. England doesn't really use preservatives, which makes the food last shorter, but makes it healthier. I also didn't always want to use the buses to get around, so I clocked around 20 miles of walking each week. All together, I was burning calories and intaking healthy food. I'm feeling good.

My last days abroad were relatively uneventful, as I was studying for my finals and finishing off essays. However, on the last nights, our entire program bonded together through both studying and preparing to say goodbye to the semester. I can't wait for next year because I have a bunch of new friends that I haven't seen yet in College Park. For the last night, we all went out to a club in Piccadilly (Tiger Tiger), and I stayed up to watch the sunrise in Regent's Park. Our celebration had a sense of finality to it - when people left back to their flats, we hugged goodbye because we realized that our magical time was over. While I will see a lot of the people on this trip later on, the setting will be completely different. But no matter where we all end up, we'll always have London.

The Humdrum London Life

Since returning on my trip across Europe, I have settled back into the London lifestyle.
Literally after getting off the plane from Venice, I felt at home again. Waiting in line at customs, we ran into other UMD students returning from their travels. We were an hour away from London, but were still local enough to encounter people we knew. Took a bus to Baker Street and arrived to the flat around 2am. Dropped my bags and gave my bed a great bear-hug.

I've spent enough time here now that I've got a great sense of the area. Everyday when I walk to class, I pass the same construction workers, give a head nod to the guy who always holds the traffic signs, and catch the same train on the Tube. Not only have I figured out how the public transportation works, I've got a routine. I'm no longer a lost tourist - I live here. People ask me for directions, and I don't hesitate to answer (Buckingham Palace, you say? I recommend you take the Westminster stop to see Big Ben, and have a nice walk through St. James' Park.)

A funny thing that's happened since I've come back - London has started to live up to the stereotype. It's rained almost every single day for the last 10 days. I guess the drought was too good to be true, and now the clouds are catching up for lost time. One unfortunate component of being familiar in the city is that things aren't as novel. I don't try to plan trips to go see some museum or monument, because I've already seen them! London just feels like "another place" to be in.
Until I get down to the Thames. It always is a sharp reminder that I'm not an a few hour away from my hometown.

As the semester winds down, I am being piled on with work again. I'm glad that I had the tourist experience already, because I would regret not having enough time to do it now otherwise. The majority of my time recently has been work-related, and little exploration.

Went to a pub quiz last Tuesday. Got third to last, but was only separated by 6 questions from the winner. The first time we went, we got second to last (what a shame for the last team - we didn't know a thing about British pop culture!), so we're slowly working up the ranks. I predict victory in only..10 weeks. Too bad I only have 3. (oh dear lord, has time really flown by so quickly?)

Culture - What is it?

I have returned from my whirlwind two week trip of Europe!

Cities visited: Barcelona, Milan, Catania, Rome, Venice

I've talked about my time in Barcelona a little bit, but to summarize – I loved the casual atmosphere, the wonderful weather and location, and can't wait to go back again.

I went to Milan for a day and a half, and even that felt a little too long. The main tourist area was the Duomo, which I covered in a few hours. However, I did befriend a local restaurant, and we talked about where I was from (Washington DC, since it's the most recognizable thing from Maryland) in stilted Italian and English. Milan had a strong tourist presence, so people were quite open in trying to speak English with me. However, this changed as I moved to my next location.

I took a 20 hour train ride from Milan to Catania, effectively covering the entire length of Italy. I was in a car with an Italian couple, and neither of us were able to converse. All communication resulted in charades. They seemed quite friendly. In the morning, the train was put on a ferry and we arrived in Messina just after the sun rose. The train wound its way down the Sicilian coastline, passing lemon groves and beaches. It was beautiful. By that point, I was alone in the car, so for the last few hours of my travel, I had my head practically out the window. I caught up with my friends in Catania, and began the second half of my spring break. For the first week, I scraped by with rudimentary Spanish and Italian, and having little plans. I would wake up, point at the map and decide to go wherever my finger landed. The second week, we all had to be a little more accommodating to fit everyones' plans.

Catania was not a big tourist area, so we had to rely on our Italian much more. As the week went by, I definitely picked up some phrases (“Scusi, Grazie, Tutto, Si” etc.). The main struggle for me was to not speak in Spanish, as they are so similar, that I can't separate them in my head. Oh well.

There are a lot of things I could talk about what I did over the week, but one of the most poignant things that will stick with me was when we went to Taormina for a day. You had to take a cable car from the bus station to the beach, and on our return trip up the hill, we were in the car with an Italian family. We were talking amongst ourselves, and the father turns to us and says (paraphrased roughly) “Americans? No culture. You only have McDonalds, Burger King and Coca Cola.”

To be honest, we were so in shock (and his accent took a second to understand) we didn't know what to say. But it really put a sour note on the rest of our stay in Sicily, and little bit of Rome. As rudeness goes, that's possibly one of the most insulting things I've heard. He effectively said “everything you do, have done, or ever will do is stupid and had no value.” On the bus ride home, and whenever we had some down time, my mind would always come back to what he had said.

At first, I felt shaken because when I thought about it, I couldn't figure out if he was right. I mean, he was factually correct, we do have McDonalds, Burger King and Coca Cola. But what was “American” culture? It's such a notoriously diverse country that you can't generalize our culture. I couldn't ascribe what my beliefs and traditions were to a larger scale, so maybe we really don't have an sort of identity that all Americans can agree with. (Man, if only this had happened earlier, I would have had so much to say during that online discussion on culture). As I became more distanced from the conversation, I realized that Italy has adopted quite a lot of American culture. There is a great irony for an Italian to mock the lack of culture in America while wearing a Nike tracksuit. But I still felt that was a petty victory for me, so I continued to reflect deeper. (I'm not getting into the pedantic fact that Americans have “no culture”. By definition, everyone who has grown up in any society has culture at some level). Looking around at the people walking by while we sat in cafes, I noticed that everyone was very similar. The hairstyles, clothes and other obvious external features were uniform. People go to cafes for hours to talk with the locals. With these basic observations, I can almost agree with his poorly-formed thesis. Italy, in contrast to the US, has a very well defined culture. Their traditions are much more prevalent and strongly followed, and therefore by his definition “Italy has culture.”

The diversity of America, and the difficulty in defining American culture is a component of the culture itself! Just amongst my friends I was traveling last week, we all had different tastes in clothes, hair, music, books, religion – pretty much anything that could be put as a subset of culture. Just because the culture is more amorphous or liberally-spread, it doesn't mean that doesn't exist.

To culminate my reassurance that I had some sort of culture (whatever that word means, anyway), I went to meet my friends' uncle in Rome. He lived in Rome for the year studying at the American Academy in Rome. (If you don't know what that is, look it up, read about it, and be amazed).

To be honest, it was one of the most eye-opening things I've seen before. It makes me want to take back all of the times I had described something as “incredible” “amazing” and other superfluous words, so that I could use them now for greater effect. He is a landscape architecture who is able to brush shoulders with poets, composers, musicologists, classicists and many other renowned people of their field. As we sat at lunch, he would talk about his work and who was sitting nearby. I felt as though this was the equivalent of going back to the 1920's and drinking with Fitzgerald, Hemingway and all of the artists of the time. The Academy is an intellectual haven that I hadn't realized could still exist. So sum up, one of the most famous grounds for cultural and intellectual genius to flourish in Rome, the capital of Italy – is American.

Thoughts From Places: Barcelona

This week is the first week of my spring break.
Last week, I had a lot of deadlines for work to meet, so I didn't have too much fun exploring London. Luckily, I have the time now!

I flew to Barcelona on Sunday morning, and will be here until tomorrow. I booked my flight here on Friday, so this entire week is complete improvisation. I don't know when I'm going to go tomorrow - I just have to be in Sicily on Saturday to meet up with friends. The lack of a schedule, and lack of my surroundings is really invigorating. Unlike London, where I was familiar with before arriving, I had no idea what Barcelona is like.
I flew into Girona Airport and took an hour bus ride to Barcelona. And while it may sound stupid to say, Spain is completely different from England. It's like it's a different country or something. The ride brought me through farmland with rustic terracotta houses. While there is countryside in England, it is not farmland and is covered in hedgerows. I noticed some graffiti on some abandoned farmhouses saying "Catalonia Spain", which is pretty indicative of the sentiment of the area. (Look into the distinction between Catalonia and Spain and the history - quite interesting).
Upon arrival to the city at 1pm, I grabbed my bags and headed off in a random direction. I had to check into my hostel at 4pm, so I had some time to explore. The weather here is fantastic - sunny and 68 degrees. I walked by many outdoor seating areas for restaurants, full with people clearly enjoying the outdoors. While I'm obviously in a city, it somehow feels like it is a quiet village.

The stereotype of Spanish "calmness" is quite prevalent. People move around without a rush, and the food service is much slower. Not that I don't like it, it's just a marked difference from London. I went on a tour yesterday around the Gothic section of Barcelona, and I could hear the pride the tour guide had of the area. Saint Maria del Mar (A massive, beautiful cathedral) was built in 54 years - quite quickly for a cathedral of that size. She pointed this out to compare it to how long other buildings in the area took to construct, noting "We're in Spain, so it makes sense" when it took over 100 years for another cathedral. This sort of liberality with time is quite a crucial component with the area. I woke up this morning around 7am to the sunrise, and found that the street were almost completely empty. The only other people moving around were tourists as well.

I still haven't seen a lot of the businesses near my hostel, because they are quite frequently closed. Some cafes open from 9-11, then close until 5pm. I don't know how they can make money with those hours, but somehow they do.

For the first time on this semester, I've encountered something that is out of my previous comfort level. I'm surrounded by people speaking Spanish or Catalan, and I don't frequently hear English. My Spanish is quite rudimentary, so I feel a bit isolated. Because I've never been here before, I stare at the map for quite a while to figure out what direction I want to head next. But there is something exhilarating by traveling alone, having no set plans, and being completely anonymous in a city. I literally woke up this morning and decided to stay in the city for another day instead of hopping on a bus or train to another city. The lack of responsibility is fantastic, especially compared to last week when I had multiple essays and presentations to do. I suppose you need the lows to fully enjoy the highs.


Some Things I saw yesterday:
La Rambla
Parc de la Ciutadella
La Pedrera
Saint Maria del Mar
Carrera d'Avinyo
Barcelona School of Fine Arts (Picasso)
Piccasso's art school
SPACE INVADER paste
Banksy stencil
Placa de George Orwell (aka Placa Tripi - previously notorious for addicts)
2000 year old walls of the original city
Placa St Felip Neri (Spanish Civil War)
Cathedral de Saint Eulalia

In Which I Feel a Bit Foolish

As the title says, I feel a little bit foolish.
I went on a hike yesterday around Battle (as in Battle of Hastings) with my Hiking club. As I was saying in previous posts, I was really looking forward to becoming more involved in my club, so that I could start to meet British people and branch out. I've been to some of their social events earlier, and was a little disappointed that a lot of the members were international students.
Yesterday, I got up at 6am, got on the coach at 8am and started talking with some fellow hikers. The first couple I talked to were from outside Philadelphia, and were literally from rivals of my high schools. I've encountered this pretty frequently, I've met people who are friends with some of my best friends back home without even trying. At this point, it's almost unnatural to not meet someone who has an inkling of other people that I know. A bit frustrating, as I'm a quarter of the world away from home and still am surrounded.

2 hours later, we arrive in Battle and being to hike. We cut through the back of a churchyard, and enter the fields. I haven't hiked for a while, and I felt like I was struggling on the hills. After the first 20 minutes, I remembered that hiking is maybe one of my best skills, and subsequently dominated.
We meandered through many fields where unknown plants (tiny grassy shrub things? probably carrots, I don't know) were being grown. Since we were in the countryside, we literally ran into every kind of farm animal. Horses, chicken, geese, donkeys, dogs, the works. It was so relieving to wander through the fields, getting muddy and damp from the rain. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed of the outdoors - London is huge, but it's urban. The only grass I see there is in the manicured lawns of Regents Park.

We ended up walking on a field which was labeled "Airplane Crossing Footpath" much to our amusement. As we continued crossing, we realized that it was a grass runway. Very quaint. For the last 45 minutes of the hike, the rain steadily increased, and conversations diminished. This was my place to shine - I love the rain, and I've hiked through all weather types before. I ended up leading the group up and down muddy hills for a while until we hit the main road back to town.
Total mileage - about 7 miles in 3 hours.

Back in town, we had 3 hours to wander until our coach left. I separated from the group to explore - I love walking around effectively anonymously in an unknown town to observe people. Battle is a tiny town, but is steeped in history. The Abbey in the center of the town is a remnant of the aftermath of the Battle of Hastings. The high altar was placed King Harold was killed during the battle.
After walking around for an hour alone, I met back up with some of the group and had tea in the Pilgrim's Rest. The place was built in 1420, and is an authentic inn/lodging. Incredible.

Resting by the fire, we all got talking about our lives.
Back to my foolishness - This entire time I've been looking for the "real" experience of London and England. Whenever I talk to anyone from America, I feel like I'm wasting my time (not really, everyone has been lovely) by not conversing with the locals. During our discussion, I figured out that of the group of 9, only one was actually from England. Our group was comprised of Canadians, Dutch, French, Finnish, Chinese, and Argentinians - that's when it hit me.

I'm living in London. The city is notoriously international and diverse. I was talking with people who were from all over the world, living in London for school (mostly Masters degrees) and all had their own story to tell. Instead of living in the countryside where the "real" English live, I'm surrounded by a diversity. If I was in a smaller town, the culture may be easier to define, but also much easier to get bored of. With a city as dynamic as London, I can go to different boroughs and encounter completely different styles of life. There isn't a true English feel, because it's not entirely English. New York City is not fully representative of the US, but it does contain Americans.

So upon reflection of the conversation, I began to feel foolish. I didn't know exactly how to define my expectations of this semester excursion, and so I felt pressure that I was doing it incorrectly. But now I know that I'm definitely not.

The RAF and Intelligence

I went for a walk around the Royal Courts of Justice earlier in the week. That area is amazing. The Royal Courts are used for civil cases (criminal cases are at the Old Bailey), and there are always news vans outside for any live coverage. My professor recommended that we go in to watch a court proceeding at some time. I find it quite interesting that something that I would probably find boring in the US, sounds novel and enjoyable in London. I've walked by the BBC building every week, and I always see people lining up with tickets to go to live tapings of different televisions shows. And once again, I'm interested in going even though I probably wouldn't back home. But I digress.

Near the court is Australia House (representative of Australia in British soil - an embassy, from what I can tell). I wanted to pop in, as I heard that the scenes of Gringotts Bank from Harry Potter was filmed there, but I got distracted by an amazing church. St. Clement Danes is a church right next to the Royal Courts that is the Central Church of the Royal Air Force. It was originally founded back in the 10th century, and then rebuilt in the 1680s century by Christopher Wren after the Great-Fire-of-London-rebuilding-frenzy Wren had. During WWII, the church was bombed (May 10th,1941) (You could still see the shrapnel in the walls! Is that weird to find that incredible?) and rebuilt once again in 1958.
Interestingly, the church received funds from families of the RAF - it became a central hub for RAF related facts of interest. The interior is covered in crests honoring the RAF, and other air forces who fought with them in World War 2. There are books filled with names of airmen who were killed during their missions from the US, Poland, and Britain. Look up the story of Polish Airmen - it's astounding. I can't summarize it well, nor will I have all of the pertinent facts.
The crypt has plaques to the Danish (?) Underground civilians who were killed helping downed pilots return to England. I struggle to imagine the situation they were put in, and actively worked to fight against. (Ditto with the Polish. And everyone else alive during that time.) Having been defeated and occupied by German forces, instead of being obsequious, people decided to rebel. Reading about and witnessing evidence of it raises so many questions. How did ordinary people organize an underground spy network to undermine an organized military? How strong they must have been! A point that I keep belaboring, but still not enough - people are amazing.

Outside are the statues of Sir Arthur Harris (bombing of Dresden) and Hugh Dowding (Battle of Britain) and Samuel Johnson. Yes, the first two men did much more than just those two things, but once again, this post isn't about their life story. Look it up! Learn!
Over to Samuel Johnson and speaking of intelligence! (Get it? Maybe.) The area is full of old pubs such as the George, Cheshire Cheese and Devereux Chambers (now a law firm). The pubs used to host the intellectuals of London of different eras, including Samuel Johnson, Mark Twain, Alfred Tennyson, Charles Dickens, W.B. Yeats, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Sir Isaac Newton. So in short, I geeked out about all of them.
After seeing the tribute to the RAF, and being inspired by ordinary people, to move on to seeing local hangout spots of some intellectual heavyweights, I felt that I had reached my capacity of amazement that day. Imagine walking barely 100 yards and encountering completely different aspects of London's history. If I hadn't done some prior reading and scoping of the area, I would have missed all of the subtle beauty of the area. It makes me wonder whether people who have lived here long term don't know what they're missing. I also wonder what sort of history (I'm sure it's not as nuanced or old) I'm missing back at home.


Fun fact- in the novel 1984, Winston Smith sees a picture of St. Clement Dane (not specified, but we all know it's supposed to be) and is told how it once stood in the area in front of the Palace of Justice (Royal Courts of Justice, anyone?) before being demolished in the revolution.

Embankment and the Human Experience?

For my History Class this week, we walked around near Embankment. For those not in the know, Embankment is a Tube stop right near the Thames. In fact, the name "embankment" is because the area is an artificial bank over the Thames. In 1862, Embankment was built by architect Joseph Bazalgette. This was installed to create a sewer system for London, which in turn narrowed the Thames River. By shrinking the width of the river, the current became deeper and flowed quicker, which changed the topography of London from then on.
From the1608 to 1814, Frost Fairs were held occasionally on the frozen Thames during the winter. Because the water flowed so slowly, it was able to freeze and solidify enough for people to open a marketplace and hold celebrations. With the reconstruction of London Bridge and the development of Embankment, the Thames' current increased and was no longer likely to freeze over again. It's amazing to how our involvement and development can alter nature. Looking across the Thames, seeing London Eye and Westminster Palace and other iconic buildings of the skyline, it's breathtaking.
I never lived in a city before this semester; I lived in the countryside when I was young and suburbs more recently. The swell of people moving all around at all times of the day, having their own individual dreams and plans they are trying to fulfill is just amazing. I remember one of my first "epiphanies" was that everyone has their own story, and London is the best example I've found. I walked around Embankment with my class, appreciating the majestic buildings and old churches - but I was more appreciative of the experience in of itself.
We cut through the "Legal" District of London near Lincoln's Inn and was immediately transported back into a different world. Barristers and Solicitors walked around with their subfusc on, wigs in the windows. The park area was isolated from the city completely, it was almost silent. Old men walked in suits, putting their tattered briefcases in their extravagant cars. I felt completely out of my element - there was no way we blended in. I found myself wondering whether or not even they took their pomp and tradition seriously. Either way, it was an incredible experience to witness another component of a life I have never seen, nor will live.