The Observer, September 29, 2006
Volume XXXIX, Issue 5
Student studying in London explores culture, surroundings
An American Abroad
I step out of the elevator and say "hello" to my middle-eastern concierge. My head rises up and I glance and see a pub across from my flat. For a non-drinker, I oddly enough seem to see a lot of Pubs here. One to two pubs are almost on every street, even residential ones. They are unlike American bars in their overt aesthetic appeal, complete with big golden letters, or eighteenth-century styled decorations. I make a left and weave through workers unloading new merchandise into the back of the busy Woolworth's department store. I continue past The Windsor, which serves Thai food, and begin feeling security within the surroundings of my new neighborhood.
I came here to study at the British-American Drama Academy, but have learned many other lessons as well from merely studying in a foreign country. By simply being here, I am undergoing a process of cultural immersion. Despite the many cultural and linguistic similarities between America and England, I find myself experiencing culture shock from doing everyday things, such as figuring out how to use a British can-opener, and turning the volume down on the television. One of the times that I observe the most differences, is during this walk, as I experience every-day life with my fellow Londoners.
The clouds are gray and seem to enclose the whole city. I walk along a tiny, thin sidewalk next to a local pub, The Duke of Windsor, careful to dodge the cars as I walk in this land where motorists do in fact have the right of way. The air is clean and without the usual pungent smells of a city, let alone a large city. Municipal workers are about all morning cleaning up the sidewalks, even sweeping them as I pass by. The people that I pass along the street vary greatly.
An elderly woman stares in front of her as she struggles along- her formal attire and pearl necklace are reminders of a former and more stereotypical England. School children are everywhere, walking in their diverse and sometimes peculiar uniforms. Plaids, ties, school crests, jackets, nineteenth-century styled hats, and shin-length skirts are seen amongst the youth of London. At the same time I spot a young girl with a mullet-styled spiked haircut, wearing sneakers, leggings, and a short skirt. Veiled Muslim women can be seen from across the street, their long black robes causing them to almost seem to be hovering above the ground. They are all Londoners.
The order of the day is busy, and even hectic. This is observed mostly within the intense traffic that almost always seems to be bordering on violence. The dean of my acting conservatory said that several students had been killed in traffic accidents in the past. Horns blare as I walk-Londoners love to lay their hands upon their horns for as long as they can. People crowd onto these small, inadequate, old-fashioned sidewalks as they try to dodge angry drivers. Surprisingly, I have almost never heard the words "excuse me" and "sorry". The London of 2006 is not the London in Mary Poppins.
I adjust my money-belt underneath my clothing so that its presence is less obvious. Pick-pockets are common here. Cell-phone muggings are also an occurrence, and I make sure that mine is within my belt, out of sight of anyone who would want to harm me for it. I turn right onto Gloucester Place and recognize a familiar old English gentlemen coming out of his town house for what looks to be a casual walk. He exemplifies the older generation's echoes to the past with his suit, tie, umbrella, and kind directions to my bus stop.
As I make my way to the bus, I find myself feeling more and more like a Londoner. The neighborhoods are finally becoming familiar to me, and my mind is starting to do funny things, such as seeing items in terms of pounds and not dollars, as well as accidentally speaking in a slightly English accent at various odd times. I get onto the bus and soon stop in a neighborhood of Regency-era homes in Regent's Park on the west side of London in Westminster.
My school, 14 Gloucester Gate awaits me as I hurry excitedly across several busy intersections. I have completed yet another commuting trip, and have become more comfortable in a once strange place so far from home.
