Welcome to London
It’s hard to encompass every new feeling and experience into one small blog post. London is so grand, a city filled with dynamic people and incredible culture in which even the grocery stores and gas stations aren’t familiar. I was immediately struck by my own ignorance in every aspect, and so instead of trying to explain the entirety of my culture shock, which in all honesty still happens even three weeks in, I have chosen to describe my very first encounter with the people of England- the flight over.
The first thing I noticed was how friendly all the flight attendants were, how they looked at me when I refused wine and how pretty I found the accent of the woman sitting next to me. I was immediately struck with awe at the change in how I felt I needed to act, in how I felt guilty for my typical “standoffishness” that keeps me safe from conversations on the airplane. I was so used to giving one-word answers, to sleeping through questions of what I wanted to drink, of blending into the mass of people around me that I was shocked at their attentiveness, friendliness. I also found myself incredibly aware of my American accent, as it was no longer the default. Now, opening my mouth meant revealing my identity, alerting everyone to my foreign nature. I was so curious, turning down my music just to hear the conversation between attendant and passenger, exchanging niceties despite the early hour of the morning.
I was too scared to order tea because I didn’t know what kind was typical to get and I didn’t want to seem too out of touch with a culture I did not know much about. I found, during this flight, that it was in my nature to want to fit in, and yet here this was not an option. I didn’t fit in, with my bright clothes contrasting their all black and my habits differing so greatly from their own.
All these differences between myself and the culture around me still have not changed- every restaurant I walk into the waiter asks where I’m from, every bus ride someone around me gives me a look when I open my mouth. It’s strange, being different, but it is not a bad thing. While sitting on the plane, preparing for this next journey that could be terrifying, I found myself completely at peace with all this change. And whether this was because I was delirious with the lack of sleep or just in shock at my situation, is up to interpretation. All I know, is that even 3 weeks after landing in London, I am still in absolute awe of every street each time I walk down it. There is beauty in standing out, beauty in being the outsider, beauty in learning the subtle differences between the two of us. It’s a beautiful world after all.
