On Living Elsewhere

"Ohmigod, I HATE how I don't know any of the brands here. Everything is different. It's SO annoying," someone said to me.

And this illustrates why some people will not make the most of this experience studying abroad. If small differences frustrate you, perhaps you shouldn't put yourself in the midst of a different culture for a number of years.

At first glance, living in English culture doesn't seem like that much of a stretch for an American. We speak the "same" language, and live in what appears to be very similar ways. But I have found that our two cultures are unexpectedly different. Being a fashion designer I think of it like shopping for fabric. From a distance, satin is satin is satin. But touch the satin, and you'll find the fibers in the fabrics are completely different.

In the week that I've lived here, I have already found that the differences between our cultures are many, and often subtle. But the words and lifestyle often seem deceptively similar, and it is easy to forget that I am living in an entirely different culture over here.

So I suppose there is a tiny bit of culture shock happening for my room mates and I. But unlike my room mate who likes to complain about it, I am having the best time with it! I am really enjoying this opportunity to observe Brits in their natural habitat and learn from these creatures that are so similar to my own species.

Before I left the states I was terribly nervous that I would appear to be one of those stupid, ignorant American tourists. But luckily I haven't found that to be much of a problem. In fact today I even gave directions to two English women. Go me!

When I woke up this morning it was beautiful and sunny. Inspired by this rare California-style heat, I decided to expand my knowledge of the local-ish neighborhood. I wandered down to Brick Lane and walked all the way up to Commercial Street where I meandered up and down the various streets and alleys in the area until I noticed shops were closing up. My afternoon revealed two local fabric stores (yeay!), a number of restaurants I absolutely must try, two of the most incredible vintage shops I've ever been to (and I have been to many), three contenders for the "Local Comfy Coffee Shop" title, and most importantly that I don't come across as an American who doesn't want to be here.

Listening to the Dock of the Bay

The song of the day is Otis Redding's "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay". I happened to overhear someone playing it out of an open window as I walked home this afternoon. Smiling, I paused to listen. The afternoon rain had just stopped, the soft wind was blowing my hair into my face, and I was perfectly warmed in my wool jacket as I listened to a song about my other city, San Francisco.

Filthy MacNasty

I haven't posted pictures in a long time, and I happened to snap this on Sunday, my first day of wandering around aimlessly. It made me giggle.

Ripped

Apparently I live mere streets away from several of the sites where Jack the Ripper disemboweled his feminine victims. My afternoon discovery came by accident when my flatmate and I ducked into an alleyway so she could adjust her skirt, and I noticed a little placket on a brick wall that detailed the grisly death of a prostitute at the hands of Jack.

I love my neighborhood all of a sudden.

Arrived and Settling In

To think that three days ago I was sitting on a plane, sure that my life was over...

And now I reside in a little town called London. You might have heard of it.

It's only been two days since I arrived and already I feel comfortable in this city. Lost, but comfortable. But when I arrived at Heathrow on Saturday morning I was MISERABLE. If I could add more emphasis to that word I would. I was beyond exhausted but knew I needed to stay up until 9pm to help adjust to the time zone difference. I was so depressed and terrified that the space in my stomach where food would normally go was filled with a giant knot, and more than anything I wanted to turn around and go home once I saw the hole of a room that would be my home for the next year.

But sleep solves most problems. And I woke up to a sunny Sunday morning feeling alive and ready to take on the city around me. I dressed (which was surprisingly saddening since so much of my clothing reminds me of my boyfriend), grabbed a tube map I'd gotten the day previous, and set out to meet my aunt at Kings Cross.

I navigated the usual weekend fiasco on the underground (every weekend some part of several different lines shut down for electrical work, making travel a bit more exciting on your days off), and found myself sitting on an empty train car smiling to myself. "Holy shit," I thought, "I LIVE in London now." Then the doors clunked closed and the metallic ca-chunk of the trains moving distracted me from my thoughts, but didn't wipe the smile from my face.

The first thing I noticed when I arrived at Kings Cross was that I felt a comforting familiarity flow through me. When I was in Cambridge last year I took the train into Kings Cross every day I came to London, and it's one of the few places in this city that I know my way around very well. And when I saw my aunt, I felt like I had a little pocket of family and safety only an hour away.

She and I had breakfast (soft boiled egg and toast for me) before wandering through housewares stores with beautiful over-designed items that I very much want. Looking at all the pretties around me, I realized that making my dorm room feel like a home was going to be a slow, fun process. And in realizing that, the room quite suddenly became more livable. The horrible ill-fitting sheets that came with my bed, the horrible yellow lighting, the nasty blue carpet, the discomfort of the tiny bathroom..... these were no longer problems I couldn't solve. In fact I look forward to solving them.

I spent the evening in our ill-equipped kitchen, chatting it up with my new international flatmates (one of whom is incredibly cool) while sharing a bottle of cheap red wine.

Today was equally exciting because it was Monday! YEAY! Monday meant that I could finally go about getting all those basic things done, like finding a top-up mobile phone to get me around while I price-shop for a good contract phone. And going to my school to finalize my paperwork. And opening up my first London bank account. And buying a SUPER comfy robe to keep me warm in the mornings. And to stare at all the incredible boots in the window of Office on Oxford street. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. Hold. Me. Back..... No wait, don't.

I ate lunch in a cafe this afternoon so I could write down some thoughts to share here. I recalled having a dream about shopping for clothes with Dustin Hoffman, and trying to find a good belt and tie for him. Which has nothing to do with anything, but I thought it was funny and wanted to remember it. I also wrote that I wish I could have trusted that I would feel this way when I arrived in London. Upon departure, I was so sure my life was ending; so sure that I would suffer horribly and live a lonely life of sadness for the next three years. Part of me knew that wasn't true, but I was so sad in those last days in SF that it was hard to see beyond that.

I guess I've been writing a lot to sort out my thoughts in these past two days. And looking over the writing now, it seems I end each entry by saying "I am okay," when I feel alright, or brave. Today I ended my last entry by saying, "I am okay. And soon, I will be better than okay- soon I will be good."