Christmas in London

I'm back I promise

Well, I'll admit. This month I have paid amount as much attention to this blog as I do to my studies at LSE. Very little. I will try and make up for it now. 

An update on my life: 

November has FLOWN by. I hit the 2 month mark two days ago and marveled at all I squeezed into the past couple weeks. I had my grandparents visit, watched the US election from abroad, traveled to Copenhagen for a weekend, and visited friends at St. Andrews (again). I wrote a few papers for school here and there, but school has been low on my list of priorities, as it should be when I am graded pass-fail. Also. Will is coming to visit today! And all of my family and friends arrive tomorrow!

A few signs that I had adjusted to life in London: 

1. I hate waiting in queues of any kind. London has made me lose all sense of patience. I move at warp speed pretty much all the time. I may or may not have developed a mild case of ADD. 

2. I am beginning to understand local dialect. Trousers mean pants, pants mean underwear. Knackered means tired. Cheers means thank you. And cheers in a toasting sense too. However, I am often too afraid to use these words in sentences, because a word like 'cheers' sounds so dowdy when I say it compared to a Brit. I did adopt a few phrases that I sneak into my everyday language without completely embarrassing myself, such as loads (I have loads of homework...not), ages (it has been ages since I've seen my family!), and my personal favorite, I can't be bothered.  I use that one a lot. 

3. I avoid Oxford Street unless it is an emergency, and if I have to go, I will go at an obscure time like Wednesday morning. The idea of herding through Oxford Circus between millions of people moving at the speed of a gimp snail frightens me. Topshop is pretty amazing, but I don't feel like sacrificing an arm and a leg for it. 

4. I watch the X Factor. This show is like the British version of American Idol but wayyyy better. Simon Cowell is a judge on this show as well, but he actually has talent to evaluate. The absence of Paula Abdul-on-painkillers is quite refreshing. X Factor is a typical Saturday night staple to my weekly entertainment diet. 

More updates to come soon. Got to prepare for my family visit. Can't wait to see them! 

The 4th of November

And speaking of November...GO VOTE. 

I will be watching the election on CNN in the Student Union bar until it closes at 4 am. And then I will wake up later in the morning to find out my new president and prepare to face either the wrath or joy of the rest of the world. 

And if its wrath...at least the red Starbucks cups come out on Wednesday. 

The 5th of November

A quick comparison of days used for fireworks displays in the US and the UK. Now based on my own personal experience. 

Name

US: Independence Day

UK: Guy Fawkes Day

Date

US: 4th of July

UK: 5th of November, but they have individual celebrations based on whatever day is most convenient for them (ie weekends)

Celebrates: 

US: Independence from the overbearing tea-drinking motherland

UK: The foiling of a plan for a group of Catholics (including Guy Fawkes) to blow up Parliament. So instead of fireworks in celebration, the fireworks represent what would have happened had the Catholics taken over the entire country. 

Time of Day

US: All day long

UK: Evening

Location

US: backyards, lakes, vacation houses

UK: communal squares

Weather

US: Sunshine, hot 

UK: Rain, cold

Food

US: Burgers, hot dogs, other grill food, watermelon

UK: Sausages, baked potatoes

Drink

US: Beer, beer, beer, and soda

UK: Mulled wine aka URINE

Attire

US: shorts, t-shirt, loads of sunscreen, Old Navy flag shirt, red white and blue

UK: raincoats and wellies (rainboots)

Activities

US: Contests, lawn games, fireworks

UK: Giant bonfire to burn "guy", huddling for warmth, feeble attempts at fireworks

Thank you mom and dad...

...for giving me a pronounceable name!

This morning I had my first accounting class. Because it was the first class, the teacher was required to take attendance. Usually, attendance is an easy task--shouting names of students, said students raise their hand. However, when the names are completely unpronounceable in the English language, attendance turns into a comedy of errors. So my poor teacher goes through the register, trying to correctly say names that only make sense in Asia and completely butchered every syllable in the process. 

The best part of it all is that a lot of the Asian students have come up with alternate names for themselves. Example:

Miss Morley: Yoo-yung-kai? Yo-yang-kae?

Student: I go by 'Danny'

Miss Morley: Dan?

Student: No, Danny. 

How he got 'Danny' from his real name is beyond me. This happened with almost every other Asian name, except for one girl who wanted to be called 'Yoo'. That might get confusing, she must respond to a lot of people she doesn't know. We also had an Elizabeth, Kevin, Brian, and Ken. It's like everyone took their names from Barbie's playhouse. 

When it got to my name in the middle of the list, she pronounced it correctly, and looked at me with a mixture of desperation and sarcasm and said, "do you go by Anna?" Lucky for her I do. 

PS I learned that my Williams nickname, "Momo", actually means 'peach' in Japanese!

Things I enjoy while living alone that I never dreamed I would enjoy...

1. Grocery shopping. Walking through the aisles with the intention of buying more than soda and junk food is quite delightful. In addition to the pasta/rice staples, I have started adding other cooking essentials like spices! Whether or not I use them is a different matter. 

2. Doing dishes. A messy sink is so ugly, especially when my room is small. A little clutter makes the very small kitchen surface look gross. So whenever the dishes go back on the shelf, it clears my sink and my mind.

3. Spraying all-purpose cleaner. Nothing is more satisfying than wiping a dirty surface with a paper towel and watching the dust particles disappear forever. 

4. Filtering water. I bought a water filter because I heard that the water in the UK was questionable. Seriously, one of my best purchases ever. Filtered water is to me like ambrosia nectar was to the Greek gods. I am well hydrated and enjoying every sip. 

5. Running to the 24 hour store. Unfortunately, I suffer from an addiction to chocolate. I try not to keep it in the room, but every once in a while, I hit an intense sugar low that can only be remedied by a three block walk to the local 24 hour store run by a nice group of Indian guys. They must think I am crazy because the only things I have bought from them are various kinds of Cadbury chocolate, rice crackers, and Hob Nobs (a delicious semi-healthy pack of British granola cookies). The only way I can justify this trip is by taking the four flights of stairs both directions. And the chocolate here is SO GOOD. 

I'm learning!

Victory!

A woman stopped me on the street and asked me how to get to St. Paul's Cathedral today. And I knew which way to go! ( I did have to get out my map...but only to show HER a visual)

Quiz Night

Tonight I was invited by my mother's childhood friend, Diana Phillips, to a charity event to benefit rehab for drug addicts in prison. The event was a quiz night--each table was a team of about 10 people and together we had to answer a total of 72 questions split into 6 rounds based on color themes (red, orange, yellow, etc). I was the youngest person at my table and recruited to fill the young American student pop culture niche. We finished 7th out of 40 and I hope that I had something to do with it. I was useless on every single British, historical, or literary question, but here are the questions that I answered right for my team.

1. What South American country exports the most copper? 

Chile! After spending the month of January in Santiago and logging numerous hours Wikipedia researching their economy, I would have kicked myself if I got that wrong. 

2. What Tube line is shown in yellow?

Because all of the civilized adults at the table probably had not taken the tube in a while, I was quick to jump in and say, "ooh, ooh, the Circle line!!!!". I knew this because I spend approximately 1/4 of every day staring at a map of London.  I am sure they would have gotten it without me but it was still exciting to say it first. 

3. In Harry Potter, what is the name of Albus Dumbledore's phoenix? 

This one took me a while. After the question showed up on the screen, every British person at the table looked to me for the answer (really people?!?! none of you know the story of your fellow countrymen!!) and I was SILENT. Will Moseley would have been ashamed of me. But finally, right before we had to hand in our answers for the round, I had a flashback to Richard Harris as Dumbledore explaining the life cycle of his bird...Fawkes. We rejoiced in my sudden memory return. 

4. In the "Orange" category, there was a question about the television show/soap the O.C. As soon as I heard that acronym, the question stood no chance against me. In the arms of which character did Marissa die in the series finale? Not only did I provide the right first name, Ryan, but I also provided the surname of Atwood. 

Now as I review my performance of the night, I feel like a big joke. I answered a question about Chile, the Tube, Harry Potter, and the O.C. So much for useful knowledge. I guess I could add the time when a man at my table asked why a question about an artistic photograph of Kate Moss related to the "Green" category. I knew that... " because moss is green!"

The Dreaded Question

Even though I have been in London for almost three weeks, I meet new people every day. When I meet these strangers, we exchange answers to a few standard questions in our first conversation--what's your name, how old are you, where do you go to school, what do you study, where are you living, and finally, the dreaded question, where are you from?

With fellow Americans, this question is easy. We trade the names of cities and then play the name-game suggesting people the other person might know. Usually that fails but it is still entertaining. With foreigners (and by foreigners, I mean foreign to me, because technically I am a foreigner here in London), I try to ask the question first, mostly because I am curious and haven't quite developed the accent-detection-and-origin-determination skill...yet. Anyway, the stranger tells me they are from another European country, somewhere in Asia, or a British city that I have never heard of and then I pretend to know where it is by nodding and saying 'ohhh great' so I don't seem ignorant. Then my new acquaintance reciprocates and asks me where I am from.

There are a couple of ways to answer this question and it depends on a variety of factors such as success of earlier conversation, their understanding of English, and their probability of being a communist. The safest and most basic way to answer is to say 'USA' or 'the States'. Sometimes they already know I'm from the US and ask where in the States I am from, in which case I respond sarcastically, 'how did you guess?'. If the other person seems fun and our conversation is going well, I might even joke and say in my best redneck voice 'good old amurrica' (this is rare). So at this point, the conversation goes one of two ways. The person smiles and says great and we continue talking. This is the preferred result. 

The other option: the person makes a face, usually a scowl, grimace, or glare, and finds an excuse to exit the conversation. I have only had to face this a few times, but I find these situations more ridiculous than offensive. And I usually laugh about them a few minutes later. 

Example 1- I was in an elevator with another student from my building. We shared the usual elevator pleasantries relating to our studies and the weather and then he asked me where I was from. I told him 'the States', and he literally said, "Oh, then I guess I can't be talking to you" and went silent. He then neglected the ladies first rule when we got out of the elevator and as we walked outside he immediately crossed to the other side of the street. Rude. I've seen him a few times since and he barely acknowledges me, but I think he might feel a slight twinge of guilt. 

Example 2- I was at our Athletic Union night, and a random guy came up to me to ask my name and where I was from. Over the loud music, I yelled, 'the States!'. He literally said, "Oh, I thought you were pretty until you said that", and walked away. Well mister, I never thought you were pretty. 

Bottom line: The dilemma of revealing my nationality affects my life every day. Whenever I open my mouth to a person from another country, I am susceptible to their snap judgments. I can only hope that they look at me and say, 'she doesn't really look like an impolite, McDonalds-fiending, gun-toting, mentally insane person'. Thank goodness Americans like other Americans here. British people are generally accepting of kids like me in their midst. Others are totally indifferent. Unfortunately, I've learned that some people are raised to hate the United States and any of its offspring. Maybe I should just say I am from Canada. 

COLLEGE/UNI

I am now in school mode and I find myself making comparisons between my first days of college and my first days of my year abroad. I want to share a few of the differences so those of you with children at school in the US will feel extremely grateful you did not choose a place in the United Kingdom. I did not want to generalize these examples for all US and UK schools, so I kept the comparisons to Williams-LSE only (even if some of the descriptions might function for all US and UK educational systems). 

Word for "University"

Williams: College

LSE: Uni, pronounced yoo-nee

Orientation Week

Williams: First Days aka Camp Williams. A week of outdoor trips and other orientation activities, campus tours, and lectures on adjusting to college life and the deplorable dangers of alcohol. 

LSE: Freshers Festival. Two weeks of activities ranging from brief induction meetings, sponsored pub crawls, park parties, club nights, and silent discos (?).

Induction Meetings

Williams: A formal celebration. Seniors put on robes. The headmaster of the school makes a speech about the upcoming year. Overall, a dignified ceremony governed by centuries of tradition.

LSE: I was forced to suffer through the new undergraduate meeting, where the administration explained to freshmen what college was like (been there, done that). Apparently, this year only counts for 1/9 of their college GPA so freshers (first-years) should take advantage of their surroundings...but they should still take the year "seriously". The meeting for my program just advertised all the travel options to explore and societies to join during our one year. 

New Student Party

Williams: A BBQ (probably inside our fieldhouse due to inclement weather) that might even have ice cream if the students are lucky. Parents are usually invited as the cherry on top of a sundae of self-consciousness. 

LSE: Stick all the new kids on a boat with an open bar to ride down the Thames River. 

Student Union/Student Center

Williams: The Paresky Center. An architectural feat according to my art history professor. The interior looks like a glorified ski lodge with a dining hall, snack bar, plenty of couch space and study areas, and a pub/grill that only serves beer/wine on weekends. Generally a very quiet space unless it is hosting a dance or musician (rare). 

LSE: The Student Union building. A dingy dark pub on the first floor and a big open cement space on the ground floor. Home to a bookstore, restaurant, two bars that are open every day of the week and a cafe that doubles as a student-night club on the weekends. I have gone in at 11 in the morning and seen a surprisingly large number of people having a pint before class. 

Sports

Williams: Winner of the Director's Cup eight years in a row. Sports practice five days a week, sometimes even six. Most do not allow alcohol consumption of any kind during the season. Both boys and girls teams are very competitive. Athletic facilities on site. 

LSE: I went to my first football (soccer) training (practice) on Sunday, well-prepared with my studs (soccer cleats) and pads (shin guards). Our pitch (field) is a 20 minute train ride away from the city. I showed up without playing soccer for the past three years and I was one of the few players who seemed able to kick with both feet. Women's sports are not taken seriously here at all. There is one women's football team and there are SEVEN men's football teams. Teams practice only once a week. ONCE. Also on the sports team schedules: every Wednesday is Athletic Union night at the Student Union bars. You would be considered a bad teammate if you did not go out drinking every Wednesday night. Even if, like me, you have Thursday 9 am lecture. On the upside, according to students here, lectures are optional. 

On more than one occasion, LSE has preached about their prestige in the international social science community. I have to laugh a little because for the level of seriousness about their academic reputation, their social customs indicate otherwise. I'm certainly not complaining about this contradiction. 

Aboard the London Eye

Here are some photos from my sunset trip on the London Eye ferris wheel. I felt like a five year old that just stepped into the Wonka candy factory, but instead, the factory was a space-age pod and the candy was a spectacular view of the city. Who needs chocolate when you can see this? The whole ride was SO PRETTY. Click the pictures to get a bigger view. 

Miscommunications

During my visit to John Lewis (the British version of an upscale Target) to buy sheets and pillows, I had my first huh? moment when someone was speaking to me in English. I was carrying a bunch of things in a basket and my arms were in a lot of pain. A male store employee came up to me and here is how our conversation went: 

Man: You know that basket has wills. 

Me: (looking at him quizzically) What?

Man: It has wills. 

Me: Excuse me? 

(Repeat above exchange a few more times)

Man: Here. 

He took my basket, put it on the ground, pulled a handlebar up from the side, and dragged it along demonstrating the utility of the WHEELS. 

Me: (said while incredibly red in the face) Ohhhhhh. Thanks! 

I seriously thought he was telling me that the basket had a will of its own and that I should be careful not to let it run away. 

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

My first couple days of this experience can be summarized by my recent modes of transportation. Planes, trains, and automobiles. And buses. And subways. And boats. The outcome of all this moving around? I am learning to embrace the journey as well as the destination. 

1. Planes--Anyone who knows my travel history understands my bad luck with airplanes. For some reason, I am always seated next to the person who...needs a seatbelt extension. So for the first time EVER, I had an entire two seats two seats to myself on my journey across the Atlantic. On the down side, a dinner imitation with rubber chicken. I ate the Oreos instead. 

2. Cars--Upon arrival, I was greeted by a cab driver who spoke little English. Great. He hauled my giant matching REI suitcases to the car and I instinctively got in on the right side to avoid the awkward sitting-right-behind-the-driver seat. To my surprise, the steering wheel was on the right side. I literally jumped, this was one aspect of British culture that all my guidebooks had failed to remind travelers like me. The car ride was even more disorienting-everywhere I looked I saw people on the wrong side of their cars on the wrong side of the road. 

3. My feet--On my first full day in London I walked about five miles. I was lost for about four of those miles. I blamed it on the whole change of road system thing combined with jet lag. In the process of losing myself, I did discover a little bit of the neighborhood surrounding my building. Within a five minute walk are two tube stops, two local grocery stores, three streets of jewelry stores (I'm talking serious bling, with giant security men standing out front), a handful of chain cafe/lunch places, a few pubs/bars, a KFC, a Subway and not just one Starbucks but three! I feel right at home. After getting lost in my area, I got lost on my way to the touristy Oxford Street and then again on my way home. Nothing wrong with getting lost, but it gets embarrassing pulling out a map at every intersection. I might as well wave an American flag over my head. Also, the British put their street signs in the most obscure places, so determining my location is like playing I-Spy with the neighboring buildings. Despite my recent troubles, I am slowly acclimating to London streets and can now successfully get to school, the Tube stops near me, and the gym without a map! Baby steps. 

4. Trains--This past weekend, I decided last minute to visit my friends at St. Andrews in Scotland. I had been in London for approximately 44 hrs before I left the country. I hopped on a Naional Express train at 10:30 am and got to Leuchars train station (a train station in the middle of a field) at 4 pm. My first lesson of trains: don't sit in a reserved seat. I sat down in an open seat when an old lady snapped at me that the seat was for her as she pointed to the slip of paper in the headrest. I thought it was a free coupon. Wrong. So I had to move across the aisle to a four-person-table arrangement. I cannot think of anything more uncomfortable, both physically and mentally. It is hard enough to sit next to some weirdo you don't know, but when they are in your line of vision the entire time, it becomes even more difficult. I glanced up and made awkward eye contact with my seat mates way too frequently, so I had to half smile and then pretend I was doing something else so I could look away. To my right was an Indian man who spent the entire ride reading medical books with grotesque pictures and interpreting his friend's dreams about snakes and overflowing toilets over the phone. Now I know that fat snakes mean family and skinny snakes represent enemies. A witchy-looking woman complete with warts and thick glasses that change color in the sunlight sat across from me and spent the whole ride itching herself and re-applying lotion to the places she scratched. I prayed whatever she had wasn't contagious. To my diagonal was a Scottish guy who in the course of the ride, ate a placemat sized bar of Cadbury chocolate and a party size bag of Doritos. He was also reading what appeared to be porn and tabloids, which I later found out was the newspaper! My companions on the ride home were slightly more pleasant--a group of 30 something women and their moms who were still drunk from the night before and spent the ride getting more drunk, popping pills, and laughing hysterically about their weekend antics. Trains are GREAT for peoplewatching. 

5. Tube--I am in love with the Tube. In love. It is fast, easy, and also insanely expensive. 

6. Bus--I got on my first bus yesterday. The double-deckers are fun and I feel like I'm in a movie when I ride them. Almost as easy as the Tube. The two catches. Catch 1: even if I am at a bus stop, I must wave my arm in the air like a flailing idiot to signal the bus to stop. Catch 2: While on the bus, I have to press the "Stop" button before my intended endpoint otherwise the bus does not...stop.

7. Boat--My school put on a boat party for all of the students in the Junior Year Abroad program. They locked approximately 300 of us on a boat for 4 hrs and we cruised down the Thames so our only options for entertainment were introducing ourselves to random people and hitting up the open bar. Now that we are all of legal age to drink, the dean of my program actually encouraged us all to partake. Would that have happened at Williams? Absolutely not. 

I have been moving around a lot. It is a fast paced life here in London and I intend to try and keep up!

My First Post

Hello everyone!

I have selfishly created my first-ever blog with the intention of keeping you all updated during this new and exciting time on my life. No, I am not getting married, having a child, or retiring. This year, I will be a student the London School of Economics and Political Science (please mock me) and will be living in central London. This is obviously an enormous departure from my modest college upbringing at Williams College in the rural village of Williamstown, MA. Well, maybe not so much academically (again, mock me, please), but the location and cultural change is about as crazy as driving on the left side of the road. So, the purpose of this blog, the mission statement, if you will: inform you readers on all details of my new exhilarating life, share the strange things British people do (and laugh at them), share the embarrassing things that I do (and laugh at them), confirm my continued existence, and hopefully, entertain you all a little bit in the process. And now, my first use of a British term, cheers!