SamanthaK's blog

I can’t believe it has almost been 4 months since I arrived in London this January.  It seems like this semester has flown by as I adjusted to life in a new city, made new friends, travelled throughout Europe, and kept busy with so much more.  And now, with finals looming over me, and my time in London growing to a close all I can think is “can this really be ending?”

This is the longest amount of time I have ever spent away from home let alone out of my native country.  And at times it may have been hard for both my close-knit family, and me, yet, I think it has helped me gain more independence and confidence in being on my own.  I am the first person in my family to have ever studied abroad, but I really hope I am not the last.   I think being on my own, without the prospect of taking a bus back to my home in Pennsylvania where my family resides, times was a little more than intimidating, but I have begun to overcome that fear and the separation has also helped me to make a new home here in London.

Now the roles seem to have changed, and leaving is going to be harder than staying in London, my home of the last 4 months.  I am not leaving till the 21st and I am already having fits of nostalgia for all the wonderful things I have done here.

It’s going to be hard to leave my family of friends here, the friendly atmosphere of Bloomsbury, the history of the city of London, and my room in Byron Court where all my friends live down the hall, downstairs or across the room. Even so, more than being sad about leaving I am proud of everything I have accomplished this semester. 
Between staying on top of my schoolwork, cooking and cleaning for myself and making new friends, I have managed to travel throughout Europe, volunteer, and explore London and England and the history they hold. I know that when I go back to the U.S.A. I will look back on this experience as an amazing time, but also an important accomplishment in my life.

Don’t get me wrong, it will be great to get back to certain comforts of America, the familiarity and the things that I really miss there (like the U.S. Dollar, the exchange rate is definitely something I won’t miss from here). But London you will always have a piece of my heart!

See you soon Amurica! X

Image: Earlier in the year we hosted an American-themed party to celebrate the things we missed the most, some friends and I found these "classy" American Pride Sweaters in a chain store here!

Upon arriving in London I had already decided that I wanted to be a huge tourist and see as much as I could in the time I planned on being here.  So my first tip to readers is take advantage of the fact that you are in a different country from the beginning, don’t put off seeing every great monument, museum, show, market, or place to the last month of your abroad experience.

Take advantage of all the resources they have to offer! I was surprised to find how many great events and trips NYU organized. NYU hosted a series of FREE events that allowed us to see much more than we would have on our own. They also got us memberships to the University College of London’s student union, which was another great resource to London’s opportunities. 

On the other hand, what I wish I had done better was get involved and met more “London-ers.”  Go out get involved, join a sports team or club, do community service or volunteer somewhere, it doesn’t matter what you do, but don’t isolate yourself to the confines of the NYU bubble. 

Also beware of the exchange rates always estimate it’s more than you actually think is because honestly it probably is. (L ßbecause this is one of the major downfalls of London, life for an American is SO expensive)

London food, you may have to search, but contrary to popular belief it isn’t all bad.

BE CAREFUL WHEN CROSSING THE STREET. You think I am being ridiculous in telling you this? Well then, think of me saying I told you so next time you come inches from being hit by a car or angry bicyclist on the streets of London. I am telling you for sure, even if they see you, they won’t stop.

Befriend your teachers! They live there they have knowledge to share that is just as valid and useful if not more so than your fellow students or other locals.
Go to pubs, its where people hang out, watch games, blow off steam. Go there with your teachers and classmates! It’s totally normal to be at a pub on a Monday night with friends and it’s a much more relaxed atmosphere than you would find in American bar.

Try everything for yourself! Don’t let other people make up your mind for you! Your semester abroad means your own experiences so don’t let other people deter you from doing things your interest about.

Finally, I want to say actively seek opportunities in wherever you are, when you look back on all you did you won’t regret it. 

In preparation for my time abroad I made a lot of assumptions about what my time here would really be like.  However, I never expected that my time here would turn out the way it has so far.  It has for sure turned out to be so much better.
Back in New York last semester, I was dying to get out of the city and be just anywhere else so a semester abroad seemed like the perfect solution. Indeed it was. As corny and cliché as it will sound, I learned much more about myself here in 4 months than I have in a year and a half in New York.  Among other things, I learned to appreciate the US, and simultaneously escape (at least somewhat) the heavy influence it had on the way I think about the world, respond towards other cultures and make judgments. 
London is a cultural hub of the world and I have seen more diversity in this city than I have ever been exposed to in my entire life.  Here, I have been exposed to so many nationalities, ethnicities, and languages, and the sometimes-overbearing mentality of the US is less apparent across the pond.  In fact, London has become somewhat of a bridge for me to understand more about the rest of the world, and not just the Western world, but also the East.  Recently I travelled to Istanbul, Turkey over my spring break and I experienced a much different travel encounter than I have been used to so far.
In Istanbul life is, no doubt, hectic and full of life, with millions living in close quarters among both ancient and modern structures, it is where Europe meets Asia and has a place in history as one of the great cultural centers of the world for centuries now.  Given that, upon going there I never thought I would have much difficulty adjusting to life there for only a week, however, I was mistaken.  When I arrived off the plane I realized immediately that communicating would be a huge issue.  Barely anyone spoke English and even fewer understood could understand my complicated request to get wireless in the airport as I waited alone for a friends flight to get in.  That was definitely one of the hardest things to realize that my English words were useless in Istanbul (English was not even that popular as a second language). Not to seem ignorant, but the fact that I could barely communicate with locals even through hand gestures was pretty difficult to accept.
Being in Istanbul was a totally out of this world experience, I saw some of the oldest, most ornate palaces, mosques, cisterns, ancient hippodromes and artifacts that remain there still.  But even more so I realized something about my identity as an American.  After accepting the fact I was going to struggle with communication, I found another issue when I walked into the hotel I would be staying at, the Sheraton Istanbul, a popular American brand of hotels.  At once my cab was stopped at the gate and screened for any explosive materials and when I walked into the hotel my bags were sent through an Xray machine while I was asked to walk through a metal detector.  All this high security made me feel uneasy, not safe, after all why did they think it was necessary to have high security in upscale hotel such as this? Soon I realized it wasn’t just the Sheraton, but every single American hotel chain.  Needless to say, I did not immediately feel welcomed as an American and I saw very few American while I was there event though the city was teeming with tourists from all over.
My trip went smoothly, and I really enjoyed Istanbul, but I definitely learnt a little more about what it means to be an American in an area of the world, where I was not necessarily welcomed as one.  The exposure to these conditions, language barriers, and high security precautions was a way for me to experience a different side of tourism, and although initially the reactions were tough, I think my time in London prepared me for the American reception there. 
America plays a powerful role in the realm of the world, but just because it is extremely prevalent in world economics, politics, and so on does not mean all cultures and countries hold it in high respect. I think my experience in London and especially in Turkey brought this to light.

In the snarky novel The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope is a satirical account of the greed and social climbing that went on in the lat 1800s after a series of financial scandals hit England. The novel lays out a web of relationships between the main characters for both love and status, as well as the characters’ general acts of greed and scandal in search of better earnings.  The novel, plays out a rough path for the characters as they become self destructive in their hunt for wealth and status, but their mishaps are finally resolved in the end.
The idea of a favorable marriage, and more importantly social climbing in the novel during a time where classes were still very real, brings about some of my own observations on English values.  Although the England seems modern enough to be rid of such archaic systems such as that of class, when you look closely class barriers seem to rear their ugly heads more frequent than you may think.  With recent events including the marriage of Kate Middleton to Prince William (talk about a favorable marriage) you may wonder how it is possible for classes to be infiltrating England’s modern society.  A common person, of no royal background or title, has just been married into one of the world’s most iconic royal families for centuries.  It is like a true Cinderella story, but it doesn’t prove that classes have really been destroyed. 
Let’s be honest, Kate was not royalty, but she also was not from a low profile, or low-income family.  She comes from a very wealthy family, went to a topnotch university, where she met her new hubby and was no stranger to the high profile public eye before her relationship with the Duke of Cambridge. That being said she is often associated with the death of the class system and real proof that anyone can climb their way to the top. 
I never really realized how much the class system burdened English society until I arrived in January.  It became much more obvious when I arrived, not from what I have observed on my own, but more so from the manner in which locals talk about class and high society.  Apparently the class system, although blatantly no longer in place, still exists to a certain extent and has made it very difficult for less privileged individuals to excel, mostly in politics, beyond a certain point.  This is debatable, however, the fact that it is still so present in our generation definitely shocked me.  It does make the idea of the a favorable marriage seem of high importance, and almost necessity in the English society in order to improve one’s living standards, a concept less prevalent in American culture.

Image: a new Royal family

England’s wintery months are plagued by gray skies, biting wind and that damp sort of chilliness that can be felt deep in your bones.  Although these daunting conditions sound a bit miserable, locals have figured out how to face these conditions with kind faces and warm smiles.  London is always alive with the polite and warm-hearted spirit of the people who live here.  With the warm weather in the last month or so and the end of the winter social hibernation this warm and friendly atmosphere as become even more evident.  And with it a bustling community has emerged around my quiet neighborhood, as though woken from a deep sleep.

The genius locus of my experience in London is the community you find in “The Brunswick,” the small sustainable living center only steps from the door of my NYU dorm.  From the outside The Brunswick may just look like a simple outdoor mall, but it has become so much more to me and my friends at NYUL.  The Brunswick, is like the heart of our imagined campus, sort of like what Washington Sq is to our city campus. It is where we eat, shop, and buy our endless Vodafone credit vouchers, but it is also where we travel to meet up with friends, what we use as our major landmark, and always where I feel the sense of community in London the most intensely. 

Whether it’s crowded with families on Sunday afternoons, bustling with NYU students post-Monday-night-required class, or full of teenagers from all over the Europe who stop by to check out the shops before they head to the train station down the road the Brunswick is always full of smiles and energy.  It’s like my own little cultural community center.  The Brunswick captures what I love about London, the diversity, the courteous and friendly attitudes, and the overall relaxed atmosphere created among the throngs of Brunswick-goers. As silly as it may sound I think it is one of the things I will miss most about London, I can’t imagine not walking through the Brunswick at least once a day when I return to the U.S., but I will always think of the Brunswick when I look back on my time in London.

So you know those people that are relaxed, care free, and accommodating?  Well, that’s not Jane.  My Art professor, Jane, is absolutely crazy. She is always animated, telling crazy stories about her life and her friends, most of which happen to be quite well known social characters. She tells us the tales of her crazy experiences with art in London and encourages us to go make our own insane memories. Honestly, I think she is either the kind of professor you love or hate.  She is totally open with her opinions, language, and sporadic anecdotes, which can drive a person mad, but she is also honest and lively and doesn’t always waste time on manners and social etiquette.  Luckily this is what I love about her teaching. Not only do we learn about the art we see from an analytical point of view, but also from Jane’s own reactions to the artists, their displays and their reception in the art world.
Her enthusiasm for the underground “sub-culture” of London intrigues me and her constant energy about our chances to get involved in London makes me feel welcomed.  Unlike many other administrators at NYUL, Jane tries to create as much of an interactive experience with London as she possibly can, with her there is no barrier of being a student from the U.S.
I really enjoy that she has created such an atmosphere and that she tries to share her expertise on London, not for its face value, but also for the impact each event, artist, or object had on London itself.  Jane definitely pushes me to step outside of the cliché box sometimes, whether it pertains to the way I think about art or to the prospect of her students getting more involved and taking advantage of the city. This attitude has really encouraged me to feel like I have a right to London and its opportunities.

Image: Part of the "Mothers" exhibit in the Hauser and Wirth West End Galleries, Jane showed us this on one of our tours and encouraged us to express what it meant to us and what we thought.

London isn’t necessarily known for it’s “good eats,” and between the goose liver pate and the pickled Scottish eggs it isn’t necessarily my preferred type of food.  However my friends and I stumbled upon a small tearoom in the heart of Bloomsbury that gives me hope for British culinary achievements. Beas of Bloomsbury is an itty-bitty corner café that caters to the hungry crowds of business folk on their lunch breaks, sweet treat seekers on the look out for the next best noms, and hungry university students trying to score a cheap and appetizing meal in the city of London, like yours truly. 
 
Beas, as we have taken to calling it, is quite, hmm...how do I put this? Cozy.  Well by cozy I mean that it is about the size of my bedroom.  Even so there is always a line out the door for this petite gem in the heart of Bloomsbury.  Within this tiny teahouse you will find show windows full of sweet baked delights from cupcakes topped with fresh strawberries to the best banana bread you will ever taste to the an assortment of home-made macaroons and meringues.  As you near the registers you will find even more sweet treats in the form of their delicious homemade cakes and pies.
 
During mealtime hours fresh buffet style lunch crowds the counter tops of the snug food prep area.  With choices ranging from delightful salads, to quiches made from scratch to lamb kebabs it’s easy to find a delicious meal, and all of it for only about £5. And if you are lucky enough to find a seat within this vintage inspired menagerie of antique furniture and sweat confections you will have the pleasure of watching your chefs carefully prepare the goodies soon to arrive on the shelves while you munch.
 
Beas is the perfect meal for picnic weather, which we have been so fortunate as to experience this past weekend. It’s definitely the place to pick out some of the best and cheapest meals in Bloomsbury and in my experience London.
 
Image: Picture of Bea's

In London it’s a bit obvious that I don’t get as much of a culture shock as many students who are traveling in what I may call exotic places with new languages, religions, and customs to adapt to all at once.  However, I still do experience the barrier of being a tourist, which MacCannel describes in depth. Feeling like a tourist is different than feeling unwelcomed or unable to adjust, but rather I think it stems from the unconscious realization that I’m not “home”. 

 It may sound a bit silly, but knowing that I am not part of this nation already excludes me from many of the “back” positions that MacCannel addresses.  Already I feel less attached and less responsible for the effects I have in this place.  Even though I’m not on vacation, I do get to see this country from a point of luxury.  I live in an NYU dorm and I have money, although limited, to spend, I take classes on a beautiful campus, I’m offered free trips to see parts of London and England, and I get to interact with peers experiencing the same sort of utopic study experience.  

When I think about it I realize that I don’t have to delve deep into British politics or history, I don’t need to feel offended when Barcelona beats Arsenal in a football tournament, I don’t have to be outraged and the public health cuts or tax raises.   I get to observe from my safe distance, behind the concept of the tourist. It is not my tax money paying for the art in the National Gallery and I know I really have no say or mark on this country.
 
Of course there are moments when I feel as though I am having an authentic experience, for example when I am outside of London and I realize how much I miss my quasi-home.  Or other times when it appears as though I am surrounded by Brits and very few Americans, I feel like I did something right to get their, I must have thought like a Brit or something like that. However, after all of this I still know that I am not having an authentic experience, maybe because I know that I don’t experience life or think about things in the same way as the British do and that my culture has become my boundary.

Image: A few friends taking advantage of the "intrinsically British" attractions here you can see West Minister Abbey and big ben as well as the classic double decker buses.

London in is home to some of the world’s most famous pieces of art, and to thousands of other local treasures. The museums here seem abundant and endless, the range covers every genre and cultural tie, and the mix is just enough to send anyone who enjoys art into an overwhelmed fit of euphoria. Art History is actually part of my concentration and one of the reasons I chose to study here. 
My art history background is actually in Renaissance and Impressionist art, and modern and contemporary artists have always only confused me.  However, this semester I decided it was time I learned a little more about the entire genre that has eluded me for years.  I used to see a lot of contemporary art as somewhat phony even, art that usually has me asking frustrated. I mean, it seems like anyone could put a bunch of colored dots on a canvas, but when Damien Hirst does it he get paid 2 million dollars or some ridiculous sum of money.
Fortunately my opinion on this art is rapidly changing as I start to get a better understanding of what so many of these crazy “Young British Artists,” as they call themselves, have done in the past 40 years. The contemporary artists from the 70s and on may not exhibit the greatest technical skill in their collages of barely clad female figures or the rotting decapitated head of a cow; however, I am beginning to understand that they do represent a movement and way of life just like Renaissance and Impressionists did in their days.
I saw this for the very first time when I was assigned to review a recent exhibit for my art class. The exhibit was called “Urethra Postcard Art” by duo Gilbert and George, who are well known throughout Britain for pushing the boundaries of art. At first I was unmoved by the display, already set on not understanding and not caring enough to do anything, but as I walked through the exhibit I felt the impact of the work. The pieces were squares of postcards, which the artists had saved over the years ranging from images of West Minister Abbey to telephone booth escort service ads.  For once I looked at the obscure images and felt like I actually had an understanding, I saw and felt the meaning behind the artists work, as if they had let me in on their little secret.
I know it sounds like a lot of drama over one show, and maybe it’s wrong to pinpoint my change of heart on one moment, but I do know that something has changed in my feelings toward new age art. Don’t get me wrong, I still am not buying all of it, and there are definitely a few artists I have mentally flagged to be skeptical of, but my tolerance and even appreciation for contemporary art has obviously grown.

Image: this is a picture of artists Gilbert and George in front of their Urethra Postcard art show.

For this week’s post I began reading The London Scene by Virginia Woolf, a compilation of essays written for a magazine between 1930 and 1932. 
If you have read Woolf before you know she has a painstaking way of describing every detail of even the most mundane subjects, and these essays were no exception. In her essays Woolf takes each quotidian London scene and gives a ruthless critique of London life. In her essays she appears to be resentful of London’s major attractions, especially of the trade business conducted throughout London.

In her review on the “Dock’s of London,” Woolf closely analyses the character of the merchants on the docks, and she claims, “the temper of the docks is severely utilitarian.” (Woolf, 18) Her detailed account of the busy docks reveal the disenchanted point of view of a London native, her lackluster accounts of the foreign goods on the docks of the Thames are previews into the contempt she holds for this type of commerce.
It’s almost funny how she writes such an unenthused, even sarcastic explanation for some of the scenes I was most excited to see in London.  For example, her description of Oxford Street, one of the biggest, busiest shopping areas in London, is full of similar feelings towards those of the docks and filled with resent for the consumer society.

Reading her essays made me think of my own experience with time here in London.  Upon my arrival I was ecstatic to be in London, and ready to tour all the sights at any moment. I had endless energy and enthusiasm, and was enchanted by the stories of London I had from movies, books, and magazines.  However, I realized my enthusiasm has faded quite a bit in the last month or so.  My endless energy has been replaced with fatigue over midterms and essays, and for a nagging feeling like I should be getting out of London, out of England, to see the rest of Europe.  My London excitement has started to fade a bit, so it makes me wonder if I am beginning to feel like London is my new home and maybe disinterest is a only a sign of familiarity.  

Image: what some of the busy docks might have looked like to V. Woolf

My first two or three weeks here in London were jam packed with sight seeing and mini excursions, finding my way and getting lost, discovering new restaurants and bars.  Those were the weeks to figure things out.  Now, however, as I move into my 5th week abroad things have started to slow down a bit.  Simply for the purpose of maintaining sanity I have had to cut back on my days of wandering and museum visits to remind myself that I am here to go to school so I have to dedicate time to my academics as well.
 
In the last three weeks I have started to slow down and adjust to some sort of routine so that I can in fact balance school and travel and friends and so much more.  My days definitely vary, Monday and Tuesday I have class all day, Wednesdays are “culture days”, and weekends I leave for travel and exploring other opportunities in London. It’s funny how easy it was for me to drop into this routine and without any warning things started to become habit.
 
So like I said Monday and Tuesday I spend most of the day in classes, but Wednesdays, my two friends and I enjoy “culture day,” where we try to do as many touristy things that we can. The best part is that most people are working or in school on Wednesdays so it allows us to enjoy the main attractions, but minus the crowds of people that would be there over the weekends. Some of NYU students studying here have also put together a soccer, or football, club here that we play on every Wednesday and Thursday night. It’s a great opportunity to get out and meet other local people that we play against and try to pop the NYU bubble.
 
It’s nice to be able to have a balance of routine time and free time. It almost seems as though I have too much free time some days, but I know there is always something I could be doing, even if I am no necessarily doing it. It’s somewhat the double edged sword of studying abroad, part of me feels like I need to see EVERYTHING right away, 4months doesn’t seem to be enough. And if I don’t, I will never really have gotten the most out of my time here. However, there is another side of me that knows I have to find a balance of what time to take for myself to adjust and make myself comfortable in this new place. 

Image: Picture of the Arch in Chinatown taken from one of our "cultrue day" excursions.

I could not keep myself from getting wrapped up in Botton’s romanticized account of Amsterdam while reading this week’s Art of Travel chapter.  I found his very poetic descriptions of Amsterdam captivating, and in fact very similar to my initial experiences in London, as I was quickly overwhelmed by the immense history that filled the streets here, by the class structure, the ornate churches, the Brititsh accents. And like Botton, I found myself justifying each of these differences as somehow an improvement.  The foreign seemed so enchanting from the moment that I walked of the plane and found the airport staff to be so friendly, to the first time I arrived in my new room I had unconsciously created an overwhelming number of reasons for why life in England, at least in London, was so much better than life in the U.S.

One particular British mannerism that is often romanticized in the U.S. is their idiom. Don’t get me wrong, I am not going crazy, I realize that in both the U.S. and in Britain we claim English as our national language, however when spoken, our language can take on two entirely different identities.  For me, the British Accent has always encouraged a romantic reaction, the accent always has carried more meaning than a dialect of English, but rather it seems to carry with it the idea of chivalry, history, class, and even at times power. As if everyone with a British Accent was polite, classy and every word that left their lips sounded like poetry.

This strange belief I was holding onto upon my arrival has been slowly picked apart since.  Sure the British Accent may sound beautifully foreign at first, but once it starts to sound more familiar the allure of the unknown quickly fades and I became jaded by their slang, the quickness of their speech, and most of all the cockney British accent. The infamous “cockney” accent originally was attributed to those who lived in East London, but now describes a lower class slang, which barely resembles any form of English. 

My first encounter with disillusionment occurred when I went to get a local phone. At first I was able to keep up with the attendant explanation of phone plans and pay as you go programs, but somewhere near the middle of the explanation I was lost by the quickness of his speech and the constant interjection of slang.  I sat politely in silence and waited for him to finish, and my face must have been twisted into some sort of unpleasant stare as I tried to concentrate on what he was saying because my friend next to me asked if I was alright. 

Finally the sales person took a breathe from his long speech and asked if we had made up our minds. “Umm, no…?” I said, as if it was a question, “but could you try explaining that one more time…maybe, a little slower?” I wish I was joking when I said that my friends had to translate his terminology to me, it was almost embarrassing that I couldn’t even understand my own first language, but we quickly cleared up the rest of the issues and I vowed to stay away from that phone store for a while at least until they forgot my face.

That was my first experience with unpleasant British accents and I have had many since that one as well. It’s hard to believe that in reality the average British accents sounds no more pleasant than the American one to me anymore. However, I guess that was part of becoming integrated in British culture and realizing that any language can seem more pleasant than yours when it sounds unfamiliar to your ears.

Image: what a cockney accent really sounds like...also blackguard is another word for scoundrel

London is a big city so I figured it would take a while to get the hang of traveling here. I thought I would just need to adjust, and that soon I would find my way around, but it didn’t take me long to figure out that that wasn’t the case. The tiny, streets wind all about the city lacking order and clear direction, it’s hard to even see where one street ends and the next begins in some places. When I saw these streets I began to appreciate the gridded street layout of New York City so much more, I missed the ease HopStop.com, the 24-hour subway system, and I yearned for the yellow taxi cabs that I know to flood the streets of NYC. 
 
This longing for NYC transportation came to a peak in my first week here, when I realized just how hard it was to get around a foreign city.  My first weekend here I planned to go to a show in Oxford Circus with some friends, and in my ignorance I decided it would be easier to take a cab to the theater, than it would be to ride the tube (our underground system).
 
Seeing that we live in the relatively quiet end of Bloomsbury, we decided to call a cab service. This decision was primarily motivated by the animated speech my peers and I received at orientation on the dangers of taking an unmarked cab, all of which seemed to be waiting to pickup unsuspecting tourists and do unspeakable things to them. We were on a deadline, we needed to be in Oxford Circus by 8pm if we were to use our free vouchers and make it to our show, so we called the local cab service and waited outside.  Well we waited and waited for about 20 minutes before the driver called us lost, he couldn’t figure our how to get to the other side of the soccer fields that divide our dorm from the rest of Russell Square. I think that should have probably been the first warning sign, but we casually ignored his mistake and another 10 min later he found our building.
 
After that we embarked on what would probably be the longest cab ride of my life.  Our friend, a local, who was already at the theater, holding onto our ticket vouchers, had already called me about 3 times asking where we could be, as we were running 30 min late already. Well we told our cab driver we were in a rush and asked him to take the shortest route possible, but I noticed he seemed a little nervous as he fiddled with his GPS struggling to enter the address, so I offered to take over that task and let him focus solely on driving. 
 
My friends and I were all worked up, nervous about missing the show, and we were frustrated with our driver, who rather than looking for a speedy route to our destination was following the GPS straight into the most congested streets of the city.  As he saw our frustrated faces quickly twist into something more like anger, he decided to take a new route, not listed by the GPS.  This was the precise point at which we became lost.
 
Seeing that it was 7:55 pm and we were no where near our destination it was clear we weren’t going to a free show, so our anger turned into laughter as our cab driver began to attempt a additional tour of London.  We attempted to pay attention, but the circumstances seemed much too ridiculous, as we could not stop laughing. After all of that, our cab driver lead us through a construction-blocked street and we decided we had had enough, we got out of the cab and called our friend who walked to where we were and found us something else to do for the night.
 
When we left for home that night we decided we would try walking back because we were no longer under such time constraints, and to our surprise it was 10 min walk from Russell Square. That night I realized just how wrong I was. London was big, but certainly, not as vast as I had made it out to be in my mind.
 
On our walk back I recognized landmarks and buildings that helped us get back to our building with ease, and this new city was starting to make a lot more sense to me. It became all too clear that taking taxicabs wasn’t going to help me get familiar with this city. So after all of the effort we had taken to make it out that night, we could not help but to laugh it off and vow not to take any taxicab services in the near future. 

Image: Street Map of London, literally one of the most confusing maps I have ever read 

This weekend was a great opportunity for me to reflect on my time here in London, as well as to test myself on how well I knew my new home, as I prepared for one of my college friend, Sydney, to visit. I knew it was bound to happen, but I still was not ready for it this quickly, and I felt a bit of anxiety as I tried to prepare for her stay.  While attempting to plan for her, I began to think “what had I done since being here that had made my trip great or exciting so far?” Sitting in my room, I considered all of the things I had been expecting from this trip before I had arrived and how I felt about those preconceptions in that moment.  Was London really the way I had pictured in from Allentown, Pa, a long 3 weeks ago? Well, yes and no.

As expected the culture was not too hard to adjust to, especially without any language barriers getting in the way. And yes, the city of London is big, just like New York, I can buy most of the same things I did in New York, get around easily, see lots of diversity and even find bars to watch the Super bowl in. So, no, it didn’t seem like such a huge change, aside from the accents and the road systems here.  But, then when you look closer you can see so many more differences, which stem from such a long and prevalent history in the world.  Differences in things like government, politics, people, immigration, and most of all the ideas of class and nation.

I never really realized how much class system affected Great Britain today, in fact I thought it was a burnt out idea.  However, learning about British Politics has shed light on the fact that it is still quite influential especially it’s effect on immigrants and politicians, two groups who are seemingly on opposite ends of the spectrum. Seeing the way that the class system still has such a strong hold on this culture absolutely shocked me, and in fact, it gave me a new appreciation for my USA.

Another concept that absolutely shocked me is the division in London, from the rest of Western Europe.  Although England claims to be a European country by location, it seems to be so separate from the rest of the world, as if it is divided between American and European lifestyles.

It seems that since I have set out on this journey I have already begun to learn so much about more about global perspectives, not just of other countries, but the way other countries few the U.S.  Sometimes, it seems like I may have cheated my self by choosing a country, which appears to be so similar to the U.S. from the outside, but I haven’t that problematic yet. Because even though this country may speak a similar language or have similar luxuries to which I am familiar with in the U.S. it is it’s own country. An entity separate from both the U.S. and the rest of continental Europe, and it’s abundance of diversity has really opened up my eyes to the rest of the world.

Image: Some friends at a London Phone Booth: One of those "uniquely British" artifacts meant to represent Great Britain in its glory. Ironically all of these booths seem to smell like piss and are covered in pornographic stickers and adverts

Hi to everyone abroad! Sorry my post comes a little later as I just joined, but better late than never! My name is Samantha and I am a sophomore in Gallatin studying marketing, psych, and art history.  Nope no fancy title yet for my broad major, but bound to come soon, as my concentration seems to come a bit clearer each semester. I am studying abroad in London this semester and getting acquainted with a culture that on the outside appears to be much closer to American culture than I have come to find.  Although they speak English here sometimes I feel like I need a translator to understand some of the locals, but I am getting better at picking up the colloquial speech. I've lived in urban Pennsylvania all of my life till I moved to New York freshman year, I wasn't from a small town, but New York was quite the culture shock still. And now just as I'm starting to get used to the busy streets and "unique" mix of New Yorkers I have found myself leaving, for another metropolis 3,000 miles away.

This is my first time in London, and the U.K. for that matter, but I'm no stranger to travel. My father was born and raised in Pakistan, while my mother comes from a small, mostly white, Christian town in Pennsylvania, and has always lived in the United States, quite an unlikely match for their time. Together they hatched a plan to make sure that my sisters and myself were always open to the abundance of cultures existing in out world, so travel has become an important part of my family and personal life.  Yet another first, this will be the longest time I have spent outside of the U.S., and I am hoping to embrace this experience with strong enthusiasm and eagerness to learn about the world from another point of view.

I have been here just under two weeks, but it already feels like so much longer as I try to set up a home here in London.  Already American accents are beginning to sound foreign to me outside of my classrooms, and I am trying to take advantage of all the culture that London and the surrounding areas have to offer.  As I mentioned part of my concentration revolves around art history, my favorite being Renaissance, and upon my first trip to the National Gallery I was joyfully overwhelmed by the important artworks surrounding me. Needless to say I will be back their soon.  There is so much history on each street of this massive city it amazes me, it's advantage of time and experience makes it so unlike the U.S., but in a refreshing way.  I'm really hoping to embrace this new city and immerse myself into life here so I thought this class would be an exciting way to force myself to document my travels and experiences.

Can't wait to find out more about everyone and their travels!

(Photo: me (in the black) and a friend in front of Monument- taken by a friend)