The Epic Wondering of Where to Walk...

Another week in London has passed, and yet the city still seems to amaze me. One of the most confusing, yet interesting aspects of London (and probably the rest of Britain) is on which side to walk. What I mean is, the cars drive on the left side of the road, but if you’re walking, where should you be?

On the escalators, you stand on the right and pass on the left. When I first learned this, I thought it was odd, but liked the idea. It’s so nice and easy to simply know if you want to move faster, go to the left. If you have the time to leisurely ride to your destination, please stay to the right. Since the left seems to be the dominant side, you would assume most people just pass on the left too, right?

Wrong. Unfortunately, it’s so hard to tell if people are British or not (especially since a large majority are not) such rules do not apply while simply walking down the street. On the escalators, it’s literally a rule as to where to go, but honestly, I’ve almost run into so many people on the sidewalks and in the Tube stations simply because people walk all over. It’s madness, I tell you. People rush from place to place almost as bad as those huge double-decker buses that never stop. Time is precious, and can’t be used to avoid a poor little foreigner such as myself.

Because I am Here to Study...

Since I am in London to study English and art, I feel it’s necessary to keep you up with my thought process of those as well. During my module today, I really felt like a foreigner and suffered serious culture shock. I couldn’t concentrate very well and made little mistakes I usually don’t make. Even when I was back in my flat, I just felt like my whole world had been tilted a little. You could say my supply of food for the week dwindled quite a bit as comfort.

Yet as I sat in the classroom trying to focus on the professor, I found my mind imagining pieces of art to do. The fear within me felt like a slimy little beast that clutched my heart and dripped poison of doubt into my stomach. I could see a piece of art illustrating him within a rib cage. Then, the feeling of being singled out from everyone else made me feel awkward and unusual compared to my classmates. I thought of ways I could show how I felt. Even words wouldn’t be able to get it across, I think. It’s only a start, but I feel like I can go in a lot of directions with it, and since it’s my emotions, I hope to really be able to evaluate myself through my art.

Wish me luck, and look out for my new art!

Moral of the Day: Beware the Tube

Today I went to my first British class… and felt absolutely lost. After riding the Tube for 50 minutes to simply get to the suburbs of London, I found myself on the Harrow campus of my school. It’s kind of like they’ve taken all of the art students and blocked them off from civilization. Don’t worry, there’s food there, and just barely enough room for their projects, not to mention a bunch of open space, so all in all, they’re fine. My class is in a temporary building because the original had been burned down a couple years ago. I had been told that even though they call it “the tent” it’s actually a decent building. When I found it, though, I’d say it’s well named as a tent. A big white tent. Fortunately, as long as there’s a space in the studio for me, I guess it doesn’t really matter.

I get to the campus and go to reception, because my professor said he’d meet me there, but he never did, so I just found my way to my class (that’s me, ever resourceful). He walked in, took one look at me and said, “Ah, you must be Mary, you poor soul.” It wasn’t very reassuring, but at the same time, it meant he knew everyone else in the class. That may not sound too astonishing, but there were probably about fifty of us standing around, so be amazed.

I was there from 10:30am to 2:30 pm. Yes, we had two breaks—one for a cup of tea and another for lunch—but it was still a long time. British modules are extremely different from American classes. They may still have homework due from last semester at the beginning of this semester. This can be terribly confusing when you hear everyone talk about an essay due Wednesday that you yourself had never heard of. It’s terrifying, to be honest.

For those who think art is easy, I dare you to take a class where all they tell you is to make art, and make a lot of it. Just… mess around and see what happens, really. We had a lecturer who talked about his ideas because he’s one of our teachers, but I honestly could not tell you what he said. Maybe it was that accent of his, or maybe just simply how abstract he was. I understood a good deal, but when he started moving his hands about and squinting his eyes while struggling to find the right words, I figured it would be better to just concentrate on his slides, which kept changing sporadically during his presentation; this threw him off quite a bit too, I think.

It was all a bit overwhelming, but then my day wasn’t over yet. I climbed back on to the Tube, looking forward to relaxing in my room and figuring out when I can visit an art gallery or two. I felt so confident… I should have realized something would go wrong. We stopped in the station where I could have gotten off, but I knew there was another station closer to home, so I stayed on board. The train sat for a good five to ten minutes, just enjoying the view of London suburbs. Finally, I heard the train was ready to go, but instead of heading in the direction it had been since I had gotten on, I realized it was heading back to campus. Needless to say, I freaked out a little, but remembered I could just hop on another train and head back into town. The trip took a little longer than expected, especially when other trains are being delayed, but eventually I made it home, and was able to have a good chat with my flatmates.

It's Not the Next Epic But...

I’ve tried thinking of a few ways to start this blog. My first idea was to open with an idea of what was going through my mind right before I left… but then I left before I could start. I then decided I would write about the flight over first… but then that was kind of super lame, seeing as it went pretty smoothly. I mean, the only thing that I can really complain about is how airport security should either be paid more or given more coffee in the morning, because no one should be grumpy and annoyed around nine in the morning. Ah, but that’s about it. I enjoyed the ride and got safely where I had to without any worry at all. Except, you know, for being in a totally new country, but that’s no big thing.

Now I’ve been in London for a week. I figured now is as good as any time to start it, since I’m already here and really getting to know the city. I mean, epics always start in the middle too, right? Eh, not saying this’ll be any epic, not even like Paradise Lost by Milton, but I’m more aiming for entertainment.

So some of the first things I learned about London…

The Tube is your best friend, and learning it will save your life. The Tube (if you don’t know) is the slang name for the Underground here (or the subway). The map for it is absolutely awesome and super easy to use. Honestly, the hardest part is at night when you have to find a station, but you have no idea where you are. This does make it a tad bit difficult, but I assure you, they’re kind of everywhere; if you walk long enough, you’ll bump into one. Oh, just make sure you find it before midnight because then they’re closed. No pressure, though.

If you’re tight on cash, London is your friend. I don’t know about renting a place—fortunately for me, that’s already taken care of—but food, clothing, and such can be found at reasonable prices. Pounds suck compared to dollars at the moment, but that’s my fault for being an American, not the money’s. Money can be blamed for a whole lot of other reasons already, like greed, desire, inequality… good stuff. Anyhoo, I’ve totally been able to make my pounds go the extra mile this first week, which is awesome.

People here like drinking. You learn that “hanging out” in England actually means “going out and getting sorta smashed” when you suddenly notice all of the pubs, bars, and Cheap Booze stores around your area. It also does not help having college students in this same region, who are either barely legal or conveniently only legal in the UK. Hm… I wonder what they like doing every night?

Now my classes start on Monday, so actually the only students in the residence halls at the moment are foreigners (and the majority are Americans). I’ll let you know what the academic life is like later, but I feel this has actually turned into a decent introduction. Hey, would ya look at that!