A Yankee in the Fog — First Impressions from an American Exchange Student
As far as I’ve seen, London contains a shocking lack of top hats, canes, and monocles. I’ve been here five weeks. By now, I expected to be party to poisonous mysteries in dank Baker St. flats. I thought hell hounds and scandalous photographs came with the post code.
So far, the only mystery is which one of my flatmates stole an egg from my carton—and I still haven’t cracked that case.
Regardless, London is truly magical. As I write this in the Newsroom of the British Library, the city’s energy and history hum around me. Anywhere you walk, two-thousand years of London royalty, artistry, and pageantry match your stride.
There’s something comforting in knowing Lennon and Morrissey walked these same streets, stressing about their work in the same ways I do. Also, our hair. We’d all be stressing about our hair. Especially in this wind.
Still, culture shock is abound for a Yankee in the London fog. Here are a few of the biggest ones:
Classes Meet Once A Week
In America, most classes meet three times a week, and you take about five classes. I’m not in the calculus exchange program, but I’m fairly certain that it equals a LOT LESS class here at City St. Georges.
I know what you’re thinking: why wouldn’t this be a good thing, nerd? Class isn’t the only way to meet people. Why can’t you just enjoy your free time?
Sorry. The voice in my head is decisively American, and pretty mean.
Yes, the free time is wonderful. Here, I’m under much less pressure to schedule every waking minute of the day, and that seems to underscore a key difference in our cultures. In the States, free time is a premium commodity. 6 classes, 3 clubs, summer internships, research, a part-time job, and a social life are the bare minimum. Over-involvement is encouraged and competition is the norm. It’s exhausting.
London is different. In exchange for the lack of campus connection and a watered down school spirit, education is more personal. Taking things at one’s own pace is not only easier but encouraged.
Outside of class, I have time to focus on travel, hobbies, and figuring out how to live on my own. Essentially, I’ve found time for everything I set out to study abroad for. I’ve been able to read more. I’ve been able to try new sports. I’ve been able to, I don’t know, write magazine articles.
College Sports Don’t Matter
No one cares about college sports in England. Side note: please excuse my use of the word college, I know it’s called university here (I guess you can’t teach an American dog new tricks).
It may seem insignificant that college sports aren’t huge; however, as a sports journalism student at one of the most prolific sports schools in the US, this was a big change.
Fandom for one’s college is a diehard experience in the States, with deeply seeded, bloodthirsty rivalries spanning generations. And it doesn’t end at graduation. At a football game, the average attendee has been out of school for years, if not decades.
In London, the experience is different. Stadiums aren’t packed. In fact, they don’t exist. No one wears merch for their school, much less jerseys of “players” three years younger than them.
Legitimate source of communal pride, or absurd exaltation of young athletes? You tell me. But every few nights at my school, we lock arms with total strangers to sway side to side and sing a hymn we all know by heart. If that moment exists at City St. Georges, someone please point the way.
Conclusion
More than anything, I miss American gyms. I also miss outdoor basketball courts, New Jersey pizza, and Diet A&W Root Beer. Seriously, it’s magic. You guys have to write to your magistrate or constable or whatever, get that junk over here. Stat.
But overall, I love London. I love its culture, architecture, and welcoming feel. In my travels so far, Ireland, Italy and other countries not beginning in “I,” I’ve always found myself longing for London.
I love Percy the Pig, BBC, and the Underground. I love kebab, Spoons, and student discounts. The United Kingdom is far more compassionate than the United States. Not only to its students, but to its homeless, its women, its single parents, its homeowners. Sadly, the list goes on and on.
I love being able to buy beer at any store I find. I love crisps, biscuits, fish and chips, Sunday roast, bangers, mash, and bangers and mash. British culture teaches that potatoes are better when you throw a “jacket” on them. Flavor is more delicious when it includes a “u.”
“You’ll see,” says London, tugging on the end of its Dad sweater. “Give it time.”
