Remembering and Reflecting

30 November — As our time in London quickly concludes, my attitude has shifted from “How many amazing things can I experience in such a short amount of time?” to “Look at all the amazing experiences I’ve had in such a short amount of time.” Reflecting back upon my experiences in London thus far has been exciting, heartwarming, and genuinely fun. The various neighborhoods, restaurants, and landmarks I’ve visited have each been unique, pivotal aspects of the city. I’ve found that amazement and wonder can emerge from even the most unexpected corners of London, and stumbling upon some new discovery consistently brightened my days. Whether I’m traveling with friends, family who are visiting, or our group from Lewis & Clark, experiencing different areas of London has been an absolute treat. Certainly the most moving experience I’ve had here was attending the Remembrance Day Ceremony on November 11 with our whole group.

It is my firm belief that the many of the best memories in one’s life often begin with a wake-up at some ungodly hour in the early morning. As my alarm chimed at 5:30 am on November 11, my initial excitement was very much bogged down by my extreme tiredness. However, there is very little a hot cup of tea in the morning won’t solve, and upon meeting the group at 7:00 am, I was extremely excited for the day to come. As we boarded the Tube together, many of us sporting our remembrance poppies, we were joined by fellow citizens from the Mile End area, also donning their own poppies. The atmosphere was somber and quiet. November 11, much like Veteran’s Day in the United States, is a yearly holiday recognized in Britain and throughout Europe as Remembrance Day, marking the armistice that ended World War I. This year’s ceremony was especially unique in that it commemorated the 100th anniversary of the war’s end.

When we arrived near the National Gallery, the tone of the morning immediately shifted from quiet reflection to the usual London loudness. London lives at all hours, morning and night, no matter the day, and it was bustling at 8:00 am when we arrived. We wound our way through the crowded streets, eventually joining the queue to enter the security area. Security at the event mirrored that of an airport, sans the x-ray scan, and we each emptied our pockets and were firmly patted down before making our way past the metal barricades lining Whitehall, the avenue leading from the Houses of Parliament to Trafalgar Square. There were 10,000-20,000 citizens projected to attend the ceremony alongside an additional 10,000 service members and veterans, so our arrival three hours before the ceremony seemed only expected. That didn’t, however, make the time pass any quicker, and the wait for the ceremony to begin seemed eternal.

As the minutes turned to hours, and the empty miles of sidewalk slowly filled with citizens, I truly recognized the gravity of the situation. What a truly amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience to commemorate the end of World War I in a city such as London. Moreover, we were witnessing the event approximately fifty feet from where some of Britain’s most famous citizens were standing. Throughout the ceremony, we watched Prince Charles, Prime Minister Theresa May, German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier, and various members of Parliament distribute remembrance wreaths upon the Cenotaph, one of London’s many monuments commemorating those lost in World War I. Though we couldn’t quite see her in person, Queen Elizabeth II was a mere hundred feet from where we were standing, potentially the closest any of us will ever be to royalty! Thousands of servicemen and servicewomen lined Whitehall each showing their medals and awards from their service. The ceremony itself was rather short, lasting less than thirty minutes, and yet it will stick with me for the rest of my life. As the ceremony closed, the crowd roared “God Save the Queen,” and it was perhaps the most chilling, surreal moment I’ve ever experienced. It is truly hard to explain the atmosphere of the ceremony, though I will forever remember the amazing experience I was able to share with my classmates.

—Zack Johnson

In Which My Love for Museums Flourishes

28 November — When I was a kid I did not know how to appreciate a good museum. I would always get dragged to them by my parents who would spend time on each piece, reading each description, while I zoomed through the place barely glancing at the art. Now, I think I am turning into my parents—which is a good thing! I believe this because I. Love. Museums! London has given me the opportunity for that love to flourish. In Portland, we have the Portland Art Museum, which is fantastic, but is 1. expensive and 2. the only museum I go to often in Portland. Apparently, there’s a hat museum there, which I am so ready to check out.

Anyway, London has a plethora of free museums filled with beautiful pieces filled with history. I’ve learned so much from the museums here. My favorite ones in no particular order are the Tate Modern, Victoria & Albert Museum, British Museum, National Gallery, and National Portrait Gallery (I learned the hard way that these last two are different places). It is so lovely to see what each individual place has to offer. I love learning about the history of the physical building and the history that is displayed through the paintings themselves.

In the National Gallery, I discovered Rembrandt’s self portrait at age 34 and another at age 63. Both of these paintings depict him sitting in the same position: turned to the right, one arm visible, and looking directly at the viewer. His clothing changes dramatically in these two paintings, from a flashier look and darker colors in his younger days to simpler but brighter clothing in his older days. In the age 34 painting, he is wearing an outfit from the 16th century. Rembrandt was Dutch and is a very prominent painter. I wonder why he was inspired to create self portraits throughout the years. How did he choose how he wanted to portray himself? Was he focused on being true to the subject? Or did he change certain things he didn’t like about his look? Art historians know that this painting is of him because he used to put himself in other paintings, especially biblical paintings. I wonder why this is. It could be because of humor, or just because he could. He was very successful at age 34, so perhaps he enjoyed being recognized, being seen. Rembrandt was extremely influenced by other artists as certain aspects of his style mimic other famous artists at the time.

London is influencing me very much. I have been introduced to new places, new ideas, and new things that excite me. London’s museums have allowed me to take time to appreciate what I have around me and what opportunities I have been given. It has allowed me to reflect on this idea of the self. Who do I want to be and how I want to present myself to the world. I don’t think one has to be a famous painter to think about these things. I’m so fortunate to have this opportunity to visit these places and to ponder these things. I am looking forward to using the rest of my time here to take everything in as much as I can. 

—Sarit Cahana

Thanksgiving

23 November — Today is Thanksgiving. Or, since this is being posted on Friday, Thanksgiving was yesterday. Today is Black Friday (which I have recently learned they do have here). This is the first year I haven’t been with my family for Thanksgiving, and I was worried because it is my favorite holiday. Yes, I recognize that Thanksgiving is a problematic holiday with a complicated history, and the Pilgrims were not great. But I also recognize how much in my life I have to be thankful for (which I know is very, very, cheesy). I am grateful that my mom only uses warm hued light bulbs, so my house looks like its glowing from the street. I am grateful for all the ways you can eat a potato. And I am grateful for all of the opportunities I have had because of how hard my family has worked.

This year, I spent my Thanksgiving day sitting in class. Instead of celebrating with family I was learning about 19th-century colonialism and how pretentious Andre Breton was. I thought I would be upset by the lack of holiday, but instead I realized the thing I am most grateful for this year is being here, in London. The classes I am taking are interesting, and I am being taught perspectives on subjects that I probably never would have heard otherwise. Yes, there are things about the school I do not love. There are also things about London I have learned I don’t love. But I also recognize what a special opportunity studying abroad is.

Freshman year was, for the most part, really difficult for me, so I spent all of my sophomore year working harder on school than I ever had to be able to qualify to go on this trip. I knew living in a completely new place would be a formative experience for me. I have met the most wonderful people here, been to places I never thought I could go on my own, and have gotten really good at taking public transportation. It took me longer to settle down here than I expected, but now that I feel (somewhat) familiar with the city I have really grown to enjoy it. I go to Rinkoffs in Whitechapel at least once a week, walk around the parks in Bethnal Green, and even have found decent Thai food.

We have less than a month left in the semester, and I wish it had not taken me so long to feel settled. But that is completely outweighed by how much I am looking forward to the next couple of weeks here. When we got back from our trip to Glenelg I had felt like I had changed. I didn’t know, and still don’t really know in what way, but I felt like a changed person. And I can feel it happening again. I know I was right when I said this would be a formative experience, for which I truly am grateful.

—Claire Tauber

Two Months in a City Full of Souls

21 November — It’s hard for me to realize that there is less than one month left for us to study and live in London. Time really flies! As the semester comes toward an end, my workload has increased a lot! I will need to complete several long essays for my courses and also get prepared for the coming winter break.

 

In the past two months I have tried to explore as many places as possible in London. However, London is really big and there are still many areas that I haven’t had the chance to see! Besides, London is a city full of souls. There are always many events happening in London and one can never get bored here. Two weeks ago I went to see the Lord Mayor’s Show which is the longest and oldest parade in the world. There were over 130 groups or organizations participated from different fields and countries. I was particularly glad to see Lord Mayor, Peter Estlin, and witness this great event with other Londoners. On 11 November it was the centenary of Armistice, so our group went to see the wreath laying ceremony at Cenotaph and to pay tribute to those who sacrificed their lives in World War I and other wars. We shall never forget the past and the cost of wars. Sadly history is repeating itself and there are still many wars and conflicts in different parts of the world.

For our history class, London Through the Ages, one of the assignments is a map exercise which requires us to choose a neighborhood in London and create a historical walking tour. The neighborhood I chose is Knightsbridge and this assignment allowed me to explore that area for the first time. There are high-class department stores, expensive apartments, luxurious hotels and a world-class museum; and these are what Knightsbridge is known for. It is cool to see the transformation of Knightsbridge because of development after development over the years. My favorite places in Knightsbridge are Harrods and Victoria & Albert Museum. I am not into buying expensive items at Harrods, but the interiors there are truly impressive and decorative, especially now their Christmas decorations. Whereas for V&A Museum, I can spend hours inside to appreciate their vast collections. Last semester I took a Buddhist Arts course at Lewis & Clark, so I was glad to recognize some Buddhist statues from the periods and regions that I learned from that class.

Currently as a senior which means I will be graduating in six months and honestly it has been quite challenging for me to plan my future while studying abroad in London. Since I am not sure where I will land after graduation, I try to concentrate on the present and enjoy my last month in London as much as possible. In an LC alumni gathering held in early November, I learned from an alumna that there are always possible ways to work/live in London if I ever want to come back after graduation. However, Brexit will definitely add more uncertainty and let's see what will happen.

 —Jocelyn Mah

Fall is Here… or is it?

19 November — We’re over two months into our program, and the experiences have been amazing so far. I’ve explored Westminster Abbey, I’ve seen a political protest, I’ve experienced one of the most peaceful and moving displays of remembrance during Armistice Day. I’m enjoying my time here in London, and learning something new every day. I now know why people say there is no other city in the world like it.

But I can’t help but think there’s a little something missing. The air is getting colder, the leaves on (some) of the trees in the city are changing, and Christmas decorations are already adorning store windows. But, I still have to ask: where did autumn go?! I love the season, and it is one of the most beautiful times of year where I live. But I just don’t get the same feeling here as I do in Connecticut. The city has seemed to skip right from Halloween and straight to Christmas.

I’ve seen pieces of New England’s fall here in England, especially when I get out of Central London. For our neighborhood tour project, I went to Kew in order to take pictures and do more research. I visited the Royal Botanic Gardens and the National Archives, and I was truly amazed with the town. With a small population of only around 11,500, it is a type of town I’m more familiar with. The trees, the open spaces of grass, the slower pace, even the air reminded me of home, and, at the same time, nothing of London. As much as I have come to love the city, it was nice to see the skyscrapers as only a blip on the horizon.

The Royal Botanic Gardens were beautiful! They had plants from all over the world. My favorite part, though, was the Tree Walk. There is an elevated platform about eight meters in the air, and you can walk along the tops of the trees. It finally felt like fall to me when I could see all the colors, the warm hues a contrast to the cool, crisp air hitting my cheek among the treetops.

The end of my adventure in Kew was bittersweet. I was excited to get home and tell my friends about this amazing little town they should visit, but I also didn’t want to leave this remnant of home. I found myself just wandering down its streets, marveling at the scaffolders and the mechanic’s garage. I really could not help but feel connected to the space. But I knew it was time to go.

I eventually made my way back onto the tube and into Mile End. At first, I thought I was going to start resenting the city because of all that it lacked, and even some of the things it had too much of. But as I emerged from the station, I appreciated the city just as much as I did on my first day. I realized that just because things are different, that they are not like home, there is no reason to dislike them. Rather, it is more impressive when you are able to love what you have around you, even when it isn’t what you’re used to.

—Kaitlyn Moseley

View of London from Kew

A Reflection on London

16 November — Being in London is an experience I’ll never forget and always appreciate. My time in London is coming closer to its end and I am very grateful for the experiences I've had while here. I learned a lot about history through physical examples and cultural celebrations, learned more about city life, and learned more about how the education system in the United Kingdom differs from the United States.

In the past few weeks I was able to witness Guy Fawkes day, Remembrance Day, and visited many historical sites. In my previous post I mentioned being excited for Guy Fawkes day and how absurd I thought it was. I’m glad to say that I still think it’s really weird. They really did have giant bonfires where they burned effigies of Guy Fawkes. I also attended the Remembrance Day commemoration with the Lewis & Clark group last Sunday morning, which was an extremely touching ceremony marking the 100th anniversary of the World War I armistice. Today we walked by the office of Theresa May, where protestors were arrested for attempting graffiti. We also went to Winston Churchill’s war rooms—which had a really informative audio tour. The man really hated staples and paperclips. One of my favorite site visits was our tour of Parliament, which has really ostentatious architecture and decor. It was really interesting to see how the UK government differs from ours.

Being in London made me realize that I likely do not want to live in a big city, though I really enjoy all that there is to do here. I think I want more of a balance between urban and nature  (in other words I’ll probably become a suburbanite in the future). I also miss my American brands like Trader Joe’s, Trident Gum, Cheerios, and Top Ramen that doesn’t cost two bucks. I also won’t miss watching my flat mates dip vegetables in ketchup. I will, however, really miss the old and impressive architecture in this city that are strongly tied with history. This city has such a rich history that I couldn’t experience in the States. I will also miss the surprisingly nice weather, which I expected to be worse than Portland.

From what I’ve learned from my flat mates and experienced in classes, A-levels sound like hell (on an unrelated note, I also find it weird to see children in ties). They spend two years essentially studying for our equivalent of the SAT’s, after which they apply to colleges under a certain and specific field of study (and sometimes they are unable to have both the school they want and the field of study they want—which is also true for some schools in the United States, but to a lesser degree). If they do poorly on their A-Level exams, their prospects can be very limited. While I’m not a fan of the SAT (or standardized tests), I appreciate that I didn’t essentially have to dedicate two years of my life to studying for them.

—Noémie Cloutier

Take Advantage of Daily Pleasures

14 November —

“I hate people who are not serious about meals. It is so shallow of them.”

― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

Food is one of life’s daily pleasures.  We may not be able to go on vacation every other week, binge watch Netflix for as long as we like, or take a nap whenever the feeling strikes because time and money (for most of us) do not allow it. But you know what is completely justified and you happen to need to do it every few hours to stay alive? Eating! My favorite time of day is food time.  It is life throwing me a daily bone and saying “Hello Caroline! Enjoy life for the next 30 minutes because the rest of your day is going to suck!” And I do.  I enjoy the hell out of those 30 precious minutes and savor whatever I am eating because those will be the best 30 minutes of my day. I have been told that the feeling of loving food like it’s family is called being a Foodie. Do I identify as such? Eh, sure, maybe. However the real foodie in the room is London.  London appreciates good food and will take the time to do it right.

Before coming here, I was told to beware of the lack of food diversity.  I got the “all you’re are going to be eating for the next three months is fish and chips!” joke at least a thousand times.  The week before arriving in this supposed land of only yellow foods, I went on a goodbye tour of my favorite restaurants at home in Southern California, bemoaning that I would not be able to have another good taco for four months.  I was in mourning thinking about how much I would miss tamales, poke, and Pad Thai.  Then the strangest thing happened the first week I got here.  I was walking with a classmate to the park because we were going to study outside in the sun (before losing our only source of Vitamin D forever) and we literally ran into Victoria Park Market. I was mesmerized by the sight of a long row of food stalls, vendors of every nationality giving out free samples of their delicious foods. I walked down that long row of vendors like I was walking down the aisle at my wedding, floating on a cloud of bliss and anticipation. I don’t think I have ever been more at peace.  I’m pretty sure there was an angelic choir singing in the background, but who knows, I was a little distracted.  After swimming in the ecstasy of my possible eating delights, I thoroughly scoped out my choices and landed on a lamb ragu calzone that rocked my world. The man who I bought it from (his name was Joseph) was legitimately from Portofino, Italy, and let me sample all of the filling options before settling down with my lamb ragu.  I could have married him and his ragu on the spot.

After my blissful afternoon at Victoria Park, I felt so stupid.  This is a huge, multi-ethnic city with millions of people from all over the world.  Of course there is going to be amazing food. No one survives off of pub food alone.  Just like I make tacos in my dorm kitchen because I miss Mexican food daily, people bring and make the food from their homes.  People like to be comfortable in new places and what is more comforting than the food of your home and culture. I then made it my mission in life (or at least for the next couple months) to find and appreciate as much good food as I possibly could.  Plus, this hunt is also a convenient way to explore the city.  My expedition has led me all over this beautiful metropolis. My next stops were Camden Market (the land of stunning arepas and goulash), Southbank Food Centre Market (the spot where I had my first good taco in the city on an actual corn tortilla), Greenwich Market (incredible Haitian food and ramen), Brick Lane Market (where vats of curries lay in waiting), Chinatown (delicious dumplings), and Boxpark Shoreditch (with prodigious Pad Thai).  I still have a few weeks to seek out more food spots and I have a long list of ones to go to.  All I can do is wait for the next few hours until it is socially acceptable to eat again.

 —Caroline Wilkes

The Higher the Buildings the Lower the Morals

12 November — This past week was reading week here at Queen Mary. Reading week is governed by the same idea as reading days back at Lewis & Clark: some time without class to catch up on work or studying. From what I’ve heard from my fellow Queen Mary students, it is tradition for associate students to take the week to travel Europe, to explore London, and to generally ignore their coursework.

I have a little too much work due in the coming days to completely ignore my work, but I’ve done my best to combine the best of both worlds and have spent the past week exploring what London has to offer in terms of libraries, museums, and simply the physical London itself. A lot of my exploration has been helpful for assignments, and I’ve gotten a surprising amount of research done, so I don’t feel too guilty about the hours I’ve spent in the library (approximately 0.25) or the things I’ve checked off my to-do list (3 of 8).

I’ve seen parts of London I can’t imagine I would have otherwise seen. There’s something to be said for having the time to walk and explore without the immediate pressure of class or society meetings or coursework. London is a lived-in sort of place. London has lived and burned and lived again since the first century CE; coming from America, it is often hard to comprehend the sort of history I am seeing, everyday, with my bare eyes.

And yet parts of London feel plastic. They feel too new. The Stratford Westfield mall is a mammoth: a winding maze of stores and tourists and restaurants and, inexplicably, another one of the chain stores we passed just a few minutes ago. In the semi-darkness of a London night, the McDonald’s in Leicester Square boasts a pristine white and yellow exterior until nearly 3 in the morning.

I was told to expect old when I came to London, nearly 1,600 years of old that we never get at home in the “New World.” But I am reminded time and time again now that I am here that a lot of this “old,” especially the exciting bits, come from the largest empire the world has seen, one with a thorny and complex history of enslavement and colonization.

One of the many places I have visited this reading week was the Museum of London Docklands. The museum is a top-down experience; you begin on the top floor with a gallery on the origins of slavery in the British Empire and the continuing impact on the modern United Kingdom, before working your way down through time. The Docklands museum is a fantastic museum, in particular the first gallery on slavery. It is a thoughtful and informative exploration of how and why Britain became involved in the trade of people. While walking through the exhibit, however, I couldn’t help but be struck by the fact that it took 45 minutes of travel via TfL, plus some wandering around Canary Wharf, and the four flights of stairs it took to get to the top floor of the museum to finally read a placard that explicitly said “slavery is bad.”

Slavery is in many ways the foundation of modern Britain. Slavery funded wide-scale and iconic architectural changes in London, slavery changed the racial makeup of England significantly, slavery brought the funds for continued expansion of the British Empire into the New World and beyond. But slavery is also very bad, and I do not think I should have to look so far afield to find something that acknowledges the massive contribution of the slave trade to what was at the time the world power while also recognizing that it was unequivocally immoral and wrong.

Upon reflection, the plastic of London makes me uncomfortable because it feels like it is missing things. Blink, and the racist and xenophobic slave-owner is being immortalized as a successful businessman. The Museum of London lets you walk through model streets of the past—without the grime and the smell and the communicable diseases, of course. All over London, the past is retouched and retold.

Maybe it is a part of becoming something resembling an adult that has made me more aware of both my own personal history, but also the history of where I am from and the implications of that history. Maybe it is the academic study of history that has inspired me to think critically about how human society has gotten where it is today, has inspired me to explore both the positives and negatives of being a product of America in the 21st century. Regardless: I am conflicted. For a place with so much history, it is amazing how little London seems to be aware of its own past.

—Emma Celebrezze

Entry #2

9 November — In the eight or so weeks I have spent in London thus far I have already found a few of my favorite things. By this I mean I have already found my favorite place to grab a coffee and study, my favorite sushi restaurant, pub, shopping destination, neighborhood... you get the idea. While each of these locations offers me a place of comfort and sense of home, I have made an effort in the last few weeks to see every part of this city that I can in my remaining five weeks (which is too scary to think about).

About two weeks ago, a few of my group members and I took the tube to Liverpool Street to grab some sushi at a restaurant none of us had been to before. The moment we stepped out of the tube station each of us felt as if we had stepped into an entirely different city than when we had entered the Mile End station near campus. The sun had set, and while it was only about six o'clock, it could have easily been two in the morning. Our walk from the station to our restaurant felt almost like an out of body experience, as office buildings towered over us on either side, young business men and women were leaving work and heading into pubs or going home, all in a sort of frenzy. I felt as if I were transported into a dystopian novel, and I found this part of the city oddly intriguing. A few weeks later I returned to Liverpool Street during the day and found it a little more inviting and less as though George Orwell had written about it, but it still presented a great contrast to the London that I am used to experiencing.

Similarly, a few days ago I visited the Museum of London Docklands in Canary Wharf with a classmate. We both had a very similar experience to the time I previously mentioned, and were in disbelief with the feeling we had strolling between office building after office building, seeing nobody under the age of 30, let alone anyone wearing street clothes. I began to reflect on other areas of London that I have spent more time in, and my mind skipped to the evening I spent at the Tower of London on Remembrance Day. While walking on a path through the grass filled with candles it was hard to wrap my head around the idea that I was walking around a fortress that has been standing through numerous centuries of London’s history while still standing only a few miles from Canary Wharf or Liverpool Street. You can even take a look across the Thames as you stand near the Tower and you will see the Shard standing in company with similar incredibly tall glass office buildings. Not to mention St. Paul’s Cathedral which sits at the highest point in the city, as it is one of the most recognizable landmarks in London and one of the dozen projects of renowned architect Christopher Wren. This city has managed to maintain an essence of powerful history while evolving with grand innovation which I don’t expect to ever be used to. I appreciate finding comfort in this new place, and as I explore more of London the more I will have to miss once we depart back to Lewis & Clark.

 —Claire Greene

Life Growing from Hate; A Holocaust Survivors’ Grandson Experiences Germany

7 November — Life in London has been going very well. I’ve been adjusting positively to my classes, going rock climbing twice a week, skateboarding twice a week, staying social and meeting new people. I’ve started to cook vegetarian and have gotten accustomed to budgeting, shopping, cooking and cleaning for myself. Yet I could tell I wanted to see and experience more on this journey abroad then a life in London. So, when reading week came I decided it was time to get out.

First I had to figure out where I wanted to go and then make the plan. My grandma was born in Berlin and was forced to leave when she was a young girl. As a Jew, many of my distant relatives were likely killed in concentration camps in Germany. I felt a strong connection to Germany because it used to be the home of my family and my people before we were kicked out and murdered.  Additionally, a friend of mine from Lewis & Clark was studying in Munich and a friend from Queen Mary was planning a short trip to Berlin. It worked so I could spend the weekend in Munich and then fly up to Berlin for part of the week. The times overlapped so I booked my tickets, found a hostel in Berlin and went off on the trip.

The reality of traveling on your own hit me fast. It turned out I accidentally booked a ticket back from Berlin on Wednesday. I needed to be in class that morning. For whatever reason, even though this is the only week Queen Mary has no class, we have Lewis & Clark’s class Wednesday and we also have LC events planned all weekend we needed to be back for. Needless to say, I was very, very annoyed. But I am a student first, so I spent an extra forty-five euros and booked my ticket back from Berlin (I thought) on Tuesday. Only once I was on the trip did I realize that I accidentally booked my ticket back from Munich and not Berlin! So, I had messed up twice and did not have the money to buy a new ticket on such late notice. I ended up staying an extra night at the hostel and going home on the original ticket and just missing class. When traveling on your own, you sometimes just need to evaluate where you are at, take a step back and move on with the best options. These are skills that I’m happy to have learned young and in college rather than out on my own.

Munich was excellent and I got a picture into authentic German culture. I ate German food, saw modern German art, went to German bars and clubs and learned how to say “thank you” (danka) and “hello” (hallo). Modern-day Germany is a culture so far removed from my own culture and obviously one that I can never understand. To go back to a country that removed your grandparents and enjoy its culture and life is an act of rebellion in my opinion. To simply exist in a space where you would have been murdered if you were there seventy years earlier is quite the feeling.

Berlin continued with this theme as I went to the Jewish Museum. I went alone and at night, which I highly recommend. The Holocaust exhibits are disorienting, confusing and abstract. They’re designed to make you feel uncomfortable, out of place and scared the same way my ancestors felt when the Holocaust happened. The most touching piece of artwork for me was a garden outside that had 48 huge stone pillars that represented different cities Jews fled to after the Holocaust. Inside the museum, but a part of the exhibit, were the names of cities where they fled to. New York was there of course and I just remember walking up to where the name of the city was written down, touching it and having a small cry. For all my heritage to be so closely wrapped in this space was so moving. The museum ultimately spits you out onto a beautiful garden that reminded me of the garden at my Hebrew School. It is filled with trees and grass and shows that no matter what happens, no matter how we are moved or killed, life still rebuilds and finds a way.

The trees in the garden of the museum, the nightclubs in Munich, the rhythm of the Berlin subways and buses, they all made it clear that Germany is a country that moves with life. It does not let its destructive past define it and instead it moves on to a better inclusive and exciting society. By traveling to the land of my ancestors, I felt this reconnection and understanding that life does and will move ahead even in the face of the purest forms of hate.

—Dan Koster

However

5 November — London isn’t for everyone. That makes sense. Sushi isn’t for everyone. Skydiving isn’t for everyone. Salvador Dali isn’t for everyone. I’m not sure why I didn’t think to apply the widely understood concept that not everyone likes everything to the city, though the fact that most people I spoke to before I left told me how great London is and how I wasn’t going to want to leave and that I would come back to the States a changed person. That last point is probably true; I have grown a bit in the past two months and have learned a lot about myself. One of the things I have learned is that I never want to live in a city.

Before coming to London, I tried to keep my expectations at bay. Despite that, there was part of me that hoped my future self might end up in London as an editor at a publishing house (a girl can dream). Or I started to wonder if London might be the place to apply to grad schools for an MA in Literature or Gender & LGBT studies. My academic and professional goals were excited by the city—I would have access to more diversity than I could fathom and might begin to navigate the intricate spaces and social groups that intertwine in London’s demographic tapestry.

Somewhere along the way I guess I must have “forgotten” that I am a quiet, highly sensitive introvert. Loud, crowded places make me uncomfortable. Scotland (especially the Highlands) satisfied my desire for greenery and nature. The landscape was calming and we spent a disproportionate amount of time in small towns. I loved it. So much of me felt nourished and comforted because it reminded me, in ways, of the parts of Idaho that I hold close to my heart.

The first two weeks in London were overwhelming. I had never been around so many people in my life. I was unaccustomed to the smells, noises, and general atmosphere of the city. Things calmed down once classes started at Queen Mary because academic arenas are familiar to me, even though the structure of my classes here differ from the ones I take at Lewis & Clark. My process of getting accustomed to “city life” began when I started to look for things that were less unfamiliar or overwhelming than other things: museums, cafes, parks. These are still the places I go when I feel homesick for a bit of quiet, or a bit of greenery, or my favorite coffee shops back home.

London isn’t for me: BUT, that comes with a huge “however.” I am so grateful to be here because I have access to a multitude of resources for things that I care about. When people ask me why I chose the London Humanities Study Abroad program, I bring up my major. I have been reading and loving books since I was three and I adore my English major because I get to think about the way words and literature affect society. Within London itself I have access to not only numerous manuscripts, but the pub Charles Dickens spent time in and Virginia Woolf’s house. I can take the train to the Bronte Parsonage Museum in Haworth or go to Oxford to see where Lewis Carroll and J.R.R Tolkien created some of the most well known fantastical worlds. On those train rides I get to see the countryside, a beautiful landscape dotted with church steeples that vastly differs from my experience driving across Idaho (where the brown landscape is dotted with dairy farms).

London is known for its night life. On Friday and Saturday nights I see groups of people my age dressed to go out to the seemingly infinite number of pubs and clubs. They’re laughing and having fun and probably (definitely) a bit intoxicated. From what it seems, the evenings serve them well most of the time. I can appreciate wanting to get dressed up, go out, and dance until tonight becomes tomorrow, but let’s be honest: that isn’t my scene most of the time. I felt uneasy about this for a little while, as if someone might tell me off or say that the reason I’m not getting on with London is because I don’t go out enough (or, God forbid, that I don’t drink). But I shouldn’t have to change myself in order to like something. I’ve traded the loud top 40’s beats in a basement for a café a block from King's Cross Station that plays The Internet and has a hummingbird painted on the wall. I’d go for the walk at 9 am on Saturday mornings to a row of coffee shops not far from our campus over the cold walk home from Mile End station when its dark and after midnight. I’m lucky enough to be able to watch the sunrise from my kitchen in Pooley undisturbed.

I love hearing different accents with every coffee shop I step into. I know that if I need an hour or two of quiet, I can go to a museum and wander or sit. London has a lot to offer everyone. Whenever someone from back home asks how I like it here, I answer them honestly. I try not to gloss over the fact that I am not a city girl. Then I immediately tell them what I have liked, the surprising opportunities I have stumbled into (like a Queer Women’s Media Convention, fantastic theatre productions, a concert by my favorite artist that made me cry). I am saying “yes” more and pushing my boundaries, challenging myself to find parts of London that gratify me as a quiet person. That can get exhausting, and sometimes I just wish I was back in a place where I could actually see stars at night.

I don’t hate London by any means, and I don’t know if I will get a full view of what it has to offer before I leave. There is a lot of good here. I just thought that I would like it a little more by now. My relationship with London sounds like some break-up letter: “It’s not you, it’s me” and “I think we just want different things.” I like that being here has given me the opportunity to connect with a smaller group of people from Lewis & Clark, and I now have a greater appreciation of the things that are distinctly “Portlandian” or “Idahoan.”

I am not going to like everything I try. However, I would be more concerned if I wasn’t trying anything. I find ways to broaden my view of the city and England. I approach every new experience with an open mind. What more can you do?

—India Roper-Moyes

Entry #2

2 November — I've never been someone who was naturally interested in history. Growing up, I would always be easily distracted and lose my attention when stumbling upon random facts or reading captions at history museums. If the topic or period was not related to me, my country, or my interests, then what was the point? My category of "relevant" was very limited, confined to what I thought "everyone has to know" and what little caught my attention. And unfortunately, I wouldn't be honest with myself if I didn't admit that this attitude has carried on into my present.

Sure, my understanding of what is "relevant" has expanded. Not only have I learned the value of other aspects of my identity but I have understood the relevance of understanding those of others. Moreover, understanding how we understand history is something I have recently adopted into how I learn about the past, as it is a constant talking point at my history seminars at Queen Mary. Nonetheless, I still need to affix a clear purpose to my study of a certain historical period, event or figure.

Because of this mindset, I often find myself struggling to relate things back to a purpose. Unfortunately, knowledge is often the means to an end, rather than an end in itself. There is also a clear expectation in my mind about finding something in history that other disciplines cannot, as though the discipline was a wise elder from whom I demanded answers to questions about the chaotic and the dumbfounding aspects of our present. But, the way in which we have been learning about London have sparked a kind of new attitude in me.

I realized this change in perception just fairly recently.  Just today, while waiting for the bus, I asked myself “Why did I find history to be boorish at times? It's literally the compilation do the stories of people and places!” What the historian does is something fascinating, a systematic mapping of the stories of humanity and the world.

I can characterize these past few weeks of history lessons as a process of patient discovery, attentive listening and careful observation.  Walking through the streets of London has turned somewhat into detective work for me, an exercise of careful observation and purposeful imagination. Sure, it's impressive to gaze at the grace and beauty of Westminster (which, I'm not gonna lie, is one of the most beautiful pieces of architecture I have seen) or to stand on the Prime Meridian at the Greenwich Observatory, but it is through the less obvious discoveries that I find myself appreciating history for the sake of the subject matter. To try to imagine what the little street, on which the Great London fire started, would look like back in 1666. Or to fathom the many phases that St Paul's went through to stand as it does today (it was torn down and built around several times).

Today, my walks and strolls in London are very different than from a month ago. My gaze sets upon more buildings, streets and alleyways. I find myself asking questions not to know the answers relevant to my present, but to understand the true nature of what surrounds me. To understand London for the sake of London, which was surprisingly led me to understand a lot more than what I thought I would.
 

—Emma Franco Ceceña