Oberlin

It's funny to look back at my last blog. My writing was rushed and harried, like I was. I was concentrating on material details: the schedule, the outlets, the source of my next meal. These are the rudimentary parts of transitioning to a new place. How do I get to class? Am I safe? I think Maslow's hierarchy of needs describes the stages of transition pretty well.

I'm happy to say that after a week, I've moved on from just thinking about survival. Enter transition 2.0. This is a slower, more emotionally complicated process of disentanglement from the past and grounding myself in this new place. When you get off the plane, you haven't "arrived" yet.

The transition from Oberlin to London (even "Oberlin-in-London") involves a series of connected but distinct changes: campus to city, USA to Britain, USA to anywhere that's not the USA, and Oberlin to anywhere that's not Oberlin. The first of these, campus to city, might be the most emotionally grueling for me, probably due to my upbringing. I spent the first 15 years of my life in Germany and the Netherlands, so being back in Western Europe does feel like a bit of a homecoming. But I've always had a built-in community-place, a literal place where my community was centered. In Holland, it was the American School of the Hague, in High School, Saint Paul Academy dominated my life, and Oberlin, well that's definitely a Place with a capital P.

London is also a place, but it's so huge and bustling that there are 10,000 Places in it. In trying to describe London to a friend at Oberlin, I said, there's a lot of London there. This makes it exciting, but it's easy to feel lost even when you know exactly where you are and how to get home. I guess that's where I am right now. The FSU study center is totally adequate as a teaching facility, but it's definitely not a center of gravity. I guess my flat is the closest thing, but it's not really a public space in the same way that Tappan Square is.

Here are some Places that I've found in London so far:

1) I try to take a new walking route to class every morning. This morning, Isaac, Robin and I took a route that involved some cobblestone alleyways. It's hard to explain how cool these Places are to someone that hasn't been there. Imagine a standard doorway, and double the width. That's how narrow these alleys are. Some duck under the arches of old pubs or grace the back entrances of Anglican churches, and they're always laid in cobblestone. Finding one, it's like finding out a secret. When the alienation of the bustling Oxford Street gets to be too much for me, I look for London's intimacy in its old alleys.

2) There's a pub near our flat called The Champion. It's a Samuel Smith pub, which means that it's owned by the British brewery. It also means that you can get a pint for less than 3 pounds, which is a steal in this town. The floors, walls, ceiling, bar, tables, and chairs are all made of dark, polished wood. There's real stained glass windows depicting "sport," as it meant in the 19th century, meaning men in fancy dress with a club or racket in hand, surrounded by green. The bartender there told me I was "pretty," before quickly adding, "you know that's a compliment in the U.K." I'm glad that my friends aren't seventh grade boys, because they would still be making fun of me. Oh wait, they are.

Transitions can be fun, and they can be hard. Those things are not opposites. I think the most important thing for me to remember at this point is to be patient. This could take awhile, but I might as well enjoy the ride.