Blowin’ in the Wind or Which way the Wind Blows

The wind is intangible, may be that is why I don’t like the English wind. In London, it is cold, irritating, frustrating and causes my unruly curls to take flight and create complete disarray leaving me looking like Cousin ITT from the Addams Family.

It is August and I can think of a week… ok, may be two weeks at most, where a scarf or jumper wasn’t required. Jack and I wondered how the summer escaped us. Funny how previously we longed for cooler days, as there were times when we felt like we were melting in the Texas sun, but we long for summer days now!

Jack and I are typically outdoorsy people and this weather has not only negatively impacted many of our social agendas, but it hinders our hobbies and lifestyle of cycling and jogging, etc. Even leisure tasks, such as walking to our near market or town area are un-enjoyable due to the wind and ways of getting around. Rain is not a problem, and we get plenty of rain and opportunities for the brellas, (we both should own a pair of wellies (rain shoes) but it is the combination of rain and wind that are bothersome. Commuting is a whole other topic.

Are the answers with our dilemmas living in London obvious, so obvious that they are blowin' in the wind right in front of us....

Partly Cloudy

Today, while beginning my jog, I took in the weather. Partly cloudy I thought to myself. Then my thought immediately transferred to how ironic it was that London is usually partly or mostly cloudy most days, and it struck me how funny it was that its weather seems to mirror the Londoners. My concept of Londoners after living here for 7 months is that they resemble mood swings similar to the weather. Partly to mostly cloudy in that they typically show no positive emotions what so ever, and many portray other emotions such as anger, anxiety, confusion and worry. During my daily commutes, I rarely see a person smile or display happiness, but I do see the other emotions mentioned above. Come to think of it, not even when I am walking down the streets and I throw out a smile to a stranger is it returned! Humorously, I recall in my mind’s eye a poster in a tube within the last week; it was some campaign about trying to persuade people to actually smile to a stranger. In fact, most everyone is so fast-paced and inconsiderate during commuting hours that I have wondered during my journeys if someone were to have an accident and lose footing, would they be trampled on.

By now in my jog, I am pondering the differences of the U.S. culture and British culture. Then my mind transfers to some recent conversations I have had in the workplace. Comments such as hm, that is an interesting idea, is perhaps really one’s way of disagreeing where as in the U.S. one would say you have got to be kidding and be straightforward. Or, I am not quite with you on that one probably really means you are talking bullshit.

I observe on a regular basis insular tenacity from colleagues which results in a failure to comprehend differing values in others. I think back over my experiences thus far of living in London and compare it to what I had envisioned to test the discrepancies. I recognize that what I am expressing also mirrors some of the same stereotypes around the stiff upper lip. I hear other English and Scottish exclaim how they hate coming into the city also, and when I ask why, they share similar views around the lack of friendliness, overcrowding, etc.

I once read a book that discussed British insularity. It discussed how Brits generally have a feeling that ‘foreigners’ intend to outsmart them. I work in an environment where the majority of the leaders of this particular division are American, and I often hear the term American referenced by non-Americans. I wonder, it is appropriate to place such value and judgments on ones culture?

We continue to see things partly cloudy and strive for sunny days.

Meeting of the Minds

This is one of my favorite pictures; this was taken right before we were moving to London. Mutual assets or meeting of the minds can be destroyed by actions such as duress, mistakes or misrepresentation, etc. With us both equally optimistic that we have made a good decision to move to London, there is always a tiny bit of us that doubts our decision, hoping that we made no mistake and the opportunities for growth and the positions we accepted weren’t misrepresented. Also, like many things, relationships are a contract which exist among individuals with promises and obligations. We were both involved in making the decision and aware of risks, etc., therefore, there was a meeting of the minds.
The photographers were Hazel and Tony Hong, who are great friends and do amazing photography.

Life in the Fast Lane

To sum up the biggest difference this far, is the fact that we totally rely on public transportation to get us nearly everywhere. Our day typically begins early, as we walk to the nearest train station which is about 15 minutes away. Our goal is to be at the gym when it opens (6:30am), so we can claim a pool lane. Another thing, we have to be really aware and manage our time more efficiently, because certain trains only come at certain times, and if we miss it, it delays us getting to the pool. I think that is what makes London such a fast-paced city; everyone has some place to get to, and a personal agenda, and everyone wants to squeeze more into their life. It feels like such an ordeal to plan to go into town due to the planning of how to get there, etc.

When we arrive to the main train station to catch the tube to our stop, (the tube ride is about 6-7 stops away), it always is amazing how many people are in the main stations. (It is particularly bad during the rush hours). It reminds me of the Jackson Pollock painting, “Lavender” because everyone is going different directions. Some times I watch carefully to see how many people literally run into each other. Usually though, it is like a carefully planned dance with strangers moving at a rigorous pace. Often times, I feel like I need body amour to protect myself from the impact when someone does collide into me.

After we reach our final tube stop, the walk to the gym isn’t too far away. The gym is below the railway which adds some rumbles to our workouts! It is really nice, but when I think about how far under the earth I am, and when I can slightly hear the underground tubes running parallel to the gym walls, it freaks me out a bit. We pay a small fortune to belong to a private gym.

Once we finish with our workouts, we either walk to work or catch a bus if we can manage to squeeze ourselves on. Some times the buses are so full, that at times we are literally pushing ourselves into strangers just to get a lift. The walk to work is about 15-20 minutes at a fast pace.

Jack and I work at the same building, in the same room, about 50 meters away from each other. This was a surprise to us, as we knew we would be working in the same building, but didn’t know it would be in the same floor or same room. Our downfall is the little Starbucks that is right across our building’s front door. At least a couple days a week we meet for a latte.

One of my favorite people and someone I look forward to seeing on a daily basis is our building security officer, John. He is Irish and is such a delight. He greets us each day by name. At times, it is as though he knows when some thing may not be going as planned for me; he is always there to say “Ang, what is up Love” or “Ang, are you okay?” He was the first person Jack and I met when we popped into check out our new office before our first day. Unlike so many people in London, he is always cheerful and smiling.

When our days are over at work, we usually start the commute home together. We only live a little over 5 miles from work, and it takes us either between 1-1 ½ hours to get home due to the chaos and dense population.