Greetings from London! I hope all of you in Binghamton are having a more productive and hopefully warmer start to the spring semester than I am. Not to imply that I haven’t been keeping up with my studies, but in a city as enriched with history, culture and shopping areas as London, the discipline needed to read through Joyce’s “Dubliners” or write a paper completely diminishes.
Since arriving in London I’ve learned about British history, visited and explored many historical sites — including Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abbey — and have seen more theater productions in three weeks than I have in all my 20 years. I was even given the opportunity to visit Shakespeare’s grave in Stratford-Upon-Avon — the true definition of a British experience.
I must admit, though, that the most important and perhaps most interesting knowledge that I have acquired since coming to the United Kingdom is what it means to be American.
It may seem strange, but it’s the truth. There’s nothing quite like living in another country and engaging with its citizens, culture and laws to help one understand, if not appreciate, one’s homeland. It is only when one is outside one’s environment that one can find both the fault and fascination that the environment and its people have and examine the realities of one’s home.
For instance, Americans talk quite loudly. As a New Yorker, such a fact was not surprising. On the other hand, it is extremely awkward and embarrassing when the only voice you can hear on a crowded street is your own and/or your American companion’s. British people tend to talk at a lower decibel level, which makes me wonder: Why do Americans talk so loud?
Why do we feel the need to express our thoughts with such booming clarity, when people from other cultures can do so without making it sound like an open forum? What is our obsession with being heard and understood to the point that it becomes obnoxious? Now when I take the tube or walk the streets, I find myself wanting to talk in a lower voice and, in doing so, spotting other Americans who haven’t caught on.
Another aspect of English culture that has made me wonder about American customs and standards is the fact that nothing is sold in bulk or economy size. No British version of Costco, BJ’s or Walmart exists to satisfy one’s need to buy a three-month supply of cereal for cheap. Food portions, from restaurant servings to groceries, that cross the Atlantic are just smaller.
Having such food standards and regulations has to be doing some good, for I haven’t seen one overweight person upon arrival. Unfortunately in the U.S., overweight people are too common a sight. The obesity epidemic which plagues our country is not solely the fault of fast food restaurant chains. The massive portions we consume either at home or in restaurants also contribute to our nation’s declining health and increasing obesity issue.
Hopefully, the only increasingly obese thing here will be my expanding insights into and experiences with British culture.