The Scenery
Culture shock is maddening. When one is making the adjustment to a place as similar to ones own nation, as the UK is to a Yank like me, its particularly frustrating. It isn’t poor facilities, inability to communicate in a common language (though that one is up for debate) or that I’m laid out with Montezuma’s revenge as in other culture shock experiences I’ve had. Its frustrating, because its so irritatingly passive. It bothers you to death, without being impolite enough to piss you off entirely. Its not that I’ve found a lack of lovely people, friendly faces and kindness, I have and I love them to death – its just an inevitably awful part of adjustment.
As a good friend just wrote “it is tough going from (home), where you are the center of a number of universes, to there where you peripherally orbit others.” And home is your Universe – and you understand the laws of nature. I guess I like being the center of the Universe… and I like spelling centre with an “er” without having to explain myself.
I’ve been having an exasperating time with bureaucracy. Everything is a perfect circle, where if I keep moving in the direction I’ve been ever so politely told to go, I am guaranteed never to get anywhere… with passes, visas, bank accounts etc… It feels like an insider, isolating, island-mentality state playing ring around the rosy with the fresh-faced American. I’m not averse to playing by new rules, but the rules in the game are rather indistinctly defined.
And after tonight I’ve decided, I am going to love it. I’ve described culture shock in Britain like running in the sand – instead of a solid path. You expend twice the energy to go half distance. On my worst days I run. I tune out the world with driving tunes and run in the park, with overstated breathing and unnecessary embellished grunting as I drop for pushups in the mud and rain. Tonight I ran so hard I threw up.
It felt great.
I was running on a solid surface, and I was passing those lovely limeys like Mario Andretti at the Daytona 500. I felt equal… but faster.
But the reason I decided tonight that I’m going to love this adjustment is the same reason, given the choice, I would choose to run on the beach over the solid road by my house…
the scenery.
I am seeing so much from here…
3 comments:
You'll manage, the British get fed up with bureaucracy as well! :-)
So, I've been reading and following links which was slightly disturbing--why does your coworker think that you are the antichrist? Much less distressing--what exactly is office cricket and do the British kids let you play?
My coworker is a nutter and should be ingnored as often as not - office cricket is like... work place baseball and the British kids are 28 and 40ish, but yes, they let me play.
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