Skyler Aldrich: Same Language, Different World

It was a crisp fall morning, earlier than I had woken up intentionally in quite a while. I made myself a cup of tea, packed up my film camera and a couple other things I’d swore I needed and walked out into the damp, early English fog. It had only been a few weeks since I had started my semester at the University of Winchester and I had been dying for some adventure. England, despite its culture and history being very similar to the United States, was full of new experiences and adventures that I was eager to sink my teeth into. Waking up before the sun was an easy tradeoff for an all-day excursion into London.

I drank my tea some of which had already managed to spill down the side of both the cup and my shirt as a group of other excursionists stood off to the side. Early morning socialization is not my strong suit so I listened in to their conversations and realized they were all American, or at the very least not British.

I kept to myself, a common trend in my international adventure, until two girls walked up,  talking to each other as they went. These two appeared to enjoy my early morning anti-social mannerisms and decided to strike up a conversation. They introduced themselves as Dre, a Yankeee like myself from Boston, and Elin, an international student from Norway. Despite us being from across the globe, we all seemed to share the same anxiety and excitement about visiting the capital city.

The bus arrived late, as public transit often is, and we all clambered on as the tour guide began walking up and down the center aisle, calling attendance and handing out maps. The urge to collect physical representations of where we have been and use it for navigation in a time of such advanced technology has always followed me along in new territories. Halfway on our journey, the tour guide called our attention to give us a word of warning. We would be arriving in London on the same day as a large anti-Brexit, a march planning to span a majority of downtown London.

“It’s going to be much busier than normal, think New York level of business,” the tour guide said as he pointed out the procession of the protesters. “And there will be policemen with guns, some of these will be large guns. Please just remember, they will not shoot you.” He announced this last phrase in what I assumed to be an attempt to reassure his audience. I couldn’t help but laugh, honestly, laughed in my seat with one ear bud still in, drowning out his continued spiel on safety in the city. The realization slowly began to sink in that gun carrying was nowhere as near common as it was back in the United States. Gun ownership was a process ten times more difficult in the United Kingdom in comparison to the 3-day waiting period and background check that was the normal back home. It shocked me how cultures and societies that I had assumed and experienced to be so similar could differ on this one policy.

I shrugged off this warning, as what he was suggesting was the normality of living in a large American city, such as New York or Boston, both of which I had visited in the past. Already having an itinerary planned out, visiting the Tower of London, walking across the London Bridge and hopefully somehow getting lost, I was not going to let American-like British political climate get in my way. Attempting to sink back into my podcast in preparation of the tinge of car sickness I knew was coming, I was selected by Dre and Elin to discuss our plans in the light of the police presence that would be in London. I shrugged and said that this environment was nothing new to me and that I would be continuing with the itinerary I had planned for weeks previously. Expecting Dre to agree with my stance on the situation, I mainly spoke to Elin but was surprised when Dre voiced her concerns. I couldn’t help but mention that armed guards wandered the terminals of Logan International Airport when I had left Boston only a month or so ago. As they regrouped to change their plans, I sat in silence for the rest of the journey.

After arriving in London, every single person got off the bus and followed the tour guide on a 2-hour tour of the city, leaving only an hour or two to roam around one of the world's most famous capital cities. I, however, put my earbuds back in, turned on my GPS and headed off towards the nearest Underground station. This city was no different than New York or Boston to me, except for the fact that I had to look the wrong way to check before I crossed the streets. The buildings were tall, streets and sidewalks were crowded, and the air had a tinge of trash, pollution and sewer, yet not to the concentration of the American cities. On my way through the Underground to reach the Tower of London, about an hour train ride away from our meeting location, I was stopped and asked for directions. Not once, not twice, but four times, I received a hand waved in my face or a tap on my shoulder, a universal signal to take out one's earbuds and give their undivided attention to a stranger. Either my indifference to the public around me or my overall appearance was unintentionally signaling that I was a London native, putting me in the position to struggle to pass out directions, using only a paper map (my phone did not have signal underground.)

 The Tower of London was spectacular, despite the ominous rainclouds that seemed to stalk the sun against the midday sky. While it maintained it tourist trap lure, the Tower of London contained an extensive line of history that American historical landmarks seemed to lack due to the young age of our country. The people were curt, taking their time to soak and take in the history around them. Children were the complete opposite, running around and screaming out of turn and place. Their heavy accents and the yelling of their parents identified them as English children, creating a stereotype in my head that would soon be later reinforced. A sharp contrast between them and the more traditional rearing of children that can be within the American South was another shock to my presumptions of this country.

Walking back to the bus, I took in the subtle differences of London, the streets closed off for outside cafes, the cleanness and crispness of the air and even the architecture of the newer apartment buildings having a call back to more classic British styles. On the ride back to Winchester, I read a book I had bought in a local bookstore and ended up falling asleep. Returning back to the dorm in the late afternoon, people were just starting to stubble out of their dorms on their way to either a pub or club in town. They laughed and called out to each other from across the road boisterously, full drinks of something alcoholic in their hands. While this seemed like this stereotypical American campus that one would see on television shows or in movies, slight differences made the viewer aware that they weren’t quite home anymore. The whole country appeared to make me feel this way. A person from Peru or China that would experience both British and American cultures would fail to see the small, intricate details that make our cultures uniquely their own. I had an opportunity to not only see the large cultural differences but also be able to experience the smaller details. Despite my worries that this study-abroad experience was not as “abroad” as someone attending classes in Korea or Spain, I realized that I had a lot to learn about British culture, history and societal customs in the rest of the two months that I still had left in the country.

Skyler Aldrich is a dual psychology and biology major at Lander University. She studied abroad at the University of Winchester in Winchester, U.K. during the Fall 2019 semester. After graduating from Lander University in 2021, she plans on returning to the University of Winchester to earn her masters and doctorate in clinical psychology.