I act freely when I am tuned in, centered, and loving. If possible I avoid acting when I am emotionally upset and depriving myself of the wisdom that flows from love and expanded consciousness.
I wonder if by “acting” he includes “writing.” If so, then I’d better pack it in right now since I am in one foul mood at the moment. (Which is an interesting turn of events, given the way the day has seesawed back and forth between emotions, but I’ll say more about that later.) The thing that has me most pissed off is the fact that I don’t currently have Internet connectivity, which obviously you can’t really tell since you’re reading this, albeit considerably later than I wanted to post it. By two or more days, actually. So I’d better back up a bit and explain.
First, I’m having PC troubles again: more power supply issues. Grrrr! I think I’ve already mentioned this, but it bears repeating after I’ve spent more than $600 to repair a $999 computer (something Hewlett Bastard really should have done gratis considering it was their fuck-up that caused the blown motherboard in the first place, but that’s a rant for another blog). To say the least I have no desire to spend more money on a new PC at this juncture. But thank god I’m a fanatical backer-upper. (Sometimes it pays to be a skeptic.)
The day started out inauspiciously, kicking off my foul mood. The Victoria line was shut down again, although I didn’t arrive late after all. I even airmailed a cheque at the post office along the way. Still, I found something to worry about – namely the poor seal on the envelope – so I didn’t have to waste a perfectly good upset.
Today’s programme included talks regarding the NHS health care system mental health – namely, culture shock. Now, an admitted anglophile like myself might be tempted to feel self-righteously smug and say, “What, me suffer from culture shock?!” But the truth of the matter is, I’m experiencing culture shock big-time. Our speaker explained the so-called adjustment “W curve,” which to say the least was really useful to know – and certainly applicable in my case. Suffice to say I manage to cycle through the first few bends in the W-curve within a single day. It’s good to know that I’m not alone in this.
The five W-curve stages of adjustment are the Honeymoon stage (fairly self-explanatory), the Disintegration stage (wherein you basically find out everything you know is wrong and confusion, isolation and all manner of fun things set in), the Reintegration stage (where you get angry, hostile, frustrated, and generally reject the differences of the new country), the Autonomy stage (where things start to come together again and confidence is at least partially restored) and finally the Independence stage, where you begin to reassert your own cultural values (etc.) even in the midst of the new culture. We are warned that this may happen at varying speeds and at varying times; symptoms can manifest physically.
It is not pretty. It is worrisome. My own honeymoon was quite short, and we never quite consumated the relationship anyway (I mean, I've been here and done that several times before, so it was more like a yawn, a roll over, and a goodnight. Oh yes, just to clarify, I'm talking about the figurative honeymoon phase of the culture shock adjustment here -- not the real thing! That was fabulous, thanks.) Anyway, it does help to know that it happens to the best of us, and it is entirely normal (if unpleasant). Please feel free to remind me of this if you hear me waffling on about how much I hate it here, and how I want to come home.
I managed some shopping on the lunchtime break and finally bought an umbrella – not cheap, but small & portable. Rounding out the afternoon was a talk on personal safety by a genuine London policeman. Without meaning to sound disrespectful, the guy who delivered the talk – to be fair, a stand-in for the regular community affairs officer – was exactly the type on whom I image the common English “PC Plod” caricature was based. Enough said.
Suddenly it was time for the boat cruise. Sharon had recommended I join if it was going to Greenwich; unfortunately when I bought my ticket no one could tell me whether or not this would be the case because it was dependent on the tide. As luck would have it, we did wind up going there and the journey turned out to be worthwhile indeed. To think I almost didn’t go, and in fact had almost turned around and came back to Wigram House, after a substantial delay caused by almost getting on the wrong tube. (Victoria Line, indeed: for one I should have followed my own instincts and got on the District or Circle lines, and not listened to that knob. Silly foreigner.)
Ultimately I caught up with the crowd and followed them to Swan Pier, practically underneath the venerable London Bridge. This was unfortunate since our boat (the Dutch Master) was actually waiting for us further down the river at another pier, but after snaking along the Thames walk – we must have looked quite a sight! – we found the boat and boarded, once we were searched for weapons and god knows what. The times, they are a-changin’.
Once aboard I met fellow exiles from Soviet Canuckistan (© Pat Robertson), namely Ashley (from Toronto) and Max (Montreal) who interestingly is studying entertainment la. I also met a whole bunch of other people from such far-flung places as Tanzania, Bulgaria, Romania, Italy, the Seychelles, Vietnam, and Sweden, among others. It’s like a miniature United Nations here, minus the Security Council. And without the dysfunction. Or the indecision.
Up the Thames we sailed, with a beautiful sunset poking through the clouds. Once again we were blessed with no rain despite a constant threat all day. Just as we were passing under the Tower Bridge, which was all lit up in its majestic glory, a man who had apparently just proposed to his girlfriend held up his new fiancée’s ring-bedecked hand in triumph, and we all cheered and applauded like mad. I hope it proves to be a good start to their life together. It certainly looked like a good omen for us students, anyway.
All in all, I had a lot of fun. I say that because I surprised myself. I felt rather awkward, being the old man of the group. In fact one of the participants asked me if I was one of the lecturers, and I didn’t have a fast enough comeback for that. But I danced a lot, anyway. I have to say it still bugs me that while the tunes are sufficiently familiar, I can’t name who the artists are… except for Gnarls Barkley, of course. I was ahead of the curve on that one. As for the rest, clearly I am no longer the maven I once thought I was.
(Warning: this next bit of blog gets a bit traveloggish.) Along the route we passed a mysterious green (?) laser light that seemed to curve around the horizon, and famous landmarks that included a tall wooden ship, some Faberge egg-shaped building, the Millennium Dome, those strange, large shapes in the middle of the river that no one (including search engines) seems to know what they are, the London Eye, a big Vatican-style plaza next to the Cutty Sark, the Greenwich observatory, Cleopatra’s Needle, the gorgeous condos on the river… how much must those cost, I wonder?? We also saw the CitiGroup building (and its equally impressive neighbours) from a several different of angles, which confused the hell out of me because I’m directionally challenged at the best of times. The single-malt scotch and two beers probably didn’t help.
Did I mention that I’m looking forward to my own toilet & shower? After getting home I started packing for the move to Harrow. The good news, via my new Romanian friend Magda, is that the Harrow campus residences are bigger, newer, and better in most every way than the quaint but postage stamp-sized rooms that are Wigram Hall. She’s already seen them, so I am more than happy to take her word for it. I should add that Wigram Hall wasn’t bad, wildlife aside, but it was very small (in that space-challenged European way), to the point where you have to go outside to change your mind. Furthermore my room was on the inside of the hall, facing the “courtyard” (if you can call it that), i.e., a very echoey, noisy place especially since all windows are kept open in this heat. (On the plus side I haven’t seen any more cockroaches since that first day, so that’s a bonus.) And hopefully they’ll have Internet connectivity as soon as we check in. Which I don’t have now, possibly because they’ve already cut it off.
Damn. I’ll try again in the morning.
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