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October, 2004
Ellie Satter
So we have seven more weeks in London town and I have come to a few conclusions since I have set foot on shore. The main thing I have discovered is the fact that I am not British. In no way do I posses the likeness of a Brit. I am not just saying this to state the obvious; there are a few reasons why I feel this way. Let me explain.
From the moment of arrival I have felt like my hearing has decreased. I sometimes wonder if I need a hearing aid. These thoughts were concerning me until I realized the problem was not me nor my ears, it was them. People here talk much much softer and I am used to. I admit I am a loud person by nature but these people are like church mice. When I go up to a counter to pay for something, I have to get prepared to lean over the counter to speak to them. This trend does not only apply to the people with a British accent, it applies to everyone on this soil that is not American. My ears have gotten very good at spotting the
Americans, it’s new game I have invented in my head. The tube is the easiest place. The tube is a tube of dead silence. My first few rides I thought I was at a wake or something, but no, I am just in London. So the tube is the easiest place to spot the Americans because they are the ones talking at full voice and laughing louder than the tube engine itself. Americans give themselves away
sometimes, and the game is no longer fun. One of my favourite Americans was a man who had a bag that looked as if it was made out of quilt material. On this lovely bag were icons of America, the route 66 sign, lady liberty, and Elvis. It was one awesome bag. This same man had a handle bar moustache, was wearing tight Levis and cowboy boots, and was sporting a Garth Brooks black t-shirt that was far too tight for his Budweiser belly. This man made me miss home (just a little) and wonder if I stood out like he did.
I have also picked up on the American stereotype. ALL Americans are loud, ALL Americans have money, ALL Americans love Mr. Bush, and ALL Americans are clueless. So I do admit some of these apply to me, but to clump the whole of America into five little categories is just rude. The first few weeks I was ashamed of my very American accent and I tried to pull off the British accent, I failed miserably. Since then I have made a mental note to say “so what!” So what if they have this picture of
Americans in their heads…I am here to prove them wrong. I think so far I may be doing a pretty good job (I haven’t been called a stupid American yet!)
The people in London are classy! I mean classy! I have never seen everyone with such an air of class before. Some might call this snobbery, but I like to call it class. These women wear nothing but high heels. Not the pumps we have back home but killer heels! If they were to fall over they would break something. Because of this obsession with height I feel very short. I never have thought of myself as short before but, sheesh, being here I might as well be a dwarf. I have never been in the know about all the latest trends; I am the girl who loves my hoodies, but here, no way José! Back at home I felt totally at ease hitting up the grocery store with my lazy pants and a baseball hat. I feel it would be morally wrong of me to do that here. The local supermarket is a fashion show. Even the veggies look nice. I am trying to change my ways (as I sit
here in a hoodie and the comfiest pair of sweatpants I own).
Coming to London has also changed my views on my own stereotypes. People here are generally very nice, don’t let the accent fool you, they do care. Most of the Londoners I have met have welcomed me with open arms and many questions. Don’t get me wrong, London. like many other places. has its downfalls, but its good points are far greater. So London has taught me a lot so far: Be quiet, defy stereotypes, and wear high heels even if it kills you. Oh, and one more thing, a scarf goes with any outfit, and that is one change I am taking home with me!
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