|
September 8, 2004—Tim Rhomberg
London. Here, finally, after waiting impatiently through four months of planning and reading and shopping and packing and answering the same questions over and over again:
"Yes, I will be taking classes."
"No, I don't really know the area I'll be living in."
"Yes, I am excited."
This was the question that really bothered me - "Are you excited?"
Why would someone ask this—and why the hell was it that nearly every single person I discussed this trip with did? Were they thinking that it could possibly be a toss-up?
"Yeah, I'm living in a foreign country for three and a half months where I won't be bombarded with the constant reminder of an election that's out of our control and have four day weekends where I'll be able to see the history of the world - but you know < shrug > - it's not all that exciting..."
This repetition made me wonder if people really did care about this trip. By asking the same obvious question, it seemed as though these inquisitors merely wanted to affirm the ideas that they had about foreign travelling. Yes it's exciting - but it's over there - like it was okay for me to study abroad, but why would you ever want to leave the States?
This attitude is what really got me excited about travelling. It fuelled my motivation and made it valid. In fact, I think it is why the 'culture shock' I was expecting, really hasn't happened yet. I only feel that rush of excitement when I walk down the street or ride the tube.
What I'm afraid of is that the real culture shock will come when December rolls around and we make the voyage back to the land of artificial curiosity: "Did you see anything interesting?"
And immediately I will want to run screaming back through those long airport terminals and launch myself onto the nearest 747 headed for Heathrow.
|
