Sirens, Horns & People

Sirens...horns...people...welcome to London. I'm in an internet cafe (?) room (?)...I'm not really sure what it is. All I know is that my laptop is refusing to read my European modem, and internet prices vary from 10p a minute, to 50p for 30 minutes - you do the math! So...since I've been in London I have found myself overwhelmed by my reintroduction to mass numbers of people everywhere! It has only been 4 years since I was last here, but I swear, London's population has skyrocketed. My arms are baring the bruises of having been slammed by bags and bodies (don't worry, they are living bodies!). Us Canadians love our 10 feet of personal space - you just can't get that here! If I were to move here I wonder how long it would take me to become a dispondant Londoner? Presently I try to sidestep collisions - yet the average Londoner does not. They are more than willing to run straight into you and keep on going...of course, as a Canadian I am hardwired to apologize profusely, regardless of whether or not the collision was my fault. I'm not a fan :)

I am also shocked by the noise. It's no secret that I am a country girl - could I trade in the peace and quiet of the country for metropolitan living? Even in New Orleans, I was not exposed to this amount of noise. Through the night there are horns and sirens - which apparently are still a novelty here? The other night I went for a drink with an Aussie who had just completed a tour of Africa - both of us laughed and mused at the noise factor, as we sat in mutual shock and awe - Sub Sahara Africa does not offer this experience! For a couple of days, I can deal with it - but after a couple of months I could see having a catacylismic breakdown.

All complaints about London aside, there are things that I do like about this city. It is a hotbed of entertainment. Whether it be a musical or a concert, or just watching random people do stupid things, it is entertaining here (I can't judge....I'm sure if someone had a subscription into my recent life, they would have been highly entertained). I could sit and people watch by the hour. And the food...what can I say about the food? Cheap ethnic food, that is actually tasty. I know that the Brits have a horrible reputation when it comes to culinary integrity BUT luckily, the infiltration of other cultures has given London a unique selection. I have been enjoying Moroccan and Lebanese food, and may stake out a Chinese food restaurant today. For the record, North American Chinese food is a bastardized rendition of the authentic cuisine. Oh..and shopping..how can I forget shopping? Granted an afternoon of shopping can set you back...there is a great selection of retailers here. Yesterday I finally got a chance to go to the Portobello Rd/Notting Hill Market - TONS of stuff to buy...TONS of people...could be a fun experience for the hardcore shopper (I'm not that hardcore). I am a personal fan of Harrods, but not on a weekend...

Hold on a sec...I need to discuss Harrods. I am on a mission right now - apparently looking for some chocolate that we can't get back in North America. I decided to take a second trip to Harrods. While there, I opted to have a guilty little ice cream splurge at Morellis - recent weeks have been leading to the ice cream crash. So...Morelli's...awesome ice cream that costs a small fortune. A sundae ranges from approximately $15-30! I bought the cheapest item on the menu, but still skipped dinner to make up for the financial and caloric drain. Oh ya. I didn't find the chocolate...but at least I had the ice cream :)

So aside from this little foray into London, what is my purpose for being here? I don't know. I am contemplating whether or not I could actually live in this city...I have been offered work in Clapham Junction in SW London. Could I do it? I don't know. I am slowly starting to realize that as you get older there is a need for stability. I don't know if I could find stability here. Luckily the job comes with quite a bit more money than the one in Banbury did. Maybe financial stability could replace my need for physical and emotional stability. Hmmm...there's a start...

I made so many bad decisions in going to Banbury, and there were so many things that I did not know or realize. Fortunately I needed to make those bad decisions - they are helping me find my place in the future.

London Calling

So the path home is a long and bumpy road through London. Most people would be excited to be sitting in one the "greatest" cities on earth. Not me. After sleepy Banbury, and backwoods TBay, I am overwhelmed by the honking horns, traffic, construction and people. Sooo...can I move here? I don't know. What is the solution - I don't know. If I dislike small town living in Banbury, and I dislike large cities, it would appear that my only solution is to stay in Tbay. *Explitive*.
Alright, so this is going to be a very brief entry - I am staying in a hostel and having a laptop in hostel is just asking for trouble. I used to hostel - when I was in my early 20s I loved it. Meeting new people, pub crawls, etc. There was something liberating about the potential for drunken escapades with strangers, getting bed bugs, and sharing bunk beds. I'm not 19 anymore. Seeing the condom machines on the wall down the hall from me, makes me roll my eyes - random sexual experiences in a hostel...gawd...how tacky. Apparently I have entered that stage in my life that I am now an adult - I like stability, quiet nights, and sleep - I have had my share of nights of alcohol-induced vomitting (and to be frank, its not the most pleasant experience). That being said, as an adult I also realize that staying in a hotel is not a price option that I can afford. Hostel it is. But along with reevaluating my career & living options, I am now reevaluting my travel desires. Could I handle the congestion of India? The shock of Sub-Sahara Africa? etc. I'm not so sure anymore. Leanne used to be a traveler. What happend?

Out of the Frying Pan...where do I get rid of a frying pan?

Back to my favourite coffee shop...I have spent far too much time here in the past couple of weeks - it has become more than a sanctuary - it is my caffinated Happy Place. Outside, I can hear an absolutely horrible singer drowning out the moderately ok music in here. Seriously...this guy could make glass break - a dog is actually howling along to the music (?). Sweet Home Alabama is not so sweet when sung by this poor sap - Lynard Skynrd would be sickened. Maybe I should join him, and at least try to make a couple of pounds before I leave. I could impress the locals with my Canadian accent and limited acoustic abilities. Or I could beat a garbage can to provide background noise. Noise is about the only description that suits the torture that is produced by the sound of this guy's singing. And such is life in Banbury.

Hang on...before I continue...regarding my "Canadian accent" (which I still have, because luckily, I haven't been here long enough to loose it :-P ) . In the time that I have been here I have been asked where I am from. I "sound different"... Sometimes the locals like to guess where I am from. Obviously the usual guess is: "Are you American?". "No. I'm Canadian." "Oh sorry!" (why they apologize says alot about the Canadian-American relationship on a global scale). I have had several other interesting guesses though...."Are you from Poland?" "HUH?" That has happend at least twice - and no, my surname has not been a factor. "Are you from Northern Ireland?" "Sure..". I knew I sounded exotic, but not as exotic as I apparently sound. Ok..that's all I have to say on that topic.

This morning I began the process of decluttering (AKA "getting rid of the stuff I aquired"). At least I had enough foresight to not aquire a lot - I realized when the anxiety started that I could be on a fast track towards departure. While I have complained about the Americanization of the UK, and the continual infiltration of big box stores combined with global uniformity, I was pleased to find a Cash Converters right down the block from my flat. Ok...so I didn't make a lot of money there, but at least I made something. I was even able to sell some speakers that I brought with me from Canada. Oh and I should mention - I have talked to countless Brits who have also complained about the invasion of Britian by American globalization.

Ok...brief divergance (what else is new?)....I don't know why I always end up listening to local disparities...but I do. It doesn't matter which country I am in, which culture, religion, etc - I end up hearing the bad side of the story - the tales of financial ruin, economic disturbances and stories of culture clashes, interactions and observations. Even in Turkey, I ended up with the same situation. Maybe I look attentive and intelligent (HAHAHA)...or maybe it's that I listen - and I only listen because I don't have the information to actually interject my comments (which is why I've started blogging - I can rant here, without getting cut off or challenged!). Anyway, my conversations with the locals have been no different - granted they have been interesting and informative. For the record, the Brits are their own worst enemy when it comes to promoting their country to tourists. The continual emphasis: "the country is going to hell."...the usual solution proposed: "it can't keep going like this...it has to stop...or there will be no Britons left in Britian." ..."If you are smart, you will get out now and head to Cyprus."(Turkish or Greek?!?!)..."I'm moving to Spain where it is affordable."..."The prices keep going up - who can afford to live?"..."They won't raise the income tax, but they are more than willing to raise the price of everything else."...and so on....Even my neighbour from Germany was complaining about the costs here - Great! I consider Germany expensive - so what happens when a German considers the UK expensive?? Now picture Leanne, verging an emotional crisis, being told that life here is too expensive, even for the people who grew up here.

Of course when I moved here, I was perplexed about tipping. In Canada, tipping rates have hit a whopping 20% (and trust me, if I were in a service profession, I would accept that 20% without complaint), and we now tip for everything! I will admit - I still don't tip at certain places - I figure, 10 years ago when I was flipping burgers and serving milkshakes, I wasn't getting tipped...ya, you can insert your own explitive here to describe my attitude. But come on! It adds up! In another 5 years you can guess that we will be up to 25%. You can likely thank the overtippers for raising our tipping percentage - you know who I'm talking about: the people who don't want to appear cheap in front of their friends, so they tip 40% of the bill - its the sport of One-up-manship. I have a friend like this - going out with him is a burden (and I do mean that in the nicest way). When I inquired about tipping in Britian, I received very mixed responses. Tipping here is still at 10% (wow...fruit and tipping are cheaper here, who'd of thunk?!?!?), and from what I have figured out - you only tip at eateries (not takeout). When I have attempted to tip at the pub, coffee shop, etc, I am met with surprise. So of course, I have asked the locals about tipping - the response (on all occassions): "Nobody tips in Britian anymore....nobody can afford to. If you have to tip, you tip your basic 10%. But its too expensive here now, and most people can't". Hmmm....

Alright..I have no idea where I was going with this whole entry. Possibly I am procrastinating going back to my flat and confronting the mess that still lies before me. Or else I am attempting to forgo reality for an hour or two, and not think about the impending darkness that I have to face. I keep wondering how bad of a decision I am making. And I know deep down, I am making a horrible decision. I was so blinded by potential when I accepted the UK - as a traveller all I could think about was Morocco, Portugal, Malta, etc, etc - ya, I came to the UK to get out of the UK as frequantly as possible. I saw my salary and doubled it to accomodate the Canadian dollar - but I forgot that you don't live on the Canadian dollar in Britian - the British pound is firmly established as the currency of choice (and unfortunately I can't change that!). So I need to go back and regroup, and reaquaint myself with the reality that I hate working in customer service...and then reaquaint myself with the necessity to finally choose a career - or at least a direction. The hardest part about going home is knowing I don't actually belong there.

Right now there aren't alot of good options - I just need to make money on a continent that isn't bleeding me through the....***. I will go to London tomorrow...and I will go to a meeting on Friday regarding my future employability here. Tuesday, I will fly back to Canada and hyperventilate for a few weeks. These are certainties. Hopefully, I will return in the fall with a better idea of what to expect, what to leave at home, how to live, and what I would do differently (and already, I have a list a mile long!) Maybe I will be more confident in my decisions, and not so afraid of the career choices that I have made. I love anthropology and archaeology- but I don't think I can make a career out of either. 5 years ago I gave up the opportunity to pursue my Masters in Medical Anthropology, studying AIDS in the Third World... because again...I second guessed myself. Hind sight is 20/20. I should have accepted that opportunity. I was able to move to New Orleans at 19, and adapt to it. When I moved back to TBay I was miserable, and desperately wanted to go back to NOLA - and I did. Ever since, I have been unable to cope with drastic change. I need to figure out why. OR...maybe I should just move back to New Orleans....noooo...wait...post apocalyptic New Orleans might not be a good idea....but...I know what I'm doing there, and where I'm going, and the cost of living isn't that bad, and the Canadian dollar versus the American dollar isn't so bad anymore...and...maybe I should. I could easily find a job there because nobody wants to go there now- I'm sure that Squatters Rights have been reestablished. Maybe I need to retrace my steps to be able to move forward. Hmmm...out of the frying pan....

Facing the Reality

Where to start, where to start. Firstly, it is incedibily easy to move to the UK. It is a bit more difficult to leave the UK. In the past 36 hours I have ridden the emotional rollercoster of reality. All of those things that I had been so good about ignoring and remaining emotionally detached from in Canada, have come to a head here. Already I am trying to figure out where I went wrong. Was it in signing a contract? Coming to Banbury (of all places)? Going in to teaching? Deciding to worry about my health in the months leading up to England? Being excessively paranoid about costs? Never having lived alone? Yes. No. Some of it. All of it.
I guess the first challenge was in living here alone - severly alone. Granted I did live in New Orleans, but even when I lived "alone" my then-current love (I use that term loosely) interest spent most of his time in my dorm room. Should I have made the effort to live "alone" in Thunder Bay, before moving here? Probably. Would it have mattered? Not likely.
I have already made a point of discussing my inability to commit to anything (jobs, contracts, partners, etc). So maybe signing a contract led to my derailment. No. Not likely. That nagging thought that kept reaffirming itself in my mind was the clincher - I am in the wrong profession. Did I have to do this to remember that? Yes. I am not necessarily in the wrong profession. I enjoy working with individual students who are struggling to achieve results. I like the challenge of working with the student who just doesn't give a damn. Maybe it's because I see myself in that. I wasn't a natural in school - I had good marks (most of the time), but I worked my butt off to achieve those marks. I worked incredibly hard my first year at university to fail my classes. Which I did, until half term when I realized that I was being daft - and then had to boost failing marks to passing grades.
So then what? The health aspect. Months ago I decided that the "padding" (yes, that's the politically correct term) that I attained on my figure during university had to come off. It has been one of the most unenjoyable experiences of my life. Not secure in my results yet, I have spent so much time worrying about regaining the "padding" that I worked so hard to loose, that I have hardly been enjoying myself. Ultimately I wasn't secure enough in weight to be here. I think there is irony in coming to a country that works on the pound :-p.
Now the costs. I can admit the cost of coming here was a small fortune. The cost of living here is a full fortune. The idea of spending anymore time here, watching the bills ring up - I can't even fathom it. When I look at the big picture, it is truly cheaper to run home now, than to continue on.
I'm sure in the coming weeks I will have a sundry of observations regarding my decisions. There will be regret - both for having gone and having left. I know that. But...at the end of the day...I still have a visa that is good until 2010. I still have credentials (of some sort). I am still Leanne and might find my silver lining - or at least I will be able laugh about it sometime in the future. For instance...the woman who is sitting next to me in the coffee shop is talking about her ovaries. My concentration is being derailed because I keep catching "key words". I can laugh about this. Oh..and I can laugh at the irony - it has been miserable in Banbury since I arrived - today is hot and sunny :) Wonderful.
So here I am, more directionless than when I arrived. Having just agreed to a job meeting on Friday in London.....waiiiiiiiittttttttt....what was that? Did I just say that??!?! Meet Leanne...indecisive and clinging to her last hope... Yes. I have agreed to a job meeting in London on Friday afternoon. Ok Ok..I'm not saying I will let anything happen......yet.....

Not Meant to Be

Periodically you find yourself wondering how you ended up where you are. I have made a lot of bad decisions...my career - I hate it....my hometown - I'm not fond of it....my present town - I resent it. In moving to England, I thought I could perform that escapist act -but I was wrong. As it turns out I moved 6000 miles to find out that I should have just stayed where I was. I also moved 6000 miles to remember that I dislike my profession (overwhelmingly). I am not a bad teacher - I can teach - I just dislike the life that goes along with teaching. I had forgotten that realization- or maybe I chose to ignore it. There are so many terrible teachers, who openly despise their profession, who think that by staying in the classroom they are doing some sort of favour for the students. But they are wrong. After my experience working in a school, I realize that it is very easy to tell the teachers who enjoy teaching, versus those who do not. I do not want to be one of those teachers - I would not being doing the profession any justice. So...with this reality, I have left my job here in Banbury, with the full intentions of returning home. I can't stand up in front of a room full of impressional young people, and lie to myself and to them. I can teach, but I am not a teacher. I can accept that now.
It hasn't just been the realization that I dislike my career. The financial aspects of living in England are far more than I can ever hope to cope with. Even leaving now, it is still cheaper for me to get out, than to stay and develop more debt. I have realized that I dislike the heart palpitations I feel every time I think about paying for something....I don't run the heat because I am afraid of my utility bills. I try not to run the water, because again, the bills are just too horrible to think about. I am afraid to do anything in my flat, for fear of doing anything that would damage the illogically placed cream carpeting that runs throughout the apartment. I am still perplexed as to why a landlord would place cream carpeting in a bathroom. Needless to say, the financial aspects of England are just too much for me to cope with individually.
There is only so much time I can spend in the sanctuary of my local pub and coffee shop - I need to face the realization that I am miserable here. Granted, it will be worse when I go home - I have to deal with the financial aspects of this decision. But it is slightly more copable knowing that, at home, I will at least understand what I am doing. I won't have to worry about price conversions of the British pound versus the Canadian dollar. Even getting up in the morning for a job I hate, will seem slightly more doable.
So what now? I don't know. I know that I need to go home and face the reality that I was attempting to escape from. Maybe that's the point - maybe I wasn't emotionally detached from this decision - it was my life at home that I was trying to be emotionally detached from. Now, I need to figure out what I want to do for a career. After 9 years in university, I don't want to think or commit...I just want to work and come home at the end of the day and be done with it. So there's a start. I know I want simplicity.