America is a lovely place, don't get me wrong. I am very grateful to have been born in this country, because I know that as an American, I am more well-off than millions of other people; just by being a citizen of the United States, I receive rights and privileges that many will never experience. I feel safe in my home; I have food, shelter, and clothing; I have the ability to pursue an education; I can help decide the laws and leaders of my country; I have the freedom to practice my religion as I please, speak out when I choose, travel almost anywhere that I want. I know that my life is easy, and that I am extremely lucky to have been born in the circumstances that I was.
Still, there's nothing quite like leaving. Over Spring Break last year (in the beginning of April) I had the tremendous opportunity to visit the United Kingdom and the Irish Republic for eleven days. It was a childhood dream come true for me, to visit the countries of my ancestry. I remember watching British daytime television and practicing my accent as a young kid, then discovering the world of Harry Potter, which only fueled my passion further. In third grade, a boy from England moved into my town, and I instantly fell in love as he showed our class his cricket bat and gave us gifts. I remember the sparkly teal pencil that he gave me; I remember how long teal stayed my favorite color even after he had moved away.
My passion for England was painful at times. I knew how so many of the English thought of Americans as stupid, arrogant, ignorant people, and my dream of becoming one of them quickly faded in cursing the day that I had been born in Washington, US instead of Anytown, England. I obsessed and studied and hoped and dreamed that one day, I would be able to cross the Atlantic Ocean and step foot on that island.
I was ecstatic when the day came, as you can expect. I was no longer just another American with blinders on to the rest of the world. I was a visitor in a strange country, surrounded by funny accents and different culture and loving every minute of it. I loved our coach, our guide for the trip, the grey London skies. My heart was pattering like the English raindrops against my window. The awful, uncomfortable plane ride faded into the back of my mind as I craned my head to look out at London.
Let me educate you really quickly. The UK, or United Kingdom, consists of England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland. The Irish Republic is not part of the UK, and any Irishman would probably be highly offended if you called them British. The relations between Ireland and the UK haven't always been the best, unfortunately.
The UK's currency consists of pound notes (like our dollars), and pence as their coin. You can use pounds and pence throughout the UK, but as soon as you take a ferry over to Ireland, you had better make sure you've changed your cash to Euros. British refers to citizens of Britain, which is England, Scotland, and Wales. If you'd like to do your research, you'll see that all three of those countries are on the same island, the British Isle. Northern Ireland and Britain are the United Kingdom, while the rest of Ireland, as I've said, is not associated to the UK.
Sorry, didn't mean to turn this into a school lesson. Anyway, referring to a "British" accent when you mean an English accent is a sure sign that you are one of those Americans that the British don't think very fondly of. I made sure to learn all of these lessons before I flew across the pond, because I was so afraid of being the least bit offensive that for our first day in London, I hardly opened my mouth at all.
Until you've been out of the country, there's no comparison to how vast the world becomes, and how minuscule you as an individual, feel. You're no longer one of the millions of other Americans in your own country; you are the guest, and such, should be respectful of the country that you find yourself in. You have become a diplomat for the United States, a representative of the rest of your country. Keep that in mind, and also keep in mind that the rules of society probably won't be the sames as the rules at home, and you need to respect that.
I won't take you step by step through my travels, although I wish I could. For the first three days, starting as soon as we stepped off of our Virgin Airlines flight, we were in London. We ran about the city nonstop, from seven in the morning until late at night. We had no time to stop as we scurried from spot to spot, from The Tower of London to St. Paul's Cathedral to Westminster Abbey and Buckingham Palace. It was incredible, amazing, and even though we were walking over 10 miles a day (it felt more like 100), I hardly noticed.
Eros at Picadilly Circus
It was more than fun, more than educational, although Ian, our tour director, made sure we were very well-educated about the things that we saw. It was liberating. Not only was I away from my parents for the first time, really, but I was in a foreign country, wandering around a gigantic city and, at times, completely at my own leisure. Even when my friend and I got separated from our group and navigated back to them again, riding the Tube all by ourselves and feeling extremely grown up about it, I was blissfully happy.
Watching The Passion at Trafalgar Square
Reenactment of The Passion at Trafalgar
Covent Garden
Street Entertainer
Big Ben
Westminster Abbey
Waiting In Line at Westminster
Parliament
Bagpipes on the Bridge
The Heart of London
St. Paul's
Sneak-shot Inside of St. Paul's (the priests told me not to ;] )
Tower Bridge
From London we took an overnight train to Scotland. Scotland was cold and rainy and dreary, but something about the Scottish mountains and our Scottish tour guide made the otherwise miserable conditions bearable.
Holyrood Palace
Outside Holyrood Palace (our Scottish guide)
Scotland from the coach
We stayed in Edinburgh (pronounced Ed-in-burra, not Ed-in-burg) in an extremely cool hostel. We shopped in vintage clothing stores, were accosted by French students trying to complete some sort of school assignment, and I ate pain au chocolat (chocolate chip croissant) that I bought in a tiny little bakery. At night, we went to a pub and listened to local Scottish bands, inside a cave-like stone alcove that was plastered in band flyers and posters. Then we drove in our coach to Wales, wandering through the remains of Beaumaris Castle before we caught the ferry over to Ireland.
Welsh Flag over Beaumaris
Beaumaris Castle
Admiring the view
Beaumaris
The ferry ride to Ireland was around 4 hours long, but so beautiful and sunny out on deck that time passed in the blink of an eye. Ireland was amazing; we went from Dublin to our last stop in Killarney, stopping on the Ring of Kerry to climb a mountain, which is no small feat in a dress, and, just like that, our trip was over. We flew back to London, waited in Heathrow airport for our 6 hour layover, then there was nothing but ocean beneath us as we returned home. I just tried to sleep and control the aching in my chest.
Goodbye, Wales
The Ferry
Irish Gravestones
Chester the Wandering Irish Dog
Ross Castle
The Swans of Ross Castle
Irish Mountains
Rest stop
The Incredamazing Sheepdogs
The Climb
Victory at the top
We Climbed a Mountain. I was in a dress.
I don't even remember where this was.
I know that this has gone on pretty long and you're probably starting to wonder if this blog post will ever end. It will, I promise.
Travel is an incredible gift that I feel every person needs to take advantage of. Never forget that there is a world outside of the United States, full of beauty and history and people just like you. Never forget that you are so lucky to have been born when and where you were, to not have to worry where your next meal is coming from or if you'll be safe when you fall asleep. Travel opens your eyes not only to the diverse beauty to be found on this planet, but the diverse sufferings and problems in countries throughout the world. It opened my mind to the possibility of helping those less fortunate than myself, my brothers and sisters in humanity who are oppressed, tortured, deprived, and fearful. It reminds me that I have an opportunity and, dare I say it, an obligation to improve the global community, and only strengthened my resolve to live an aware and giving life, doing what I can to serve others at home and abroad.
I may be just another poor American university student now, with a tiny sphere of influence in my life. I may never become an important politician or an outspoken activist or a benefactor to international charities and charitable organizations. I might not even become a writer, but I do know that whatever my place in life will be, I will constantly strive to live as a member of a larger, global community, recognizing those who need aid and trying to give it to them. What will you do?
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