I've heard that England is very thorough and strict and counts heavily on the obedience of the rules, and I found out how very true that is. As I was passing through border control where they check your passport, I was stopped for ten minutes and immediately reamed with a million questions that felt like bullets puncturing every inch of my flesh. Ok, that's a bit dramatic, but it seriously scared the crap out of me because I thought they were going to keep me captive if I didn't say the right things. "What are you doing here? What are your future travel plans? Where are you going and for how long? Have you booked your tickets for that yet? How much cash do you have on you/have access to?" And so on and so on, more questions that I wasn't prepared for. And unfortunately, I lied to them. I'm not proud of this fact, but my fear kept me from thinking clearly. In any case, I'd rather not have to go through that again anytime soon!
Getting to the hostel I stayed in was no problem at all. Everyone was extremely helpful whenever I wasn't sure of where I was supposed to go, which made it all run so smoothly with no nerves getting in the way! Once safely to my destination, I explored the colorful, entertaining, welcoming hostel that I would be staying in for the next three nights. I laughed at the countless stupid jokes written all over the walls...but that shouldn't come as much of a surprise :) Anyway, I was immediately welcomed by someone living in the hostel, giving me recommendations on what I should do with my time in London. This happened throughout my stay, and it made me realize how much I really do love people. In my experience, people have a natural inclination to help in whatever way they can for a complete stranger, whether it's giving directions, giving a few pence/centesimi when I'm short, showing me how to do something that's foreign to me, or helping me better my language skills. People continue to surprise me, and I love it.
Ever since I started learning another language and traveling, I've come to find that most Americans are arrogant not only in their attitude towards other cultures but also towards language. Since most everyone in the world today can speak english, it seems like very few in comparison attempt to learn a second or third language, or even just the most useful phrases when traveling outside of their own borders. But staying in this hostel made me realize something very important about the resentment I feel towards the english language: it really does bring people together. While I myself value culture and language very highly and try my best to learn at least the bare minimum, I can understand now that sometimes it's not practical, especially for those who don't value such things as highly. For languages like Russian and Slovenian (among others) that are extremely difficult languages to both understand and pronounce for a foreigner, it's a relief to know that they can probably speak some English. In meeting people from all around the world (coming from places I've not yet had the time or drive to learn some of the language) I learned to appreciate the language I was raised with.
When thinking about this topic on a bigger scale, it seems to me as though the whole world is a hostel; some people searching for connection and acceptance, some people wanting to test the waters of a new environment (even if that means only talking to someone of a different country), and some people that would rather stay in their rooms and be on the computer all day, never making an effort to make such connections. If this is all made possible through a universal language, then I am happy for it and glad that such a thing exists. Resentment isn't a fun thing to feel anyway, so I'm very grateful to have experienced life in a hostel.
As far as seeing London goes, I saw many of the typical tourist sites, such as the London Eye, London Tower Bridge, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park and Wellington Arch. While they were all more magnificent than pictures can ever give them credit for, my most favorite thing seen in London was a large group of poems--on paper of course-- strung on sturdy wire. I know that to most this would seem quite insignificant compared to everything else, but the content written on these pages is what struck me the hardest. While most of these poems written by young people living in refugee camps around London were beautifully done, there was one in particular (pictured below) that blew me away.
I loved walking through the organized and beautiful streets of London and taking their most efficient mode of public transportation that I've ever seen. I loved taking pictures while absorbing all of the grandeur in my mind whenever I want access to it in the future. I loved strolling through gorgeous parks while reading about the history of why they exist and taking a few moments here and there to write in my travel journal. But most of all, I loved seeing the world through a hostel's eyes and experiencing the melting pot of cultures that they embrace on a daily basis. I'm constantly reminded of how much good there is in the world, even when there are so many things surrounding us that seem impossibly bleak. But then I guess there's beauty in that, too.
