London. Oh, London

January 10, 2013

London. Oh, London

“In people's eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June.”--Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway (1925)

Though it is not June nor the year 1925, I cannot imagine a more fitting quotation to sum up such a London excursion. As a group of 25 strong, we have been immersed in a culture that historically represents all of us in one way or another. From the hands of Britain our country emerged and now we return on a pilgrimage to our mother land. Perhaps on this journey we seek to get a better handle on our past as a collective people, or to seek the paths famous feet once walked upon, and see what great minds created, to feel the power, or give into our intrigue of such a great nation, or maybe just to buy a London souvenir (made in china). No matter our individual reasons, we came (although it took much longer than anticipated), we saw (perhaps a few too many museums in a span of two weeks), and we conquered (our American voices are all that can be heard from tube stations away).

To be immersed in culture, history, and the grandness of both, I set out on the adventure of a life time. London welcomed with a brief nod, not particularly in my direction, and swiftly moved ahead not caring for my person nor the red crossing man. This reception was as standard as any to be received. Forgiven too, I might add, every time words drop from such beautiful sounding mouths (Yes, it has been two weeks and it must be said I still swoon over their accents).

The ancient power the city of London still oozes between the loose bricks every once in a while; I could feel it nip at my toes in a museum corner—sometimes I could taste it in the water—but these things tend to hit you in the middle of a museum or one of Eleanor's tours in the milky part of dream when one is not quite sure where the line of reality lies and imagination takes over. So many years of history and one is left to put together the million piece jigsaw puzzle to see a picture of life—a picture of London past, present, and future. Each one of these pieces (now I am picturing one of those puzzles where each piece is a different picture of a moment in London life all adding together to make one big picture) adds to the intricate design and feel of the city. If you miss the piece of the fire of 1666 or the blitz in the 40's you lose a piece of London—both figuratively and literally.

For Mrs. Dalloway, and perhaps myself as well, it is the monotonous sounds of daily life that makes London feel like home. One is able to find this in any city, really, but in London, in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, in this moment in January, London represents life for us all—and I quite like it.

Now our group of 25 will branch out in many directions over the vast expanse of the world—some to grad school, some back for a last semester as an undergrad, some to Paris—but I would venture a guess that none will forget such a London excursion as this. It is not the china-made souvenirs that will be a reminder of such a city, but the pilgrimage we've made and the individual meaning it has taken on. To inspire, awe, mystify, or intrigue, London has left something upon our breast. An invisible tattoo of sorts that marks a worldly change. Yes, yes, America is my home—everyone here knows that—but if 'home is where the heart is' then so is London.

Cheers!

By Sydnee Burud Erickson

Sydnee is the most recent BA graduate of the College of Saint Scholastica in Duluth, Minnesota. After studying literature and philosophy for 3 ½ years, she is excited to travel Europe for 2 ½ weeks after the London Study Abroad concludes. She hopes to gain a more worldly perspective and furthermore pursue her passion for travel. Perhaps a more worldly perspective will lead her to uncover a hidden future, but of that, she cannot be sure.