Just a few
weeks ago I was beyond fortunate enough to travel to the United Kingdom where I
met up with McDonough’s own Arielle Jennings and Monica Short... Arielle, if
you’ll recall, served as Director of the Office of Civic Engagement up until
last year when she moved to England to take on a new position at Wellington
College and be with her now-husband Jim. My other weekend companion, Monica, is
just one country over from me as she spends her semester studying in the south
of France. (Psst, check out her McDonough blog site at http://mcdonoughworldwidefranceaixenprovence.blogspot.com.es/)
So what
grand occasion brought us all together? Why, a wedding of course! The 29th
marked Arielle and Jim’s wedding in the charming and picturesque town of
Crowthorne, England (about an hour outside of London.) Being reunited with two
members of the McDonough family was truly wonderful beyond words. Even if it
was only for a few days, seeing Rel and Monica reminded of the love and
connections I have back home in Marietta.
Monica, Arielle, and I at Wellington College in Crowthorne. |
So how did
I fare in foggy, London town? Quite simply, I adored it. While you may be
thinking that I loved London because they speak English, hearing English again
was actually my biggest challenge (aside from crossing the street, that left-side
of the road thing is confusing.) After living for three months in Madrid, my
ears have become accustomed to the lyrical and rapid-paced flow of Spanish.
Being
thrown into an English-speaking country again was something of an assault to my
senses. For the first few hours or so, I couldn’t even tell if I hearing English…
Thankfully though, Monica was by my side to serve as a translator. And after a
bit, my brain did in fact start to understand English again. Once that problem
was solved, the weekend was more or less smooth sailing (minus the sprinting to
catch the many, many trains.)
Some highlights from London. |
But of all
my memories from London, one of my favorite ones actually happened at the train station about ten
minutes before I was about to leave the city and return home.
King's Cross Station. |
As I was
purchasing my train ticket to take me to Stansted Airport, the clerk went to
swipe my credit card. Before she could, I hastily stated, “Oh, sorry, it doesn't
have a chip.” (European credit cards have a little section known as a chip that
allows them to be read by the machine.) She slowly looked up at me, judgment
written all across her face. She asked, “You’re from America, aren't you?” She
said I more like a statement then a question.
I was thrown for a second at her blunt tone,
but politely replied, “Yep, I am. I can’t figure out why American cards don’t
have chips, I mean everyone else does!” She paused for a brief moment, and then
chuckled, “I guess that’s The United States for you, always having to do things
differently!”
We both
laughed together and I breathed a sigh of relief that the tension had been
removed from our conversation. Now wearing a smile on her face, the woman
continued, “So the airport, huh? Where you headed, back to the States?” I
merrily responded, “No, I’m actually headed for Madrid. I’m studying there for
the semester.” She gave me a quizzical look and asked why an American would
want to study in Spain.
I then
explained to her that I think it’s important for people to see the world so
that they can experience different perspectives and grow. I said that too many
people never leave home and end up trapped in their comfort zones their whole
lives, never knowing that there’s so much more out there.
As she
stared at me in silence, I worried that I had said something wrong… But suddenly
she aggressively nodded her head and exclaimed, “Yeah, exactly! That’s exactly
right.” She then happily handed me my train ticket and wished me a good journey
home.
And as the
train whisked me out of the city, I couldn't help but smile... Some days, when I
laugh too loud on the metro, or wear my mismatched socks, or butcher a phrase
in Spanish, I am that stereotypical, annoying American that so many Europeans
envision.
But some
days, I am the exception. Some days, I have the chance to change someone’s
opinion of me and where I come from. Some days, even if it’s only one
interaction at a time, I get to change the world.