Today's post will be a merciless blurting out of feelings and impressions that I gathered in my first month here in London. I still have mixed feelings about my being here. The cultural shock is still vibrating and pulsing within me. But I'm finally shaping a rather pitiless idea of the Brits.
First of all, I'm utterly appalled by the hypocrisy oozing out of the English people. I have never seen as many charities and NGOs in my entire life as I've seen here in almost five weeks of stay. British people think so much of themselves because they struggle to save the rain forest, fight to promote environmental friendly solution to avoid climate change, or raise funds to help children in Third World countries. And then they spend fortunes in High Street shops, dinners out in fancy restaurants, bullshit and rubbish useless stuff. Just think of the amount of paper wasted in the up-and-coming free press, that very few people even have time to read these days: it's disgusting. Greenpeace supporters demonstrated their will to change the world by climbing up the House of Parliament last Sunday evening. So much raising awareness of lack of security in the area, despite the countless CCTV, rather then really striking the point of climate change. How hypocritical is that? What did they hope to achieve by climbing up the building?
This morning, I was talking on the phone with a guy I met Friday night. His background is African and Caribbean, but was born and raised in the UK. When I raised the point of NGOs he started an infuriated sermon on how hypocritical these associations are and how, in his opinion, they are just shadow offices of the government. My view is much more practical and concrete: these associations need funding in order to function. Is the effort of raising funding efficient to promote actual differences in the real world or are they just self-maintaining island achieving nothing but survival of their own financial balances? Do they make any difference in others' lives? Do they reach their goals or are they just façade bureaus to cleanse rich people's consciences?
I was also brooding over this year's selection of students attending my course, or should I say lack of selection? We are more than 100. I expected at least 20 people less. Is it true that we are talented, brilliant students, aspiring or already working journalists who deserve to be in the programme? Or was it just another way for City University to fill its weeping coffers in a time of economic crisis (for the record my Master costs Home and EU students £7,495 and overseas students £12,995. You do the maths)? Something like, "let's exploit Britain's fame for good high education and beguile young people with the glittering bait that we can improve their careers in one year's time!" 'Cause let's be honest about it. I don't feel like I deserve to be in this programme. There are students far more talented and goal-oriented than I am. Students that are already familiar with the English-speaking media world, that master the language because it's their mothertongue as well. I wonder how many chances I have with such competition, both in this country and in my own.
I must admit I am quite disappointed with the lack of intercultural approach in a course that is advertised as "specifically designed for students coming from all over the world" but and then leaves its students to figure out the cultural shock for themselves with few guidelines and a pale beacon. I suspect that income in British coffers is much more appreciated than honest confrontation with other cultures. It is questionable whether Canadians and Irish people feel a cultural clash at all and in what proportion if compared, for instance, to Italians. And I had the chance to sample the mood among my country fellows: not quite enthusiastic. And one thing is facing challenges, taking risks, which can be elating. Another thing is facing the truth: is this effort going to take me anywhere real? What's the price I'm paying? What am I missing for being here? Will there be a reward or am I doing it for sake of it?
So, there goes my bitter consideration of selecting policies this year at City University. What's the link with the hypocrisy, you may be wondering? Well, it's all intertwined I believe. And I'll point it out as good as I can through a metaphor.
I was taking a shower this afternoon. I was scratching my face. A layer of grey filth got stuck under my fingernails. I scratched my face again and another layer came off and then another and another and another... People here are like this. They have layers of dirt on their faces and live happily like this. They never show their real selves. They pretend they're good and care about other people but at the end of the day it's all about themselves. It's all about the self! I have never seen such a self-centred society as the English one. Or the one in London -I will play the local card not to be unfair and generalize a situation that may be different elsewhere. Coming from a small town where not everything revolves around money this was quite a sharp reality check. I go around the city and all I see is egotism. All around. There must be a reason why the first author of self-help books, Samuel Smiles, was British -Scottish for the sake of accuracy.
And at the same time I noticed that here, in order to be part of society, you have to be member of something. Also the University lifestyle: there are clubs, societies and groups of all types. Pay and become a member. This culture of membership is quite unclear to me. One of my tutor said that it must be related to the lack of confidence of people. When you say you're a spokesperson of something you feel backed up. I suspect it has to deal with the lack of true human contact, of honest human relationship.
I've never thought I would miss my family and my friends so much. But since I'm here I've been fighting against bubbling tears more often than not. And I was quite a loner back home. I miss my growing nephew more than anything else. I miss my family, my warm lovely supporting nest. I miss my friends and the chats in front of a spritz. I miss my quiet life. I've already had enough of the hustle-and-bustle. It's meaningless, it's self-entitled, it's self-centred, it's blind. It's LONELY. More than anything. It's lonely and exposed.
British culture is great. I've met people whose knowledge is way beyond exceptional. I've had brilliant conversations with strangers met in the streets. I've talked to smart students whose idea on what life should be about is clear and they're looking straightforward at it. I admire them. But I miss something. And they miss something too. And that's the feeling of an embrace, of consuming friendships, of hard-gained sisterhood, of parental responsibility. The cult of the family is really an Italian speciality, but it's something I won't give up for anything else in the world. Not even for a brilliant career in journalism. What is the point of that if you have nobody to share your achievements with? In a world of wired connections and virtual webs, of 24 hours news and never-sleeping cities, we are as lonely as we've never been. Small islands on an island. I yearn for the small missing detail, for the smile upon a loved one's face that make your day, for the laughter of a child who came out of your sister's womb and you saw from the very first day he entered life.
I've been questioning my presence here every single day. I'm asking myself every single day if I'm happy. I forsook my caring family and friendships to be here. I might not end up as a reporter after all. I'm most probably not meant to be a journalist. So I'm taking this year as a self-discovery voyage, as a wondrous trip in my own self, in my own conscience. I'll try to make the best of it, regardless of the Master's results. After all, it's just a degree, it's not me, it's not who I am, it's not where I come from and now I've realized it's not where I'm headed.
This idea that what you do is what you are is so rooted here that I cannot help but find it odd, addictive, dangerous. It's like the mantra "Become a news junkie!" I don't want to be a junkie, full stop. Any type of junkie. That's unhealthy. And I value health greatly. When a job summons up all a person's worth I think very poorly of the person. And I don't want to think poorly of myself.
I want to be a valuable person. Even if just for one person in this big huge messy world, I want to be indispensable for someone. I want someone to remember me for who I am. I want someone to be grateful to have met me because I have been meaningful in their life. And that doesn't come by becoming a fucking news junkie. That takes long-time effort, endurance, passion, patience. Like my element, like water...a slow-working force that shapes rocks (...and takes away the dirt on your face!)
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