London

Last weekend, i stepped off the Virgin direct line from Liverpool Lime Street to London, the capital of the largest empire the world has ever known. In many ways, London today seems to wear this title very well, very effortlessly, although the United Kingdom isn’t really that united (an IRA bomb went off outside BBC headquarters when i was there) nor is it really a kingdom (not much of a queen-dom either). On the other hand, London can seem like less of a capital of this great nation than a nation in its own right.

I tried to pack my short time there with as many experiences as possible. I saw my first musical last Friday night–Les Miserables, which was pretty phenomenal. The actors used a rotating stage, a brilliant idea as it blended together the illusion of distance, various special effects, and scene changes seamlessly. Watching the characters running in circles also made me think of how the French Revolutionary probably felt–getting dizzy but not really getting anywhere else.

I also saw the typical tourist sites of Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament (of which Big Ben is part of), St. Paul’s Cathedral (from the dome of this masterpiece you can see the whole city, believe it or not), Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, Leicester Square, Soho, Chinatown, parts of the West End, etc. Since i’ve never been to such a city of massive importance and universal recognition (well, besides Sioux City, Iowa), these sites seemed almost surreal…like I was living in a post card.

I also realized that although I’ve been speaking English all my life (or a language similar to it), I still don’t know how to pronounce many place names from the motherland of my mother tongue. For example, Leicester Square is pronounced “lester” and Gloucester is “gloster.” Warwick is “warrick” and Norwich is “norridge.” Grosvenor is obviously “grove-ner.” Edinburgh doesn’t sound similar to Pittsburgh–no, it’s closer to Edinbruh. If you can understand the look of fear I got the other day when I saw Vegetable Au Poivre on the menu and tried to pronounce it, that’s one thing. But take me out of the lunchroom and into the country where everyone assumes to speak English and I can’t understand anything that’s going on…well, it’s a disorienting feeling.

There are plenty of times where I don’t have a clue about what’s going on around me, and that’s just at home. But here in England–where the language and culture are so much different and where people drive on the wrong side of the road–I can feel absolutely lost. We went out to a club in Piccadilly Circus on Saturday. I’ve been here long enough to know that it’s expected to dress up when you go out–an alien visitor might think the British go to church three to seven nights a week, dressed in their Sunday best–so I tried my best to blend in and look somewhat presentable.

I knew that at this particular club, there was no admission fee since it was before 10 p.m. But for some reason there were three bouncers standing outside stopping people. I wasn’t sure if it was for security purposes or because British people love standing in lines. When we finally got to the front, my friends were waved in but one bouncer took interest in me. He looked me up and down like I was on display. After a few seconds, he said I was refused admission. Why? “Too casual.” He turned away before I could say anything.

Now I know it’s not my place to comment on other cultures, be it British or the generic, world-wide club culture, but does it really make sense to do this? Of course, to a certain extent–it makes economic sense to attract a certain upscale, classy clientele. Maybe I was upset because I made an actual effort to look nice and someone told me that I didn’t. Maybe it’s the Thoreau I read on the train on the way down ("

f my jacket and trousers, my hat and shoes, are fit to worship God in, they will do; will they not?"). Maybe it’s the fact that we call ourselves an advanced society but pay people good money to stand outside and openly judge and discriminate–and call it acceptable practice.

But we went to another club next door where I had lots of fun. And they had San Miguel cerveza española too.

The highlights of London for me were the National Gallery, the British Museum, and Speakers Corner. I can’t say I saw the entire National Gallery since it could easily consume the better part of three days. From what I did see, I can only say that I hope to go back (Raphael to Da Vinci to Rembrandt to Velázquez to Cézanne etc., etc., etc.). The British Museum is equally as massive, equally as free. I saw some of the Egyptian rooms: mummies, sarcophagi, 30 ft. statues erected by Ramses II…some of the North/South Amerindian artifacts…a little of the sub-Saharan African treasures. Apparently the Rosetta Stone is in there (among other things, of course), but I’d get lost trying to find it. My visit to those three exhibits were rushed and found myself again asking for three days to sufficiently explore what it had to offer. You can see how massive London is when you can spend nearly a week in just two of its buildings.

Sundays are a good day to be in London, especially in Hyde Park. The park is full of countless recreational soccer games inspired by Saturday’s professional matches and visitors out for a quiet stroll. One particular corner in Hyde Park is known throughout the world as Speakers Corner, a testament to free speech, where people have packed the sidewalk with soapboxes, crates, and stepladders for over 150 years. Every Sunday you can come and listen to a myriad of ideas or offer something to say yourself. From my experience, I realized that I don’t have a lot of relevant things to say, so I decided to listen.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting–the place has been host to such minds as Karl Marx, V.I. Lenin, and George Orwell–but things always have a way of turning out to be different from what you’d ever imagine. I walked into an uproar. People on stepladders were shouting on all sides of me. “Repent or Die!”, “Israel is committing the new holocaust!”, “Mohammed is God’s Prophet!”. People in the crowds were shouting back at the speakers, shouting at each other. Impromptu circles were formed where the audience were discussing their philosophical differences with each other at heightened decibels. In many ways, it was awful. But in many ways it was so good.

It such a volatile atmosphere, the police presence was comforting–it was clear evidence that these arguments can easily grow out of control and fists can be thrown at any moment. One man was doing his thesis on Islam and discussed what he saw as fundamental flaws in Christianity. He was heckled disrespectfully by devout-looking men I assumed to be Christian. “Jesus saves! He is the only way!” Another man, two speakers down, spoke about what he saw as contradictions in Mohammed’s word and the fundamental flaws in Islam. He was heckled by what I perceived to be Muslims: “Islam is here to stay. Love it or leave it!” “God cannot be man!” No one seemed that eager to listen. Everyone seemed bent on solving these problems that instant, things that have plagued humanity for at least 2000 years.

Other interesting speakers included messages about the evils of capitalism, the necessity of atheism, the Palestinian plight, the New Jerusalem in Nigeria, and tales of government conspiracy. It was fascinating for me that in such a small place in a corner of a London park, people take time out of their days to come and listen to the questions and answers plaguing our world today. Although I would argue that some people get more out of the experience than others (“You’re WRONG!!” “No, YOU’RE wrong!” “You’re wrong!” “What was it we were talking about again?”), I think making some semblance of minimal effort to listen to what someone else has to say changes you into a more educated person, even if ever so slightly. Of course, some speakers have misguided intentions to bring others to commit negative, destructive actions…but learning to discern from these and them is an important lesson in itself.

You can read more about this fascinating place here:

http://www.speakerscorner.net/

I think the thing I liked about London the most is the fact that I must visit it again.

…But tonight, it’s off to Amsterdam.

Ryan