24 July, 2008 | Leave a Comment
I’ve not been in a good mood lately, hence the lack of posting. I feel sorta weird, filled with conflicting, often unpleasant emotions and anxieties. I’ve been feeling this way for weeks now and I can’t shake it, so I’ll write about it, even though I don’t think I should.
In the hall of residence where I live, all the students have now left. In the summer, the place fills up with 18-year-old Americans who are on study abroad (more like ‘get drunk abroad’). A great many of the white middle-class American teenagers staying here are ill-mannered barbarians. They are, of course, teenagers. I am a thirtysomething woman and I simply do not want to be literally surrounded by them 24/7. This is causing a lot of unhappiness in me, which is probably understandable. The group staying on my floor are so loud that I’ve had to relocate to the other side of the building. Whenever I would tell them to be quiet, they would mock me. I would go back to my room and call the security guard. That was the sensible thing to do, because the only other option was screaming at them in a blind, obscenity-filled rage. I decided not to go that route.
Part of their rowdiness is because of alcohol. They would not be old enough to drink back home, but here in Great Drunken they can legally drink themselves into oblivion every night. This accounts for a lot of the problems, but not all. After all, they’re annoying while sober too. What really gets me is that they are incapable of whispering or speaking with an “indoor voice,” particularly the girls. They speak at a level mostly used by longshoremen down at the docks. Why it’s necessary for anyone to talk so loudly is a mystery to me, especially when the person they are “conversing” with is standing right next to them. The very sound of their voices irritates me to no end, the nasally flat monotone sounds, their annoying regional accents, their silly names, the endless stream of like and you know and the idiotic comments they make, thinking they sound worldly and smart in the way very young people traveling abroad think they do.
If these students were Italian or Australian, I’m sure they’d probably act just as annoying, but since they are American and so am I, they really make me cringe. Their very Americanness gets under my skin. I’ve been feeling down on America a lot over the past six months or so, mostly caused by this presidential campaign, and with these students here, those feelings have just increased. I feel really alienated from my home country right now and feel no kinship whatsoever with the Americans I am encountering. Just the opposite. I greatly resent them invading my home and my personal space and wish they’d go home.
Clearly, my rage at these teenagers is caused by something other than just the inconvenience they cause and my conflicting feelings about America. I guess I have to admit that part or my rage is because I am unhappy in this living environment and they are symbolic of what my life is at the moment. No sophisticated big-city living for me. I’m trapped in perpetual summer camp. I’ve had almost three years of British student housing (with a bit of time spent in small one-room Paris apartments). I am too old for this way of life, let’s be honest. I want to have a kitchen. Dishes. A sofa. A double bed. A dog. I want to be allowed to hang pictures on the wall (no blu-tack!!!). I want to be surrounded by adults. But I won’t have anything like this for 18 months or more, which is a depressing thought. Yes, I know I chose this life. Yes, I know I live in Central London rent-free. I know all of this and more. But knowing this intellectually doesn’t make it easier to live this way on a day-to-day basis, trust me. I live in a very small room. It’s not easy, especially not at my age.
On a more personal level, I’ve spent a great deal of time over this past academic year being nice to people and what I’ve gotten in return is more than my fair share of abusive treatment, disrespect and ridicule. [I'm not talking about the young students now, but people closer to my own age -- or at the very least, adults.] I used to be a person with a very hard shell, who was stand-offish and aloof and kept to herself. For whatever reason, I decided to try to be everyone’s friend and confidante this year. Well, those days are done. I’ve learned my lesson after encountering too many people who like to spot the vulnerabilities in others and then exploit them for their own amusement. I’ve met people who’ve enjoyed belittling me, who find such behavior to be funny, without a thought to how it makes me feel. I am an easy target for this kind of treatment for a variety of reasons — in part, because though I may seem very cynical on this blog, I don’t always deal with other people that way in real life. I allow myself to be open and honest and vulnerable, which is viewed as weakness, as a character flaw. This dynamic plays out time and again. I’ve always tended to feel a bit freakish. I know I am strange. After this past year, I’ve been made to feel not that I’m just a bit eccentric, but that I’m some sort of hideous weirdo. My self-esteem has taken a real beating.
As a result of all this, I can feel a hardness developing in me, which is unfortunate but unavoidable. Being this way is the only way I’ll survive from now on. My feelings of bitchiness and impatience with those around me is something I’m not doing a good job of controlling or hiding at the moment. I’ve developed what my friend calls the “fuck it” attitude. I’ve developed zero tolerance for people I perceive to be idiots. If I don’t think you’re worth my time, I’m no longer going to pretend otherwise. Just get away from me.
I am the type of person who needs a bit of nurturing from other people, who needs affection, thoughtfulness, kindness. These things are important to me and I value them highly. Sadly, in the three years I’ve been living abroad, I’ve met very few people who fit this description. This isn’t anything against British people, since I am around far more int’l people than locals. The very few people I’ve met who’ve treated me in a nice way have tended to be English women. I regret that my friendships with these women haven’t developed more, but they live outside of London for the most part. Too bad.
Perhaps the best way to sum up how I’m feeling, if I can, is this: When I was visiting Amsterdam, I stayed in a canal house. After 5:30 p.m., the main street door was locked, so to get to my room, I’d have to literally walk through the owners’ private living quarters. I’d walk down a long corridor, past their living room, dining room and kitchen. I couldn’t help observing them. They were a loud, boisterous family, always cooking something that smelled delicious, always laughing and talking and playing with their dog. Seeing them always made me feel sad. I wanted what they have. Not necessarily a house and a husband and kids, but the sense that I belong someplace, that if I went away, people would miss me or even care. Of course my family and friends at home feel this way about me, but they live an ocean away, scattered around a vast continent. In my daily life, that sense of belonging is entirely absent. I feel as if I float across the surface of this life I’ve created, which doesn’t really mean anything or have much value to anyone besides me. It’s an unpleasant reality, but reality nonetheless.
Anglofille said @ 3:13 am | american abroad, personal |
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Greig Says:
July 24th, 2008 at 5:24 amThey’re that bad? Well, my solution is usually to go Southie, dump them naked in Roxbury, I really do feel violence helps, and I’m telling you that as a pro-family, pro-goodie two shies, type of where’s the baaseball bat.
‘I feel really alienated from my home country right now and feel no kinship whatsoever with the Americans I am encountering. Just the opposite. I greatly resent them invading my home and my personal space and wish they’d go home.’
The proletariat has no fatherland. You would have liked a commie university, the security guards, well, lets justsay the East Germans merged two distinct talents, and security guard more or less sums it up.
‘I’ve developed zero tolerance for people I perceive to be idiots. If I don’t think you’re worth my time, I’m no longer going to pretend otherwise. Just get away from me.’
I had noticed.
“I couldn’t help observing them. They were a loud, boisterous family, always cooking something that smelled delicious, always laughing and talking and playing with their dog. Seeing them always made me feel sad. I wanted what they have. Not necessarily a house and a husband and kids, but the sense that I belong someplace, that if I went away, people would miss me or even care.”
I do wonder what Piglet has been through in his life, maybe it is just beause he is so small, or because he feels that way and he wants to be sure.
Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. “Pooh!” he whispered. “Yes, Piglet?” “Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you. …
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ang04 Says:
July 24th, 2008 at 2:58 pmTo some degree I understand. I’m in the early part of the fourth decade and since moving to NYC, for the most part, I’ve had to live with twenty something roommates. Finally, July was my month to live like a grownup, and also had family staying for the better part of the month. Well, I am ready to have my abnormal at my age life back, again.
I’ve realized that although being a “senior” student has been the most rewarding part of my life the summers are hard, unless you have the budget to fill your break with travel and activities, which this summer I didn’t.
I really feel for you. When you can’t get downtime and peace in your own home it’s bound to cause stress and unhappiness.
Maybe take up a new hobby? Do some volunteer work? to meet more kind and giving people? Sometimes, it really helps. I know, I’ve been there.
The silver lining is atleast they won’t be there forever?
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Bob Says:
July 25th, 2008 at 6:11 amI think you need to come home for a while. Try living in the south, maybe Arkansas, you will find how it is to be treated like a human.
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You’d think that central london beer prices and the exchange rate would put a curb on them….
Do you like cats OK? If so, maybe there could be a house sitting thing in your future? We have cable and broadband and a wii.
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Greig: I’m never quite sure what to make of your comments!
Ang: Thank you. I think you understand what I’m going through. It’s so true that when you don’t feel comfortable at home, your whole life seems “off” somehow. I think that’s what I’m struggling with. It’s a horrible feeling, to dread going home. Perhaps I just need to spend less time here.
Bob: That’s what my parents always say!
I think I just need to figure out how to surround myself with more nurturing people. I’ve never been the type of person who has a lot of friends. I’m not really a people person. I prefer to build friendships with a smaller group of like-minded people. I’ve just not been very good about finding those kinds of people since living abroad. Because I spend so much time with students, some of the really nice people I’ve met have moved on to other places, as students tend to do. It’s a rather transient population, which makes things more difficult.Vol: Are you offering me a housesitting gig?
I am not a huge cat person, but I can take care of them fine. I did a housesitting job once and they had two cats. One of the cats had a brawl with a neighborhood cat. I had to rush him to the animal emergency room! His ear was almost ripped off. Anyway, let me know what you’re thinking! -
Anna Says:
July 30th, 2008 at 7:42 amI feel like– at 20!– I’ve developed a certain hardness to. I think it has something to do with living in a very urban environment with lots of (surprise, surprise) annoying college students.
Yet I feel like, living in student housing, you have to expect a certain amount of that. Clearly, I don’t know the details of your situation, but student does generally imply young. And though being 18 does not make being an awful neighbor excusable, didn’t you know that was part of the deal going in to this?
