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A Local Ghost Story

The Criterion Theatrecwas originally leased to the actor manager Sir Charles Wyndham from 1875 till 1899. He was married to a very talented comedian, Mary, and there is an imposing picture of her, dressed in a white gown, in the theater’s side stalls bar. At least there was in the 1970s.

There are stories about seeing this woman in white around the theatre, people seeing her and trying to speak to her, for she looks so real, but then witnessing other people literally walk right through her, only for her to vaporize and vanish. While none are inherently violent or bad (leads me to assume she matched the Angel in the House stereotype), this woman in white still leaves many people wary, startled, and screaming, in my story.

The long time stage manager from the Criterion Theatre, circa 1977, asked his girlfriend to watch over his station while he used the restroom. As she sat waiting, she witnessed a woman in white standing across the theater. She tried to wave to her and call out to her, but the woman just stared. The stage manager’s girlfriend thought the woman was rather rude, but then, when her boyfriend was returning from the bathroom and walked right through the woman in white, she vanished. His girlfriend shrieked and collapsed to the floor.

I wanted to find a story for the Criterion Theatre because that is where we saw 2:22 A Ghost Story, and this play made me think so much about if I truly believe in ghosts, and if I do, what exactly do I believe about them at all? What have we been told to believe about them? What truly real stories can be exemplified as evidence? It makes me think once more of Monster Theory in class, but also just of everything we’ve learned and spoken about itself: magic, monsters, folklore, witchcraft, supernaturalism, spiritualism, etc. etc.

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Reflection 9

I am packing so many things to take home. Aside from my bucketload of souvenirs (Dear Jesus please make sure my suitcase doesn’t weigh over 50 lbs), I learned so much on this trip about my comfort zone, what home means to me, what chaos truly looks like, how I view myself in the grand scheme of the world, and so much more. I am packing a better understanding of my peers, the wide array of ages and wisdom has imparted some useful information to me, in the multitude of ways I could choose to utilize it.

I am leaving this trip a changed traveler for certain. There are so many things I brought that I didn’t need, and so many things I left that I wish I’d brought. There’s so many things I lugged around the city each day as well that I likely did not need. It’s interesting to see how locals move about the city versus how tourists do and what they all carry, despite the locals potentially being even more active and busy.

I think I will utilize the knowledge, the things I’ve packed to take with me, on this trip in the future, especially in future travel and in international communication/affairs I experience in the future. I am bound to do something of that sort, especially with the way our world always tends to progress towards more generally united internationalism, and that is something that exists me. Understanding more about humans of different cultures is a necessity, especially as a student and just merely a growing human being who seeks to know the world and make it a better place. While England is obviously close to America in culture, language, practices, etc., there are obvious differences and ones that have still allowed me to step back and observe the bigger picture and learn bigger lessons that don’t necessarily pertain to the UK at all - ones that relate to understanding and the human condition. Things that relate to every person on the planet, and I am grateful for that.

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The Graveyard Book Quotes

“There was Moonlight, and there were street lights, but the fog stifled everything, muted light and muffled sound and made the nightshadowy and treacherous.”

“‘For this here baby is unquestionably alive, and as such is nothing to do with us, and is no part of our world.’”

“But there was a difference between the folk of the graveyard and this: a raw, flickering, startling shape the gray color of television static, all panic and naked emotion which flooded the Owens is as if it were their own.”

“‘ I do. For good or for evil - and I do firmly believe that this is for good - Mrs. Owens and her husband have taken this child under their protection. It is going to take more than just a couple of good-hearted souls to raise this child. It will’, said Silas, ‘take a graveyard.’”

I love the wording of this here. It reminds me of the phrase “it takes a village,” and I’m sure that is the intentional, but it is just a nice image. In the beginning of the book, I don’t think I was sure how to feel about dead people in a graveyard taking care of a human child. But this is a sweet, really human moment.

“‘He looks like nobody but himself,’ said Mrs. Owens, firmly. ‘He looks like nobody.’ ‘Then Nobody it is,’ said Silas. ‘Nobody Owens.’”

“Silas was regarded with a certain wary awe by the graveyard folk, existing as he did on the borderland between their world and the world they had left.”

“‘Who lies there? You know, Bod, in many cases it is written on the stone. Can you read yet? Do you know your alphabet?’ ‘My what?’”

“‘Well,’ she said. ‘There’s atoms, which is things that is too small to see, that’s what we are all made of. And there’s things that’s smaller than atoms, and that’s particle physics.’ Bod nodded and decided that Scarlett’s father was probably interested in imaginary things.’”

This quote is very interesting. We finally see Bod begin connecting the things he learns, even though they are a bit twisted. It really got me thinking about science versus fiction. If we do not not see some thing or ever experience it, is it truly there? Bod referring to Scarlett’s profession as “imaginary things” stirs up some thoughts about that in relation to the supernatural.

“One grave in every graveyard belongs to the ghouls. Wander any graveyard long enough and you will find it – waterstained and bulging, with cracked or broken stone, scraggly grass or rank weeds about it, and a feeling, when you reach it, of abandonment. It may be colder than the other gravestones, too, and the name on the stone is all too often impossible to read. If there is a statue on the grave it will be headless or so scabbed with fungus and lichens as to look like a fungus itself. If one grave in a graveyard looks like a target for petty vandals, that is the ghoul gate. If the grave makes you want to be somewhere else, that is the ghoul gate.”

“‘Name the different kinds of people,’ said Miss Lupescu. ‘Now.’ Bod thought for a moment. ‘The living,’ he said. ‘Er. The dead.’ He stopped. Then, ‘…Cats?’ he offered, uncertainly.”

“Those that men call Werewolves or Lycanthropes called themselves the Hounds of God, as they claim their transformation is a gift from their creator, and they repay the gift with their tenacity, for they will pursue an evil duer to the very gates of Hell.”

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Reflection 8

Things I’ll miss about London

The aesthetics of the city. Leave it up to me to be the social media, photo obsessed Gen Z, but I just find this city so beautiful and picturesque, even in areas that one might not first consider it. The ugliest parts of Greenville pale in comparison beauty-wise to the ugliest parts of London, in my opinion. I will miss my daily excursions and journeys passing wonderful architecture, old bridges, century-old rivers, etc. The rich, visible history is something I knew I’d love coming here, and it honestly blew past my expectations.

I will also miss the way this city *seems to* care about the environment. This might be a European v US thing altogether, however. Whether it’s actually serving a purpose or not, the paper straws, abundance of recycling resources, multitude of air hand dryers (much to my dissatisfaction), frequency of bike riders - it all just feels greener. I hope it’s beneficial and not just merely a surface action, because it does make me feel better about my carbon footprint and impact here.

I actually will miss public transport. I really did not think I would ever say such a thing, but it is honestly so convenient and I believe it very easy to navigate once you get the swing of things. However, my trusty iPhone gps has been by my side through it all, so I am not certain if I can make an unbiased statement without mentioning my technological aid.

The ability to romanticize. London being somewhere I never have to reside, I have the chance to only see or enjoy what I want to, and I have recently been able to recognize that power. I can swoon over the history, the traditions and mystery, the wonderful experiences around every corner, even the sweaty locals waving paper fans on the hottest day ever recorded, brought a sense of oneness and excitement to my heart. I realize this is a very whimsical way of thinking, but because we’re only here for so long, I’ve utilized it to make the trip more enjoyable. I can witness and endure the frustrating parts of this trip, but I can step right back out of them into my lovely London fantasy. Maybe this is a culture shock coping mechanism, but nonetheless, I will miss strolling through parks as if I’m the main character in a British romance drama, ignoring the pigeon crap beneath my feet and passed out men on benches.

The THEATRE! I could go on and on about how much the theatrical experiences here have amazed me. That was my draw originally to coming on this trip in the first place, and it could not have been more worth it. I love Broadway and American theatre, sure, but the deep history that exists here in London surrounding the theatre is SO enticing. It was the biggest gift to be able to experience it.

I will miss the weather. Despite the insanely hot two blip days, this mid-70s in July is just lovely. I think about going back to the sweaty, dead-heat armpit that is Greenville, NC, and I shudder. The lack of humidity is enough to make me consider moving here, however, we all know that that could not be possible with the severe lack of air conditioning. Which brings me to the cons list…

Things I’ll not miss about London

No AC. I just find it very interesting that this country can usually survive the weather of an entire year without needing air conditioning. I chock this up to two things. 1, they really don’t need AC as the temperance outside never really gets too hot to permit it (obvious 2022 blip aside). But 2, I think Americans are just weaklings, to be blunt. We are so incapable of just sticking it out, we have to have blasting cold air at all times. Now, don’t get me wrong, I know our outdoor heat is unbearable, but I have had many occasions where I’ll blast the AC just because, when I could’ve very well taken a cold shower and been just fine (mind you the pre-AC blast temperature was probably only like 73). Can cooling privilege be a thing? I just keep thinking about this concept. But nonetheless, I miss being cold indoors. I miss being cold in general, and I will be thrilled to find that feeling once again.

Rude people. They’re everywhere, I know. But here, they’re British, which makes them sound snobbier to me.

Surprisingly, I miss driving!

Alone time, space, peace, quiet. all the minor ones that make sense but still need acknowledging.

It’s not home. I am a very sentimental person. I can rant and rave about how incredible this trip was for me, but at the end of the day, I miss my people. It is a privileged way of thinking certainly, but I miss my comfort zone - my close friends and family, my dog, the long drives I take to get to my parents house, the country roads and fields I see each day, even my crappy apartment. I would definitely consider myself a homebody along with a country girl (just merely in the sense that I am not a city girl - I am not really a Country country girl… a suburb girl probably) so the city life is not one for me. I do believe I have definitely turned a page though in my ability to enjoy cities. London is so much more different than NYC than I was expecting it to be. It’s somehow more relaxed and spacious, or maybe I just imagine it is, now that I’m older and my anxiety has lessened since last visiting New York. Either way, I was so pleasantly surprised with how much I adored London, and I did not have a single city-induced panic attack. Lucky days!

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Ghoul Gates

I could not limit my ghoul gate findings to just one - there were so many interesting aspects of each photo I included here, even with the headstone that was not cracked or broken, but just featured the word “entrance”…

Highgate, due to the nature of its layout and longevity of its being there, had numerous “ghoul gates”, each more interesting than the last. I found it intriguing that some of them even has caution tape on them, which heightened the experience for me. Specifically, the coffins that were literally chewed into sent chills down my spine. I remember wondering if it was actually safe for us to be around these, breathing the air that crept through these spaces - were we even mentally safe, alongside the physical?

The very heavy pieces that were disrupted also intrigued me, as I began to wonder what phenomena could’ve moved or broken such a heavy chunk of rock/cement. I assumed an earth quake or heavy storm at first glance, but wonder what effect very slow erosion has had as well.

Overall, I found Highgate Cemetery and my search for ghoul gates very successful. It is very interesting and exciting to think of cracked graves as more than what they appear to be; to give meaning to their brokenness. That statement itself could sum up a lot of this trip if I’m honest!

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Reflection 7

I think the pace of this city has been and will continue to be a learning moment for me. During week two, we were rushing to catch a bus and Caroline very VERY nearly was almost hit by someone on a bike and a car right behind it. I very much felt my own life flash before my eyes, it was that close. That was probably the main event, but it allowed me to reflect upon the other instances - fast paced walkers, an abundance of grab and go shops, card-only/contactless payment, embarrassment of counting out coins, people riding bikes in the first place, etc.

This is still a common occurrence in the States, I know, in NYC and other more urban areas. But as a suburban gal, it’s new to me wherever it is. I think it’s also a nice juxtaposition to see slowness in parks, in cafes - the few places where you can find individuals at a steadier pace. When I was in Kensington Gardens/Hyde Park, the vastness of it was very eye opening to me in a sense. I knew big cities had parks, I just often thought they were fairly small, or at least not as large as this one was. It really felt secluded, and it reminded me so much of a park in my hometown that I spent my childhood at - with lots of walking trails, not too much tree coverage, but miles of sun and almost plain-like fields. It was so calming, and experiencing that park on my own really contributed to my ability to soak it in I think.

Another unfortunate learning moment that occurred was when Lauren was stopped in Bricklane markets by a security guard. We believe a merchant there must’ve believed her or one of us had stolen something, unfortunately we did have four big, full tote bags with us, and the guard asked Lauren to go through her bag. She asked to see the receipts for two of the shirts she had purchased at Spittalfields, and she did not have them. It was a frustrating situation because the woman just kept looking at us as though we could produce a receipt for her. I do understand the issue, the she had two shirts not in a shopping bag, with tags on them, but we had purchased them! And we told her where, and still, it was as though she was expecting us to say something new that would make it better. As foreigners, we weren’t certain the procedure, but looking back, I wish we’d been more forward. We didn’t steal anything, so what else did she want with us? If she was gonna cuff us or something, just do it, no need to stare at us like we’re dumb. We could’ve taken her all the way back to Spittalfield if need be. It reached a point where Lauren got very emotional and she let us go, but not without informing surrounding merchants and us walking out to the aggressively loud sounds of their gossip. It was just bullsh*t to be honest, and a situation that 1. Scared us, but 2. Was unwarranted and disrespectful. I understand the need to do things like that, but I assume that would be a frequent occurrence, having such a large market with little security and plenty of people walking around with large bags. There’s a lot of things that could be done to prevent that from happening - checking bags prior to walking in, for one. It was basically just humiliating, and despite being relatively comfortable here, was the type of situation that can make one realize just how isolated/out of place one can feel in a foreign country.

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Weekend of July 15-17

This weekend, my flatmates and I decided to buckle down and bear the AC-less heat of the following week. Friday after the London Dungeon, Morgan, Caroline, Lauren and I all decided to do the London Eye, just for tourism sake. It was so so beautiful, just to be able to see the entire city was a really sweet culmination of the past two weeks. Friday night, we decided to go out on the town. It was my first night going out at all, and my first night heavy drinking in a longggg time, and I definitely had too much fun. Much to my dismay, apparently Long Island Iced Teas are NOT alcoholic Arnold Palmers … and they are DELICIOUS! I downed one too many, but it was an incredibly fun night.

Saturday I woke up feeling like death. We had to bust butt to Highgate Cemetery for our walking tour, and it was very interesting, but I was violently hungover and overheating as mess. We learned so much about the history of the cemetery as well as the people who are buried there and their legacies. I was really glad we did it! We also were able to snap some photos of natural/unnatural spaces, as well as ghoul gates and pick up on some ghost stories. I spent the rest of Saturday resting and took my first nap of the trip! 3 hours at that, but I sadly woke up feeling more sluggish, so I continued the day resting and catching up on daybook posts.

Sunday - woke up feeling arguably even worse sadly. But was determined to not let the day get the best of me! After a late start, I was able to see Mad House with David Harbour and Bill Pullman at the Ambassadors Theatre, and I believe it was the best play I may have ever seen in my life. Often times, we see movies that make us feel as though we are truly witnessing reality - but that phenomena is very rare and hard to come by in stage shows. This was the first play I’ve seen where I truly felt like I was watching a real occurrence play out before me. And it wasn’t just the celebrity actors that were amazing, the entire cast was absolutely stellar. It did make me giggle when the British actors would have to “find” their American/Philly accents every time they would come onstage (apparently Irish/Scottish is very similar, as that seemed to be the default, unless the actors themselves were Irish or Scottish…😜).

This morning I woke up somehow feeling even sicker! Yet still negative for covid. I chock it up to a three day old hangover, heat exhaustion, and lack of sleep/necessary nutrients (all I’ve eaten for three weeks is sandwiches and an abundance of carbs). However, my sweet little boyfriend ordered flowers online for me to pickup, and they were just lovely. It was a wonderful start to the week. I am really looking forward to wrapping up the trip, exploring London a few last couple times, and watching the temperature steadily drop again!

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A Monster Calls Quotes Week II

“Harry raised a fist and pulled it back as if to swing it at Conor’s face. Conor still didn’t flinch. He didn’t even move. He just stared into Harry’s eyes, waiting for the punch to fall. But it didn’t. Harry lowered his fist, dropping it slowly down by his side, still staring at Conor. ‘Yes,’ he finally said, quietly, as if he’d worked something out. ‘That’s what I thought.’

“But what is a dream, Conor O’Malley? the monster said, bending down so it’s face was close to Conor’s. Who is to say that it is not everything else that is the dream?”

“There was his father, looking totally different but exactly the same. ‘Hey son,’ his dad said, his voice bending in that weird way that America had started to shape it. Conor smiled wider than he had for at least a year.”

I found this quote very interesting, and subsequently, Conor’s entire relationship with his father interesting. I am not the type to fully be able to understand how one can forgive a parent who abandons the family, especially a parent who manages to go off and start a new family. it just really rubs me the wrong way. I found it hard to empathize with Conor’s father and, in turn, Conor himself. But when I spoke about this in class, Sarah said something super insightful. She talked about how that notion itself, not being able to understand the empathy and forgiveness, is part of the lesson - that even monsters are dual sided - and we can witness grace in that. It was a beautiful concept, especially coming from Sarah who shares my beliefs as a Christian. Grace is something that means a lot to us, and that was a very humbling instance.

“But Conor didn’t run. In fact, he found he wasn’t even frightened. All he could feel, all he had felt since the monster revealed itself was a growing disappointment. Because this wasn’t the monster he was expecting.”

“Conor stopped suddenly and turned to her. He looked so angry she step back, startled, almost like she was afraid. ‘It’s your fault,’ he said. “it’s all your fault.’”

“So eventually he stopped going over to groups of friends, stopped looking up at the whispers, and even stopped putting up his hand. Not that anyone seemed to notice. It was like he’d suddenly turned invisible.”

“He knew right then he could probably stay out there all day and no one would punish him for it. Which somehow made him feel even worse.”

“She kept forward through the rubbish almost as if she didn’t even see it. Conor backed away from her quickly, stumbling over the ruins of the settee. He kept a hand up to protect himself, expecting blows to land any moment - but she wasn’t coming for him. She walked right past him, her face twisted in tears, the moaning spilling out of her again. She went to the display cabinet, the only thing remaining upright in the room. And she grabbed it by one side - and pulled on it hard once - twice - and a third time. Sending it crashing to the floor with a final-sounding crunch.”

I really enjoyed this segment of the book. Seeing Conor’s grandmother reach her breaking point was a kind of turning point for me in the novel. Seeing her crack, that is something that I know happens to a lot of individuals - being pushed to your limit and then exploding. I think this is telling of the multi-faceted monster, that what we consider monstrous is often not, or is just often nuanced.

“‘The green things of this world are just wondrous, aren’t they?’ his mother went on. ‘We work so hard to get rid of them when sometimes they’re the very things that save us.’ ‘Is it going to save you?’ Conor asked, barely able to even say it. His mum smiled again. ‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘I believe so.’”

“There was a small park across from the hospital with paths among the trees. As Conor and his father walked through it toward an empty bench, they kept passing patients in hospital gowns, walking with their families or out on their own sneaking cigarettes. It made the park feel like an outdoor hospital room. Or a place where ghosts went to have a break.”

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Natural v The UnNatural

The spaces I collected that I deemed unnatural mingling with the natural were found in Highgate Cemetery. There was an abundance of shadows, dark places juxtaposed with the greenery. I also adore looking at the man-made headstones, how they’ve collected over the years, and nature has had her way with them. We see this in how some of the graves, even the coffins themselves have been defamed by wildlife/the elements. This collection of variables is the perfect example of natural alongside unnatural in the historic areas of London.

The natural : bright, beautiful greenery, stretching far and wide among the cemetery - unrestrained, certain, undeterred.

The unnatural : hundreds, thousands of dark, hard cemented slabs, tons of unearthed soil. buildings erected and placed as a spectacle for humanity to come observe.

These images showcase the direct intersection of these two phenomena.

London’s monsters can look like anything, truth be told. In this space, you could almost feel monsters presiding around every corner. In the crevices of the cracked graves, in the chewed-through coffin covers, lurking around the corners behind gates - you could search for them everywhere. Within the urbanized city I would still argue the same. All you have to do is keep your eyes out for them.

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Neurodiversity and Disability in the City

This city is not suitable for individuals with physical disabilities in any way. After discussing it in class, I began taking more notice of accessibility in London and the subsequent lack-thereof. It’s quite alarming, but at the same time, it’s understandable. This city is centuries old. As it has modernized, the history and architecture has strived to be upheld, but also cannot maintain itself 100% with the sheer amount of people and technology growing in the area.

I see parallels to this in my hometown, Wake Forest, NC. Just twenty years ago, it was almost all farmland. It has rapidly grown and industrialized, and we are constantly struggling to keep up with the amount of people that live there. Constantly trying to enlarge roads causes more problems often in such heavily populated areas with many school districts and families disrupted by construction. It’s all a big hot mess!

Neurodiversity struggles are another concept that I might not have the best ability to speak on, but I imagine it’s challenging, but not moreso than suburbia might be in its own right. There’s loads of signs that I would hope assist, but the speed and pace of the city might definitely pose a conflict. Because I am not neurodivergent, I am not certain what exact struggles might be faced, but that is something I will continue to observe and look out for and update this post. I believe with neurodiversity as well, it’s challenging anywhere, it just depends on one’s comfortability and practice/relative knowledge of where they are. Someone who was born and raised in a big city versus someone born and raised in the suburbs (both of whom are neurodivergent and still reside in their subsequent areas) might face different struggles, but of the same degree of challenge, due to their growing up.

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Reflection 6

I had never read up on monster theory/theses prior to this trip, so it has been very interesting viewing that for the first time and being able to compare it with all the monsters/folklore we are witnessing as apart of the class/city experiences.

I have witnessed the thesis of differences (monsters dwell at the gates of difference) very clearly. Ursula in Unfortunate is gawked at for being physically different, much like Elphaba in Wicked. Even Conor in Monster Calls experiences ostracization and isolation from experiencing things deemed “different” than the usual childhood experience - his mother’s cancer. I think the reason differences via monster theory are so prevalent in “monster culture” is because they have the power to isolate and make one feel alone. This can negatively impact a person in so many ways and almost always lead to their being misunderstood, and subsequently turn them into the monster, as very clear with the above examples as well.

I think also, if I want to really reach and consider either myself or the people I’ve had negative interactions with as the monster, the differences we have are the driving factor. Culturally, morally, maybe socially - there are so many differences that exist between the folks here and myself, yet, there are also a multitude of similarities that somehow go unnoticed when differences take the forefront. Obvious differences too, often physical ones, are what divide quicker than less obvious differences.

I think about the assumptions we make, I wonder about if I ever pass off as a local until I open my mouth and the American slightly southern twang of my voice gives me clearly away. But I also think about the beliefs my classmates and I have assumed about each other amidst this trip that do not get combatted in our discourse. These concepts are intriguing to consider, not only in a foreign country, but in our day to day lives as well.

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Neverwhere & the Tube

The Tube is interesting to me. I find the notion of the tube being magical a bit far fetched, some of my classmates have contributed to this concept, but I personally just don’t subscribe to it.

I think the Tube reminds me too much of the New York City subway, which I just despise. It is worse, however, than the Tube - it’s fast-paced, entrances and exits are more complicated and cramped, you cannot stop to check routes and maps because there isn’t enough space to stop and there isn’t enough time to waste. So NYC is worse. But the tube is so reminiscent of it for me, I’ve yet to push past my slight dislike of it.

I will say, however, there is a connection to be felt with the people in the tube. The first photo I took, of my tattoo in front of the window to the car in front of mine, I felt a moment of peace and understanding about all the people on the tube. Not that I desire to tie my religious views into every post, but because it’s such a big part of my life, I just will… lol. But, my tattoo reads know and love - know God and love Him, and then know others and love them. I believe I am called to know peoples hearts and love them. When I often disassociate myself from where I am, I disconnect myself from the people I see. But we are all human beings. Each person on the tube has a life and a story and a journey and a purpose. Knowing we are all coming and going from a multitude of places and have a few moments together, usually in silence, transporting from one place to another extremely quickly, dare I say magically?…, it is a unique thought.

That concept itself actually can make me see how the tube can be magical, and Neverwhere touches on this beautiful with its infamous concept “Mind the Gap”

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Reflection 5

After a week and a half, I feel really confident about my navigation through the city (though that may be due to my constant reliance on iPhone GPS) , as well as my monetary skills, despite the majority of purchases being card only. So.. maybe I’m not doing too hot. But nonetheless, my severe anxiety about being abroad has seemed to steady, so for that I’m grateful.

I obviously am doing things a lot different here than at home, just due to the different circumstances - mainly suburb vs. city life. I am very comfortable in my suburban life, I feel less anxious in the country, knowing I’ve got space to roam or drive. I suppose things take less time here, being in such close proximity to so much, but part of me feels like my life back home is actually faster - knowing I can hop in my car and get somewhere in less than 20 minutes. I think that notion is also encouraged by my lack of enthusiasm for walking.

We walk everywhere here. What’s silly is that is sometimes my biggest source of anxiety..? I am not sure why, but transportation brings me a lot of stress, so coping with that is actually harder than some other aspects of being here.

If I were to imagine all the circumstances here to be more extreme - bringing in a language barrier or religious persecution, or even both - I would probably be a goner. When I went to Germany this past weekend, I was already struggling with the language barrier. Funny enough, I mostly dealt with not being able to read menus, which is such a minor inconvenience, but it still is impactful and represents bigger struggles I would face living there.

I also believe English-speakers are incredibly fortunate that almost everywhere you go in the world, you will be able to find someone who speaks some English. Speaking a universal language is such a privilege, and that is something I graciously can recognize.

In relation to religious persecution, I grew up in a church with a heavy missions focus, and while there is religious freedom here and in the US, I am very aware of places in the world where religious freedom is completely illegal. I have known missionaries who have to engage under false names, cannot disclose their locations, and have to be extremely cautious with correspondence, and require deletion of all emails, etc. when they are able to communicate. It is very dangerous, and I have never seriously considered doing something that risky, but I cannot imagine living in or visiting a place like that - what I would do or how I would feel. Fear is the main thing that drives religious persecution, and as a fearful person myself, being bold in those areas (to share your faith or even to just live your faith for yourself openly) would paralyze me I fear. I am grateful I do not have to experience that where I live and here in the UK, but it is important to think about, especially with religions that may be secretly persecuted, governmentally or socially, in places I’ve been and/or live.

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Peter Pan-ception

I believe the statue in Kensington Garden is the more “accurate depiction” of Peter Pan, if you will, mostly because of the detail, accessories/trinkets be features, but also because I simply believe the one at Great Ormand Street Hospital pales in comparison.

I think his stance and hand to Tink at Great Ormand isn’t the best representation of him, however, I do believe it is a sweeter picture especially in front of a children’s hospital. It feels more innocent and playful.

I also enjoy the interaction elements with the statue at Kensington Garden, the scannable QR code with more information, the plaques, it just felt like a bit more of an attraction. I also believe the statue at the hospital couldn’t be viewed as an attraction even if it wanted to, because it was so directly in front of a hospital, it felt disrespectful for us to visit it, let alone take photos of it. If it could be further away from the front entrance, or even more centered or kept in a larger garden/park on-site, I think it would be easier to view as a “site” in a way.

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Peter Pan Quotes - Week 1

Wendy Darling

“‘I shall sew it on for you, my little man,’ though he was as tall as herself; and she got out her housewife, and sewed the shadow onto Peter’s foot.”

“‘She is dead,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘Perhaps she is frightened at being dead.’”

“Wendy’s favorite time for sewing and darning was after they had all gone to bed. Then, as she expressed it, she had a breathing time for her self; and she occupied it in making new things for them, and putting double pieces on the knees, for they were all most frightfully hard on their knees.”

This quote tickled me because it obviously insinuated poor Wendy as the housewife. Even an earlier quote showcases that she has a kit called a housewife with “womanly” supplies like a sewing kit, and I’m sure a first aid kit as well. This can be viewed as very dated and misogynistic, but either way, I think it’s cute that when she is given free time (at last, as the text shows), she still uses it to do more homely things like make the boys more clothes or fix them up.

Nana

“ She tied the unhappy dog up again, but do you think Nana ceased to bark? call master and missus home from the party! Why, that was just what she wanted. Do you think she cared whether she was whipped so long as her charges were safe? Unfortunately Liza return to her puddings, and Nana, seeing that no help would come from her, strained and strained at the chain until at last she broke it.”

Tinker Bell/Fairies

“Do you think Tinker Bell was grateful to Wendy for raising her arm? Oh dear know, never wanted to pinch her so much. Fairies indeed are strange, and Peter, who understood the best, often cuffed them.”

“After a time he fell asleep and some unsteady fairies had to climb over him on their way home from an orgy. Any of the other boys obstructing the fairy path at night they would have mischiefed, but they just tweaked peter’s nose and passed on.”

The fairies as a whole really crack me up because they’re quite diabolical. I cannot believe the word “orgy” was actually printed in a book for children. Did it have another meaning back then? The book touches on it, but most modern adaptations don’t, this idea that Tink is a very vindictive, jealous person and really wants Wendy dead. This paired with the tiny bit of lore I know about fairies is just interesting to me and makes me want to look more into them.

Peter Pan

“next moment he was standing erect on the rock again, with that smile on his face and a drum beating within him. It was saying, ‘to die will be an awfully big adventure.’”

“always when he said, ‘Peter Pan has spoken,’ it meant that they must now shut up, and they accepted it humbly in that spirit; but they were by no means so respectful to the other boys, whom they looked upon as just ordinary braves.”

“Peter was such a small boy that one tends to wonder at the man’s hatred of him. True he had flung hooks arm to the crocodile; but even this and the increased insecurity of life to watch it lead, owing to the crocodiles pertinacity, hardly account for a vindictiveness so relentless and malignant. The truth is that there was a something about Peter which goaded the pirate captain to frenzy. It was not his courage, it was not his engaging appearance, it was not-. There is no beating about the bush, for we know quite well what it was, and have got to tell. It was Peter‘s cockiness.”

Miscellaneous

“sometimes it was dark and sometimes light, and now they were very cold and again too warm. Did they really feel hungry at times, or were they merely pretending, because Peter had such a jolly new way of feeding them?”

[cant-be-thamed]

Reflection 4

The supernatural/natural aspects of London is something I’ve been loving thinking about, mainly because it is something I do not think about in the States. Europe and London itself have such rich history that extends far past what I know in America, and I believe that contributes to the concept of supernatural/natural.

Whether it’s true or not, I think I witness historical places as having more connection to supernatural aspects because I do not subscribe to too many modern examples of supernaturalism. Because I am very religious, I do believe in spiritual warfare/demons, but I often avoid what could be considered “spiritualism” and things of that nature. In the United States, aside from the above examples for me personally, our country doesn’t have a rich enough history to have centuries of folklore, etc., and that may be why I have yet to tap into the concept as a whole. It is often easier for me to study something very old because I can disassociate my modern life from it.

In America, though I’m sure spiritualism and supernaturalism is extraordinarily prevalent, I do not see or think about it. This is not only because I often think it’s irrelevant to my life, but because it is so current that I cannot view it in the same way as I can the historic supernatualism I read about in books from years and years ago. Along this process, I have been curious, however, to tap more into what I do believe about spiritual aspects and how I can witness them in a way that is comfortable to me, and doesn’t feel silly or fake. I think being in a city where some of these concepts have such deep connections historically however, it is more appealing to me through this experience.

I think the supernatural aspects of London can be witnessed in the underground spaces, and I’m excited to explore them more - the Tube, the London Dungeon, crypts, etc. Along with this, as a classmate of mine has mentioned, includes shadows and darkness.

I think darkness, or rather, the unknown, exemplifies so much that is relevant to the supernatural versus the natural. These dark spaces, in my mind, could also be representative of a gate between worlds as well - a gate between the supernatural and the natural.

[cant-be-thamed]

Reflection 3

To reflect on the week, I believe the best way to sum it up would include this quote from Dr. Banks during class one morning.

“Just because there isn’t a language barrier, doesn’t mean this is still not foreign.”

I had much expectation coming into this trip that it would be light-years easier than my last trip to Europe when I had severe culture shock in the middle of Spain that manifested itself as a paralyzing panic attack…

WHICH, was definitely worse comparatively. However, it hasn’t been a total breeze.

I still feel silly counting coins, ordering food or drinks from people who clearly can’t be bothered with unintelligent Americans, and just generally speaking at all because I know having an American accent automatically can lead towards assumptions and judgements.

As I’ve been unpacking that last point in my own mind, it’s really impacted me. I make judgements about people in the United States that I come across every so often. They’re usually not bad, my first instinct is almost always “wow they’re so poised” or, “I bet they’re used to much healthier or just different kinds of foods” (I worked in a grocery store for 3 years so most of these interactions took place there😜), but that was also in a rural North Carolina town.

Here, I wonder what assumptions are intrinsic to British, especially London, culture as it is a city teeming with Americans and just general tourism. I hate that I might be seen as ethnocentric or entitled in nature, merely because some people assume all Americans are that way. However, I also believe it to be a judge,ent on my end to assume the general London public makes judgements about me. We spoke about it in class, and someone made the comment that realistically, they likely do not even care about us. I understand that point, but I think seeing it from that perspective can also dehumanize the civilians we’ve encounter and will continue to. I’d like to consider myself empathetic, so I like to think I can care about and for people, even through small interactions. I don’t like to think of myself merely existing next to the locals here - I want to live with them.

And maybe that’s a tough ask, maybe it’s too much of an ask and too obviously a romanticized version of life, to localize myself for a mere three weeks in a city I am still fairly lost among. But it’s a sweet thought, and I think my dissatisfaction with my failure to integrate can live harmoniously with the locals desire to avoid bending over backwards for Americans; but, my desire for that to occur is ethnocentrism itself maybe…

However, everyone can stand to be kinder. That doesn’t have to be excused away.

But alas, that is just my wishful thinking. Southern hospitality has spoiled me rotten. But I have adored London thus far and am more excited than ever to keep putzing around like I know what I’m doing. And that’s a big joy in life, faking it til you make it;)