Today, I rode my bike alongside the gentle giant and basked in the sunlight and the respite from reading.
I wore my biking hat, I processed, I got grease on my leg, I took some pictures (obvi), I got some sun, and I breathed the crisp air that comes on the cusp of fall (alliteration).
Definitely a good choice. Cheers to the British autumn.
(I didn't mean to look like a pompous philosopher in this picture)
Three so far: Paris, Oxford, and to a lesser extent Seattle (not too many tourists flocking in droves to see the coypu at the canal).
But, since I'm always in transition when I visit these cities, I end up in this weird space somewhere between local and tourist.
In Oxford I feel like a local whenever I ride my bike. In Oxford I feel like a tourist whenever I take my camera out of my backpack or open my mouth.
But I think the difference between living in Paris and living in Oxford is that in Paris I lived and shared and conversed with locals or ex-pats. Here I live with American students, have met probably five British people and only somewhat know one.
So despite the bike, I feel much more like a tourist here at Oxford (even my legit Oxford student card says "Visiting Student" on it...just as a reminder).
That brings me, however, to what I really wanted to talk about. The difference between tourism and travel.
With this large group of Americans, I've gone on 3 "field trips" so far that usually consist of sitting on a bus, getting off the bus, listening to someone talk, take pictures, get back on the bus. Although our program ostensibly "doesn't want us to be tourists" and tries instead to make us "informed" by just lecturing us the day before on what we're about to see, I just can't help but feel like an alien when I exit the bus with 60 rowdy Americans with backpacks, cameras, and University of Oxford sweatshirts.
So I wonder, is there a difference between traveling and tourism. Is it just the large group? Would I be any less of a tourist if I went to see Stonehenge alone?
Probably not...I think the group just tends to magnify the ridiculousness of what it is we're forced to do.
As a tourist, you're forced--whether by yourself or your program director--to visit certain parts of the country that make up its "national identity." You get out, you know a bit about what you're looking at, you learn a little bit more, you take some pictures that you could probably have found on a postcard in the United States, and then you leave. Seemingly, the only reason for going is to say that you went.
I find that somewhat disgusting. I also think that's the difference between tourism and travel.
Traveling is about an experience. It's about the journey. It's as much about where you're going as it is about getting there. You can go to National Heritage sites and not be a tourist. I just think it needs to be motivated not by this inane desire to check off another castle or rock formation from your bucket list, but a desire to see the site for itself--not for what it means for your friends back home--and to enjoy it in its totality with whoever you're there with.
And that's why I love visiting cities where I have friends. When I go to a place like London, where I know no one, it seems as if I'm walking around and checking off things from a list. I bet a lot of people in my program would be suprised if they found out I spent two days in London and didn't see the Imperial War Museum, the British Museum, the Tower of London, etc. But for me London wasn't about seeing as many sites as humanly possible in a 48 hour period, but about reconnecting with Alex and Nate over a pint and roaming the streets, wherever they led us.
Being in Paris was similar. I didn't go to walk every square foot of the Louvre, but to reconnect and to walk (or rather, bike) the streets. I know its a bit nuanced since I've done almost every touristical activity in that city, but I think if I went back to my exchange I would relax a bit, and not be so hard on myself for not going to different monuments all the time.
And I think that's what I need to do here. I've been sort of stressed because I've been so busy with writing and researching that I haven't had much time to see the sites that I'm "supposed to see." In addition, I came into the country, Lonely Planet travel guide in hand, expecting to see as much of the country as possible. But both of those things are stifling. I shouldn't feel that I need to see anything. I should probably want to, since I'm here and all, but I'm not going to spend 5 hours a day seeing museums that aren't enjoyable just to say that I've been to them.
So I'm not going to. I'm going to be here, and I'm going to enjoy it. I'm going to work in moderation, relax in moderation, and visit in moderation. And when I leave, I will be content with what I've acheived and seen, knowing that I'm not a tourist, and probably not a traveler, but somewhere in between.
And in a week, I'll be putting all of this into practice as I head off with Nate and Alex to visit Tyler Hargan and his parents in Riga, Latvia.
Hypothetical situation: You have one week to live. You have the opportunity to find out the answers to two eternal questions that have been plaguing your mind before you hit the hay.
Which questions would you have answered?
Personally, I'd probably choose these two: "What can maps tell us about the medieval conception of time?" and "Was Oxford a typical medieval university?"
Incidentally, it's quite lucky that I will have the answers to these two questions by next Monday, and, in addition, will hopefully have more than a week to live. The only downside is that I have to find the answers myself, and I have to write two eight-page papers explaining those answers.
In any case, I know what I'm doing this week, so before I retreat into the dark corners of the Bodleian library, I thought I'd leave you with some pictures from the last week.
So I've made a few new friends over the past couple days, but none more important than Emmelle.
Truly, out of everyone here in the program, I will probably spend more quality, intimate time with her than I will with Alex or Nate.
Because I bought her, some might say that we might not have a 'legal' or 'legitimate' relationship, but, I would argue, rather, that her and I were meant to be together and have a special bond, ordained since the beginning of time.
Meet Emmelle, my new bicycle. Whilst buying the bike, the nice British bike expert at the shop was saying that she was a good bike, just so long as I didn't have to go up Headington Hill (the only hill in Oxford, which, coincidentally, I do have to go up everyday). But, I figure that: 1--this hill is no Third Avenue West, and 2--I need some way to burn off those pounds I'm putting on at the pubs. So, this whole being-placed-in-the-house-that-I-didn't-apply-to-live-in business may actually turn out to be a good thing for my general health and well-being.
In other news, I'm living in Oxford(I guess technically Headington but who's really counting), where time is measured in centuries, not decades or years; where browsing a section of the library (that, mind you, only students can enter) merits condescending glances and furrowed brows; where intellectual inquiry and somewhat pretentious-sounding conversation is not only commonplace but expected; and where you often fully expect Harry Potter to pop out of about half of the buildings on campus.
Like I said, I've met a lot of people. Some really interesting, and others really 'interesting.' But there are definitely some gems and I'm excited to spend the next three months mining their brains and hearts (and, come to think of it, my own as well).
Welp, this little 2+ week vacation is almost finished.
It's been at times bizarre, stunning, comforting, fulfilling, tiring, and relaxing.
But mostly it has felt like I'm living here again (with the corollary of that being that I will continue to live here), so I think my confused senses will get a wake up call (in more ways than one) when I board the Eurostar tomorrow at 6:45 (that would be A.M. my friends, a brotha's gotta save himself 20 euros when he can save himself 20 euros) and head off to the United Kingdom.
This last month or so has been a somewhat awkward transition from life in Seattle, to a short stint of life in Colorado, then adjusting to life again here in Paris. I've never really felt settled since I left Seattle, and just as I'm beginning to feel that here, I'm off again. So I hope 3.5 months at Oxford will give me a bit more time to get my bearings and truly live in the now and the here.
But until then, I'm enjoying one last day of Paris and people I love dearly.
