Familiarity

Familiarity can be both comforting and redundant. Most of what I’ve seen in the past week is familiar to me: St. Paul’s Cathedral, John Wesley’s chapel, the Russell Square tube stop, the wood paneling of a neighborhood pub, the cobblestones and Elizabethan timbers of York streets. Descending into the peopled pipeline called the London Underground only to be spit out onto the pavement across town was a surprisingly natural experience for me. I had to remember that the bewildered students trying to keep up with me were new to this. They had yet to acquire the familiarity needed to successfully navigate this foreign land.

That familiarity gap is something I’m trying to overcome. In fact, it’s part of my job to eliminate that gap. Now that we’re a week into this trip, the students are more sure of themselves. They’re more sure of living out of a suitcase, they’re picking up on cultural subtleties, they know where to find a good lunch, and they’re figuring out what they want to see and do--parks, pubs, churches, shopping. I hope I’ve been able to encourage that and I hope I can continue to do so.

Familiarity with one another is also becoming apparent. Although small groups exist within the larger group, a community is beginning to take shape. Some are shyer than others and are more reluctant to break out of their small circle of friends, but my hope is that a spirit of unity will come to supersede any divisions or cliquish tendencies. Just as familiarity enables confidence as we travel and experience new cultures, it also enables confidence, security, and trust for us within this new community of people.

The stabling and enabling power of knowing your surrounds is undeniable, but I’ve also found it to be draining. I don’t see with the same wide-eyed wonder as the students. Coming into town on the Tube from Heathrow I noticed the expression of one of the students as the train came to the surface. Even though we were passing through the urban sprawl of greater London, she had the biggest grin on the train. I asked her what it was that made her so excited. She simply replied, “everything!”

Here in York, there are Roman and Medieval ruins scattered all over town. Seeing them for the third time, I felt no sense of awe. Walking into the York Minster, a marvelous Medieval gothic cathedral that towers above the city, I failed to be inspired or humbled by it’s beauty or immensity. Here I am, a visitor, yet my surroundings seem as mundane and commonplace as the wallpaper in my parents’ kitchen. Yet none of it is home, none of it has the comfort or serenity of everyday trappings. I’m not a stranger in a strange land. I’m a stranger in a familiar land.

I look forward to having wide-eyed excitement on this trip, but I don’t know if it will happen and I’m okay with that. I’m learning to readjust my expectations, but I’m not entirely sure I know what I’m supposed to change them to. I do know that my role this time around will be different than my role on previous trips. I’m excited about that. Who cares about Edinburgh Castle or the River Thames? I’m excited to figure out why I’m here.