British-isms

I've been pretty open about the fact that originally, moving to England wasn't top on my list because I wanted to become proficient in Spanish. In the end, I am unspeakably glad I am here for my YAGM year, even though it has nothing to do with learning Spanish at all - there are just so many other great things about living in York. And learning British-isms is certainly fun and satisfying in its own way. I kept a list in my journal in the beginning of new-to-me phrases, but over time forgot to be amazed when someone said something I'd only ever heard before in Harry Potter.

But I started thinking about learning a language all over again thanks to Apu (Shantonu's cousin) who sent a list of 88 British Phrases to Shantonu and me. Read 88 British Phrases That Will Confuse Anyone Who Didn't Grow Up in the UK here. On first thought, I added Number 89 - naff, which basically means something is messed up. Then I thought of a few other Yorkshire-specific words. It still delights me to hear them - things like nowt or hiya. Nowt means nothing - I was walking down the street lately and a woman asked a man if he had been given any sort of directions or assistance, and he responded with a very emphatic nowt. I was inordinately pleased by this exchange for some reason. It's the little things, innit? (isn't it)

Another Yorkshire expression that I fancy (like) is the York-typical greeting of "Hiya! You alright?" It's like saying, "Hey, how are you?" but when I first moved here it confused me endlessly. Specifically, one of the women who works at The Island would greet me as such. And I never could figure out how to respond. Yes? I'm alright? Fine? OK? To me, at the beginning, it sounded like she was asking if I was doing OK, which to me then meant I must have looked like I wasn't doing OK. It didn't sound like the equivalent of "How are you?" at all. And I was worried I would be par if I responded incorrectly (committing a breach of social etiquette).

I know some Americans find this phrase rather mingy (unpleasant) but I began to like its lilting cadence, and now, somehow, it feels perfectly natural to respond to the query with a simple, "Yeah, you?". And I find myself greeting others with this same easy expression - it rolls off the tongue to say it as I swing my groceries up on the counter or walk in to a doctor's office. It's not the same as mastering the pluperfect tense in French, but upon realizing that I've adopted this quirky pleasantry, I was pretty chuffed (pleased). I felt bloody dench (damn cool).

Open Eyes

“In your first few hours in a new place, while you’re still dazed, before you can even really believe you’ve arrived, you see it more vividly and clearly than you ever will again.”

-- Michael Frayn, Sweet Dreams

This quote evoked a strong, visceral remembrance of my first few days in England back in August. (I got it from one of Gretchen Rubin's daily Moment of Happiness emails.)

That first day, while the four YAGMs I had traveled with were all met one-by-one by their host families or host site coordinators at the Heathrow airport, I lugged two heavy suitcases on the tube through London to King's Cross. There, I sat in a stupor watching tourists take their pictures at the Harry Potter trolley cart waiting for my train up to York. The only notable thought I recall from that hazyhour was, "Uuughhhh....what was I thinking?!?!".

Even though I was tired and overwhelmed and had no idea what was in store for me, I also remember the first few weeks of being in England as being a time where I noticed everything with fresh eyes and it was thrilling. I got a little frisson of pleasure whenever I discovered a quirk of British culture. I can't describe it any other way than that my eyes felt very wide open. I was soaking in the world around me. I wonder if there is a word in another language for this sensation - or an English word I don't know. If you do, send it to me!

I felt that the littlest, most mundane things were incredibly exciting - the double yellow lines on no-parking zones, driving on the left side of the road, the way that that signs had "please" and "thank you", the on-off switch at electrical outlets, and the 5p cost of every shopping bag.

It was enchanting to see ancient stone structures next door to the library, the ruins of an abbey in a public garden, to live only steps from the famed city walls.

And I really liked seeing waterfowl all over the place - York is on the water and renowned for having geese and ducks wandering about the city.

Like these dudes who were strutting through the Sainsbury's parking early one morning.

Growing personally in relation to the city was delightful, too. I loved slowly but surely getting a sense of my surroundings and not getting lost so much (but I also kind of loved getting lost, too). I loved finally finding "my" places - the library, the bookstores, the cafes, and the parks that I'd go to when I wanted comfort and solace.

And I loved the walkability and friendliness of the streets of York. I rejoiced in the tiny triumphs of making friends and getting to know people, of getting involved with something at work, and relished a little bit of extra alone time. I felt - and still feel - like my eyes were wide open, soaking in everything new and different.

This is a joyous reflection on what makes living here wonderful, but it's also been one of the hardest years of my life, and it's easy to forget how lucky I am to be in York. When I realize I'm starting to take this year for granted, I try to capture that open-eyed feeling again and look around my temporary home and appreciate all the little fascinating details that make England unique.

I try to remember the feeling of freshness of living in a new place I had when I first arrived. The sensation of boundless appreciation for newness, captured perfectly by this quote, helps me remember what a privilege it is be living here.

Words from the United Kingdom YAGMs

Even though I hear about their lives almost every day through our group message, I still love reading my fellow UK YAGM friends' writings - it's a reminder all over again of the fantastic things they are doing. Many of us keep blogs, and as I've mentioned before, we are all required by the program to send a newsletter every two months. This keeps our home churches, families, and communities up-to-date on our lives abroad, and serves as a way to reflect on our growth.

Since I write a lot on here about me, I thought it would be nice to share a little bit more about some of the amazing people who are making this year really worth it. I've mentioned before, but it's worth saying again: My YAGM cohort is THE BEST. I love this fun, crazy, emotional, thoughtful, bright, and brilliant cohort of mine.

Here are some of our recent writings. Just click on the person's name to read one of their recent blog posts or newsletters. Enjoy!

Allison: Allison is also serving at United Reformed Church like me, this one in the city of Wolverhampton (somewhat close to Birmingham).

Grace: Grace serves at two Anglican churches in Salford, which is a borough of Manchester.

Molly: Molly serves at a Baptist church in Didcot, which is a town about 20 minutes outside of Oxford.

Annie: Annie serves on-board a bus that is open to kids each night as a safe place to hang out - basically a mobile youth center. Her placement is in the city of Leicester.

Sarah P.: Sarah P. serves at a Baptist church in Milton-under-Wychwood.

Jasmine: Jasmine serves at an Anglican church in Manchester as the parish assistant.

Rosina: Rosina works at four United Reformed Churches in Hull (which is also in Yorkshire!).

Katie (me!): My most recent newsletter.

Danielle: Danielle serves at an all-girls boarding school in Winchester.

Heath: Heath serves at a men's in-patient rehab clinic in Loughborough.

Sarah B,: Sarah B. serves at an afterschool program in East London.

Today I Am Free

Today I am free. The chains have been loosed, the bonds broken. My spirit sings and it soars.

Today was the first day since October that I went outside and did not wear a hat.

No, I am not exaggerating. I've had hat hair since OCTOBER, PEOPLE. It is not fun. But when you retain absolutely zero body heat like me, a hat is not an option but a necessity in this country, if you don't want to curl up in the fetal position next to a radiator and not move for six months. So I wear hats inside and outside. I even had someone at church ask me, whilst pointing towards my hat, "Does that thing ever leave your head?"

And so today, I felt like a woman newly freed from prison. A hat prison, if you will. A prison of having my head suffocated by the wool and polyester combos that make my hair look chronically terrible and give me dreadful dandruff and make it impossible to hear mumblers and have any sort of peripheral vision. Because OTHERWISE! Otherwise, without a hat, I would have literally frozen from the inside out. My blood would have turned into ice cubes starting with my brain and moving downwards. This is life without a hat in York. That would have been my life. Without a hat. In York.

So I wore the damn hat. Almost all day, definitely every day, I wore a hat almost everywhere.

But not today. Today I was brave, and it took only a moment to fling off my hat at the door. I said, "Goodbye hat! It is April! I do not need you!" The hat sat limply, quietly, on the counter, accepting its fate to be cast aside like the now-useless winter garment that it is. I did not look back. I marched into the gloriously rare sunshine and took a long walk, sans hat. I didn't freeze to death. I didn't regret it. I didn't miss my hat.

My spirit breathed. My soul was on fire. My head was hatless.

And my hair, given time and lots of tender loving care, may one day start to look less like the hair of a dirty man-Viking who has just taken off his helmet after battle and is combing his locks into a early-thirteenth-century-fashionable mullet for his reunion with his equally dirty woman-Viking lover. We'll see.

All in all, however, it's been a glorious day. A day to be celebrated. Life without a hat, I breathed. This. This is life. Today I am free.