LONDON — When choosing London as my study abroad destination, I, being a typical American, attributed the typical stereotypes to this city I had never actually seen. I accepted I was going to a city synonymous with high prices, rain and Harry Potter. But having been here three weeks, I’ve found my premature assumptions to be way off base.

First of all, yes, things here are expensive, but they are no pricier than New York City standards. That diamond-studded gold ‘Syracuse’ chain I obsessed over in New York would do no more of a dent on my wallet here. Second, it has only rained twice since I’ve been here; the umbrella that was a ‘London necessity,’ according to my mother, is still hanging on the hook by my door, unused. Lastly, and quite tragically, I have not yet seen a trace of Harry Potter or Hogwarts or any of that nonsense.

What I’ve found in lieu of these false assumptions is a London unlike anything written by Dickens or portrayed in the film ‘Notting Hill.’ This is a city that contradicts its stereotypes and serves you an awesome pint while doing so.

First assumption disproved: All British people hate Americans. During a night out at one of London’s countless pubs, I met a student named Tom Ford, who was dressed quite convincingly as the Mad Hatter. After clearing up why he was dressed that way, we got to talking about America. I asked why most British people hate Americans, to which he responded, (insert British accent here), ‘We don’t hate Americans. We’re simply envious. America is like our little cousin that suddenly became taller and more popular than us. No one likes that.'(End British accent.)

Still, I remained doubtful. One drunken British man in a pub dressed as the Mad Hatter barely makes for a convincing source. However, a few days later while in a quiet suburban town, a local man overheard my American accent and yelled across the room, ‘You’re American?! I love Americans!’ before delving into a long-winded speech explaining his exclamation. During this speech, I learned it was his birthday and he was getting a head start on celebrating by having a pint race with his buddies. Well, 2-0 for America. I’m convinced, British people generally like Americans. Or at least the drunken ones do.

Second assumption disproved: Everyone in England drinks tea. As a dedicated Starbucks supporter, I’m glad to say the streets of London are just as speckled with this overpriced coffee shop as any American city, and the inhabitants of London are equally as fervent coffee consumers as Americans.

Sure, the classic tradition of teatime and a ‘proper British tea’ persists in the form of Harrods and several other tea-oriented shops. But for the most part, this tradition has been faded out in favor of coffee. When asking the professor of one of my three-hour long afternoon classes if we could have a break for teatime, I was met with a judging stare and informed that ‘England’s love for tea does not usurp education.’ Hey, at least I tried.

Third assumption disproved: All Brits are cheeky. My findings have actually been quite the contrary. In a city where common practice includes visiting pubs on lunch breaks and the typical weather is never hot enough to be uncomfortable, it’s no surprise the local inhabitants are actually quite amiable.

Except the one occasion in which one of my flatmates was purposely given wrong directions (‘Yeah, it’s just two blocks in that direction. I know the numbers go the other way, but I’m sure if you walk in this direction you’ll find what you’re looking for.’), people have gone out of their way to be nice.

Though I haven’t seen Harry Potter, I have met a Mad Hatter. And however disappointed I am that I won’t escape class time in favor of tea, I’ve learned the Londoner’s love of a pint at the corner pub. Despite the fact that I haven’t seen the unending days of rain supposedly typical of this city, I’ve found the temperament of its inhabitants is as docile and laid-back as any senior citizen soaking up the Florida sunshine in his senile serenity.

Over the next three months, I’ll be happy to see these contradictions to my preconceived assumptions pile up, because each offers a better alternative. Except for the Harry Potter thing. I’m holding out for that one.

Jessica Smith is a junior information management and technology and television, radio and film major. Her column appears weekly, and she can be reached at jlsmit22@syr.edu.

 

 

Published on September 12, 2010 at 12:00 pm