Londonward

I don’t even know what home is anymore. What I do know is that at certain times of the day I get these pangs of longing - for people, places, sounds and feelings. I guess I would call myself homesick.

A few days ago I realized that neither one of my parents has yet visited London while I’m here, not even for a quick weekend break or anything. I’m sure that they’ve got their lives full and I haven’t lived at home for years anyway. Still, it would be cool to listen to their experiences of the city while actually here. We could talk about what used to be and what is now, and see the things that haven’t changed.

On the other hand, maybe I’m missing my family and what used to be because life right now is taking everything I have. I’m at University from morning to night, whether working or studying. It’s cool, I like it, but it also makes me think back to when things were really easy.

It’s strange how I actually miss the biting cold somehow. I miss the real blackness of winter nights. I even miss some of the music that is unmistakably Finnish - and that I couldn’t bear while there. Now that’s worrying.

I went to get a National Insurance number. I called the office to book my appointment way back in mid-September. I had to forego attending the launch event of the GEO-4 because of it, so I was a little disappointed. There was no way I could reschedule the interview to get the number, though - a friend of mine had called them to get an NI number because he just got a job, and was told to come in December.

I arrived a god half an hour early, which evidently was a good thing. After having been shown where to go by a loitering security guard, I was escorted through some corridors to an office with many desks. The Jobcentre representative, yusuf, sat me down and asked me for all my documentation. It was a good thing I’d taken everything, including all my correspondence on the matter. After he ran through what I had brought, he began filling out a multi-page form with a strange, calligraphy-style handwriting.

I watched as he went through my previous addresses, the dates I’d come into and left the UK as well as the details of my job. Any answers I gave to his questions were met with an approving high-pitched chuckle. At one point, he looked up from his writing, asking me what I study - was it IT?

“No, Environmental Policy,” I said, “I keep that and work separate for now.”

“Oh, I bet you do!” he chuckled and resumed his writing until he remarked, “Environment… very busy field these days.”

I nodded approvingly, and he continued, “The LSE must be good with that, they’re the best in Development Studies.”

“I suppose so,” I replied.

When we were done, he asked me to take a seat in the waiting area until he could get my documents checked and the application confirmed by another person. As I did so, I came to sit across from a man who was speaking hurriedly into a phone in a hushed voice. “Wish me luck,” he said. “Give me some luck” he breathed into the phone as he finished. Just as he put the phone down, a big English guy, another JobCentre employee came up to him and said, “Sir, let’s go. Follow me, we’ll have a nice little chat.” The words on paper were nice enough, but his tone wasn’t. They went out of the door, probably into a more private room.

Thankfully, I just had to sit and wait until I was called to another big waiting room and was given my documents. Now all that remains is to wait - 6 weeks, apparently. I may have to bear the price of getting paid and having to pay extra tax due to a lack of a NI number. After all, I’ll be able to claim it back in a year. Hopefully.

Lectures so far have been really good. Everything is relevant and interesting, be it issues in environmental law, the socially constructed nature of science in society or the use of economic principles in informing environmental policy issues. Things I thought complicated and contrived (such as economics) start to make perfect sense in the right context. The lecturers actually seem to give a damn, which is great. Last year it seemed like they were winging it a bit, forcing themselves through the motions. I felt like very little of what we were doing was directly relevant to our course. Maybe it prepared a foundation for us, but I still felt rather out of place then.

There is a complete change of attitude among the academic staff teaching us. By and large, it’s the same people, but now they both give their own opinions on the material (immensely entertaining) and show their personal dedication and itnerests in what they teach. Even the monolithic reading lists are softened with a “Yes, I know it’s really long. It’s meant to cover the whole breadth of the topic - it would take you years to read all of it. Read the relevant bits and those you are interested in for the exams.” You can see why I much prefer the second year to the first. I am really looking forward to the rest of the year, though with the caveat that I still haven’t begun the essay/class presentation grind yet.

Work is going swimmingly as well. I like the people I work with, and though I’m still confused about what I should be saying half the time I think I’m doing all right. I’m doing 10-hour days (lectures, reading, working, society stuff) most of the week, which means I’m pretty worn out by the time I get home. It’s been fine this far though.

I’ve never been one for musical theatre. When people at my middle and high school were raving about the newest school production or a great show they’d been to in New York or in London, I couldn’t get past the overacting, melodrama and cheesy melodies. To me, musicals were camp in a wrong way - in a way that I couldn’t see as funny. I always thought the mundane, down-to-earth musicals like Rent (that people at the time were head over heels for) were really dumb, and couldn’t really see why people wanted to see the “classic” productions of Andrew Lloyd Webber over and over and over again.

I guess I’ve been converted. Thanks to the philanthropy of a friend with a well-paying IT job, I got a chance to go see a production of Wicked at the Apollo Victoria Theatre. Despite the really cliché lyrics and themes, the story was captivating, and the semi-obscured seats didn’t really bother me. The story itself is captivating and engaging, ranging from funny to sentimental. Of course, it’s absolutely over the top and camp to the extreme, but for the first time I was able to see past that and enjoy the show for what it was. If I’d have to gripe about something, I’d say the musical score (especially the theme song) sounded a bit like CNN weather report music, with keyboard-driven chimes overlaying soft percussion and other instruments. At no point was the score as grippingly bombastic as I’d hoped it to be, considering the lavish detail in both set and costume design.

Despite the free trip to the theatre, this weekend has proved to be a terrible money sink. I’ve had fun though, so I suppose it’s been worth it.