I’ve learned to not watch television constantly as I did back in the States while being here in Oxford. This leaves me with a different kind of free time that I’ve grown to appreciate – the kind of “chilling” that isn’t in a pub or at parties – that brand of just “being” and using my time to be creative, write, and help out around the house. It is a good feeling to simply sit outside, take in the day, and not have to say much. When I do catch television here, I am more distracted than without it. This is not to say that the television shows and news here are not up to par; I just require far less of that passive kind of “zoning out” that I experienced back in Los Angeles. I don’t need to be distracted to enjoy myself here – perhaps it’s because of my sense of belonging as well as others’ more slow-paced and interactive nature. It’s quite liberating to be able to simply get things done that I might have avoided back in the States. Part of the freedom and casual lifestyle is due to the fact that I don’t have to drive places – I can take a bus wherever I want to go, or I can walk – nothing is too far away, relatively speaking.
The home which I am currently staying in is occupied by various students and people from around the world and locally who merely seek out a room and are content to live communally. This communal lifestyle is something I’ve always wanted to experience – where people are mindful of others, and relaxed about who has to do whatever task is at-hand, or who hasn’t done something. When a mess lingers somewhere, I just take on the task, as do others, and there is no finger-pointing and badgering. When an item is used up in the refrigerator or otherwise, we just go to the local market and fill it back up; there is an unspoken obligation to top up when supplies get low.
The only time I saw people at this house get perturbed was when one person took advantage of this system and took without replacing or asking. The other day, Sib came down to eat dinner – fish sticks and potato wedges that he had bought – and when he pulled the fish stick package out of the freezer, there were only two pieces left. He was not happy to be left with a mere two small fish sticks for dinner. There has to be group cohesion and personal responsibility in these kinds of settings because one person can upset the entire flow of life. Needless to say, the proverbial “one person” left, and things are very quiet now. I love this place – it feels like home to me and I hope that I can come back if I am able to get into Oxford Brookes University. But that’s neither here nor there at the moment; all I have is today, and today is a great day, like all the preceding days here.
I look forward to the afternoons and spend my days writing and reading mostly. Sometimes, and to a much less degree than before, I go to The Corridor and catch up with friends and chill out over a few drinks and whatnot. There is no rush to be places, to avoid traffic, to leave, etc. People stay until they’re ready to go, and sometimes, “ready to go” is when the establishment closes down. Protocol is different here – people are far more independent in general, and that is refreshing. They seem to be more pragmatic and self-sufficient, and that too is liberating.
Other than young college-aged students who often go to pubs or bars for the sole purpose of getting drunk, the older crowd all mingle and look after one another while getting their fair share of alcohol, albeit at a slower pace. I have my friends here – friends whom I have the great fortune of meeting, and we recognize and talk to one another at these places. Further, because it is a small community, there is little to no anonymity (a wonderful change for me) which for me was the norm back in the States due to the great distances that need to be traveled, as well as the hurry-up-and-serve-the-customer-and-get-the-next-party-in ethos of many food and bar establishments. I’m sure there is the type of cohesion I write about of Oxford in smaller towns or areas throughout the States. However, I live in Los Angeles, which is like spilled milk over the entire Southern California region wherein nothing is nearby, and people keep to themselves locally.
To be fair, when I’m in school taking classes, I rarely practice “chilling” because studying becomes the central focus of life for however long my classes last (usually 15 weeks). I treat school as if it was a job, and that means that there is a minimum eight hours that have to go into the combined time of the classes and studying afterwards. Furthermore, the eight-hour rule is just a rough guideline because there’s always homework, papers are become due, notes must be copied and organized, and tests are inevitable. Generally, that’s about 12 hours of school a day, minimally, once everything has been completed.
I chose the path of not being a “tourist” who merely stopped over for a few months to study. I ended up getting my four A’s and it didn’t have to be so difficult. My schoolwork got done when I was in school, and will continue to get done when I return. But I’ve realized that it doesn’t have to get done in a vacuum – there is room to sit down and enjoy an evening. This will change, of course, when I return because I simply can’t be bothered to transport myself here and there and everywhere – driving is time, and time is for studying. I hate it, but that’s just the way it is. Even if I lived here whilst in school, I wouldn’t have the same freedom as I do now. However, I would have a choice to meet up with friends from time-to-time and could look forward to finishing a day’s worth of studying whenever possible and thereby rewarding myself with a drink or two without having to drive home.
This is what I’ll take back with me when I return to the States: the knowledge that communities do indeed exist in certain places and the sense that there is the hope that I can return to this place and be remembered. Because of the proximity of places and things in Oxford, I’ve learned to take my schoolwork as seriously as before, while at the same time finding the ability to put my books away once the tasks are done and thereby allowing myself to relax. There will never be another Oxford, and this time I’ve spent here cannot ever be replicated.
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