My Virginia Woolf Pilgrimage and Belgium

Hey everyone,

So, two things to update you on!

1. What my professors referred to as our "pilgrimage": my trip to Rodmell and Monk's house, Virginia Woolf's country home, as well as to the River Ouse, the river where Woolf drowned herself. An uplifting reason for our journey? Definitely not. A little creepy? Definitely yes. However, I should add, as I hope my photos reflect, that Sussex, the area of England where Rodmell is located, is beautiful. It reminded my fellow Californian classmate and I of the area around Gilroy, with hills surrounding golden fields. It was wonderful to get out of the city and into the countryside. When we got to the river, we read Woolf's last letters and took a moment to think about what an influential writer she really was. After our fairly long hike back to Rodmell, the town, we had our sack lunches in the tiny town hall there. One of my professors had brought tea and biscuits, and two of my adorably British classmates were kind enough to make everyone tea - it was delightfully English and my American friends and I got quite a kick out of it. Overall, it was a great way to spend the day, and the bus ride there was just as beautiful as the town itself. I got to pay homage to a writer who has certainly changed my views on literature and writing itself, and enjoyed a lovely day in the countryside.

2. Belgium - Brussels and Bruges! So I got to Brussels at the rather early hour of 9 a.m., after taking a Eurostar train through the Chunnel that left at 5:57 a.m. I dragged poor Roger, whose train didn't leave until noon that day, to St. Pancras at 4:30 a.m. and am forever indebted to him for running with me, backpacks and all, to make our bus. Suffice it to say, I was a little sleepy, and slept on the train ride there. Once I got there I quickly discovered just how small the city is, as I was able to walk around the whole city very easily. Katie got in a little later, and after dropping our stuff off at our hostel (which was VERY nice! very clean, nice staff, good roommates - an all-around great hostel experience), we explored the city. We saw the Cathedral, the Grand Place (when I say Place think French/Belgian version of Piazza), had chocolate (I will never be able to truly enjoy Hershey's EVER again), found some absolutely breathtaking architecture, and enjoyed the flowers that were all over the city. After a late dinner and some reading, we called it a night. The next day we got up, enjoyed breakfast at the hostel (it came with the price of the rooms, hooray free food!), and grabbed a train to Bruges, otherwise known as the Venice of the North thanks to the canals throughout the city. The train ride was gorgeous - the Belgian countryside doesn't even look real it's so green. Bruges itself was also very small, so after checking out the Madonna and Child, some churches and generally cool architecture, we hit the Chocolate Museum. This was arguably my favorite activity of the weekend - it was absolutely hysterical, as were the English translations. Plus we got to watch hazelnut-filled chocolates made, and then eat them, and really, who can say no to that. After delicious coffee and chocolates, we headed back to Brussels for another relaxing evening. Overall, a delightful weekend!

Pardon me while I wax philosophical here for a moment. On my various train rides this weekend, I devoured several books (including Woolf's last... surprisingly saddening), and had a lot of time to reflect on my experiences in foreign countries thus far. While I always claim that I am sympathetic to immigrants in the United States, and while I was sympathetic to as much of an extent as possible, I have a new, much deeper appreciation for just how much they go through to "find the American dream". It baffles me to think that here I am, in England most of the time, where I speak the language, am generally familiar with the norms of the country, and am fortunate enough to easily blunder my way in and out of customs and immigration with my American passport, and yet I still am overwhelmed by at least one thing each day. I cannot even begin to imagine how emotionally and even physically taxing it must be for immigrants in the United States, who often don't speak the language, often have no concept of the social, political, or economic norms in America, who often have no friends to ask for help, and who are surrounded by a country that is constantly trying to keep them out and then even push them out, to the extent that we literally have fences separating our country from Mexico (and might I add here that our economy would crumble if we were actually successful at keeping immigrants out). While getting kicked off a train or yelled at in a grocery store for making, what must seem to the British to be stupid, mistakes can ruin my day for a few hours, imagine the plethora of day-ruining events that happen to immigrants in the United States every day. They just want to live a happy, healthy life - and isn't that what we all want? Thanks for bearing with me - suffice it to say that when I return, I will have so much more patience and empathy for anyone unfamiliar with American customs.

In upcoming news, next up, Wales adventure weekend! I hope you are all happy, healthy, safe, and enjoying the coming of spring! (The arrival of sunshine in London has improved my day-to-day life beyond measure!)

Peace and love,
Jordyn