HAMEDY: Sweet dreams

This is the first of Saba’s columns from London, where she is studying for the Spring 2012 semester. Reading not your thing? Check out a photo slideshow of her London adventures on freepblog.wordpress.com under “Abroad.”

On my way home one night, my friends and I were talking loudly – a clear indication that we are American – and caught the attention of a slightly intoxicated stranger.“Are you all American?” the guy asked, slightly grinning.

“How can you tell?” I replied – you know, trying to be witty like the British are.
“Your accents are obvious . . . So are you all having fun?”We laughed.
“Yes!” We replied in unison.
“You must be living the dream,” he replied.

Before I could muster up a response, we had to hop on the night bus back to the dorms. But I kept thinking about how maybe this drunk British man had a point: I am living the dream.

It’s funny because I’d never thought of going abroad as “the dream.” Perhaps naively, I associated the dream with the American stereotype of migrating to the U.S. and making something of yourself. Gotta love the USA.

But being in London makes me realize “the dream” isn’t limited to America’s shores. “The dream” is being able to travel and live somewhere new. “The dream” is going out of your comfort zone and being the forward American girl at a club and asking for someone’s number. “The dream” is not letting awkwardness or bad days stand in the way of the experience of a lifetime. “The dream” is about making your dreams feasible.

Okay so, I realize I sound like Lizzie McGuire when she was in Rome with Gordo, when they fell in love and she sang that song “What Dreams Are Made Of” . . . but what I’m trying to say is everything in London can be likened to something that makes you feel like you are dreaming. Whether its reminders of Boston and America, or scenes from books and movies, reality becomes a hodgepodge of images from past, present and fiction.

Portobello Road is like the Yellow Brick Road – you follow it and find antiques and treasures, like broaches from the 1920s, that make you feel like you’re in an old British home. The London Eye is like the Citgo sign – always guiding a young traveler home. Camden Market is like the streets of Downtown Los Angeles – home to hipsters and a market with all sorts of knickknacks.  Even riding the Tube makes me feel like I am in Boston, New York, D.C. or on my way to Narnia.

While the “honeymoon” phase of abroad – orientation, first week of classes, start of semester social events – is over, there is never a mundane routine here.  One day I’ll go to the Natural History Museum after class; another day I’ll lounge in my kitchen with my flat mates because I’m too tired to leave.  I always knew going abroad was something I wanted to do, but it really took that random guy in the street telling me that my life is a dream for me to realize it was the right decision.

Every dreamer knows that one must dream big in order to live to the fullest.  But sometimes living in a dream can be problematic because you lose sight of reality.
Living in this dreamland called “study abroad” is forgetting that money is not something that can be thrown around. In the last three weeks, I’ve spent far too much. It’s actually quite ridiculous. You forget the phone bill, groceries and Tube pass per month really do add up – not to mention the excursions and social programs through Boston University London or leisurely weekend trips to Paris.

Likewise, dreams don’t usually include coursework. But part of being abroad means getting an education. I can’t say I’m complaining because I actually really enjoy my classes – my political science class just took a three-day field trip to Brussels (land of politics, waffles and chocolate – see The FreeP blog for photos!) and my journalism class discusses UK newspapers and Murdoch-style journalism.
And of course gaining weight doesn’t exist in dreamland either. Unfortunately, reality makes jeans tighter. I also joined the gym . . . which I’ve gone to a grand total of ONCE.

But alas – Who knows what dreams may come? As my mom said in an email to me the other day, “keep your dreams bigger than life itself.”

I just hope I don’t wake up from this dream too soon.

Cheers!