Living in L'Auberge espagnole

A couple of years ago I saw a French film called L'Auberge espagnole ("The Spanish Apartment") about a bunch of Europeans who come together in a Spanish hostel, each representing their various countries and cultures. Maybe you've seen it; I guess it's kind of a cult classic now and they've made a few sequels. But anyway, the other night I went to a bar with people from my program -- from the U.S., England, Italy, Germany, Australia, Croatia, Norway, Romania, Denmark, England, Thailand, Canada, Wales -- and we've subsequently hung out over lunch, coffee, drinks and in other casual settings. 

In many ways, we have a lot in common. We're roughly all from the same generation. Out of over 120 master's degree programs at LSE, there are 37 of us with a particular interest in how the government and the media interact. There's a news anchor from Canada, and a girl who was George W. Bush's daily agenda scheduler. One guy from Thailand wrote for a Asian financial publication. Yet culture is the ever-present elephant in the room as we navigate the social and political landscape with conversation and get to know one another. We may all know who Sarah Palin is, yet when an American from Ohio asks where the trash can is, he is met with blank stares. "Oh, the rubbish bin?" an English girl in our program replied. And that's just within the English language. The list goes on and on. (Note to Americans: "Fanny pack" is not something you should say in England.) 

I contrast the experience to last summer when I came to Europe with UCLA Travel Study. I made many close friends that I still keep in touch with. But I think we were drawn together more out of our common backgrounds in a foreign country (To continue the film analogy, see Lost in Translation). Although it is sometimes awkward or even a point of contention, I can already tell that cultural diversity is going to be one of the most rewarding things about my time at LSE. I scarcely even like to use the phrase because of its frequent use during my time at UCLA, where it was often surrounding by debate and discussion about how to "increase diversity." Although I love UCLA and often think about it with nostalgia, LSE makes UCLA's diversity seem almost insignificant. My whole life I attended public schools in California in the United States of America. I traveled and met a lot of people, but was still always somewhat in my own little bubble.

At UCLA, I felt like I'd finally found a place where I belonged. At LSE, I'm having to reassess who I am in a much broader, global context. 

I'll keep you updated on the transformation.