Going Back in Time to Move Forward...

It was the Fall of 1989. I had entered the International Study Program through Syracuse University and my studies took me to the heart of London. I lived there for five months and it was a life-changing experience. I could write a book about my time there. Maybe I will.

It was the first day of my Master’s of Social Work Internship. We didn’t have Mapquest in 1989 so all I had to go on was the iconic map book “A-Z : London’s Street Atlas.” It was a little paperback book, thick on pages, featuring nearly 4000 maps of London’s streets, zones, hospitals, schools, and more.

My heart was beating with excitement to integrate myself into the UK ways, especially at the infamous and historic hospital. To get there I could take the “tube” (London’s subway), catch a double-decker bus, or walk the six miles from my rental at Notting Hill. I would eventually do all of the above in the months to come and I particularly came to enjoy the long walk home amidst the crowds of people, traffic, and shopfronts.

I was warned however, by some of the locals who quickly came to realize how friendly I am. “Don’t be conversing with people on the streets of this town,” they warned, “…and definitely don’t smile at them! You’re just asking for trouble.” Seems I was just a small-town girl in the big city and I had a lot to learn and understand.

It was the morning rush hour and as I emerged from the Underground Station I totally lost my sense of direction. I simply could not get my head around my location in relation to where I needed to be. At one point a well-dressed man in an overcoat was passing me from behind. I turned towards him as he passed and asked, “Excuse me Sir, could you point me in the direction of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital?” As I spoke he didn’t miss a step; he just kept walking on without acknowledgement.

I held back any judgment. Maybe he’s deaf or something. Maybe it’s true what they say about not interacting with others. I resumed looking at my “A-Z”. Turns out his mind must’ve been somewhere else, for when he was about twenty feet ahead of me he turned around and said, “I’m sorry Love, do you need some help?” He then retraced his steps back to me and I asked him if he could please point me in the direction of the hospital.

“I will not!” he said cheerfully. “I’ll take you there! It’s not far at all.” We had a pleasant ten-minute walk on winding streets, passing by old-fashioned shops, vendors, and the beautiful St. Paul’s Cathedral where Charles and Diana had been married.

Soon we were at the entrance to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. The mossy sign over the door reads: “Established in the Year 1123”. Wow, it was almost 900 years old! Older than St. Elsewhere! 📺 Older than my country!

When I thanked the man for escorting me to “Bart’s,” he gracefully took off his bowler hat, placed it over his heart, and gave a little bow. “It was my pleasure! Good luck to you in your endeavors!”

I would come to have many experiences with the Londoners. And yes, many many smiles! This adventure was just Day #1 and it was off to a “Love-ly” start.