On Being Me and Being abroad

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Ok, so being black in Britain is no big deal. Well, it’s not as jarring experience as being in some other places.

But, I’ just not loving every moment. Maybe it’s me, maybe I am a pessimist, maybe I am too hard to please.

But I think being here has made me realize all the more that people are just people. If you want the exotic experience then don’t anywhere for more than 3 weeks. After that the appeal wears off, you realize that people over here or over there sweat, smell, burp, fart etc. just like people back home do.

You start jonesing for Chinese, Indian, Thai, Dominoes and all the other goodies that come with living in a “cultural melting pot” like the US of A.

You want to go into your supermarket and buy your products and not trying to find equivalents.

Monuments become the passe touristy thing that you no longer go gaga over.

Case in point, I used to pass the Mezquita on my way school each day for 3 1/2 months and for the first few weeks it was like wow! but after a while it became jsut another landmark– “Hey, meet me by la Mezquita”).

Maybe its this gloomy weather, but eh, being on this spot in the world, is at a very basic level living on that spot on the globe. I’m just more used to one than I am the other.

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