London: Community and Isolation

Walking through London has got me pondering rather deeply to the extent where I feel like I might be able to create a little series on my thoughts. My experience here has shown both the vitality and the cruelty of London, as well as how tourists get London so wrong. Indeed, how I until I moved here has such a warped perspective of London life. You hear of people longing to move to London to feel part of something, or to get a glittering job and meet creative people and live to the full. My experience has been somewhat redemptive of that fascination, but mostly telling the opposite. As much you walk the streets of London on a Friday evening and see mini communities of workers, you also see lonely wanderers. As much as in my work I have met creative people from painters and poets, I have outside of work also felt pangs of isolation and felt the burden of others' isolation who I have met on the estates or on visits.

So many people forget that London off the tourist trail is real life. It is messy, complicated, grievous, sad. I have met so many people in my work on an East London estate who, in spite of the supposed community that estates bring, know few people aside from immediate family, and spend their days alone. It's why the place I work at exists: to bring opportunity for community to these people who would otherwise be isolated and often without hope or even small comforts. I recently met a lady who is grossly overweight, yet has a neighbour who drives her around. This neighbour often comes into the cafe, and I marvelled at the small community and links of people that we has discovered upon in an 8 floor block of an estate. Yet, upon asking her whether she knew anyone else in her area, she knew of none. This is not a problem unique to central London, as I am well aware, but I suppose I wanted to quash those myths of the bright lights of London. Those general images of people meeting and becoming friends in the city of opportunity are catering to a small market of people who seek out those friendships in the nightlife, not the old-time Eastenders (not the telly programme) or the gap year students living off donations (ahem).

Which brings me to me. The inspiration for this post was mainly from my own impressions as I walked round London with not a soul beside me, over Tower Bridge with only hostile stares greeting me (even from the lady on her pink scooter who I smile at every morning!), and my weekends being spent inside my home because aside from those I had met at work, there was no one to meet with and experience London with that would quell the feeling of crippling isolation. For the first few weeks, my introverted self who thrived on studying and lack of human interaction aside from that through a laptop screen (and was completely comfortable with that!) was loving it. Nearly two months in, and I have had my fill. I find myself craving the community that school used to bring which had such an extended circle of people and friends of friends which I had readily available on weekdays. This is replaced by my work, but with everyone being at least six years older than me, with a degree or two, former jobs and massive life experiences under their belt, it seems a bit odd to treat them as I would those at school, who were in the same position as me. Where I work, I am very much the underling - this is entirely my own perception of the situation, and not how they make me feel. In fact, they have been nothing but welcoming, a very picture of the friendliness that helps the community cafe thrive.

This is the cafe where I am working. It has an open plan full of light, space, books, creativity. The sofas are large so that big groups of people, or small groups of people who came alone but started a conversation, can meet, build friendships, and build community.

It is the weekends that solidify these feelings of isolation. My housemates (of which there are six plus a family of four, but that is for a later blog post) essentially replace the 'family' side of my routine life for the past seven years: they are the people I come home to and cook with and watch telly with. But on weekends, they are out visiting their friends from former gap years or uni or school. I am the only one that has come straight from school with the majority of their friends scattered over the country, which means that I have spent many a Saturday quite alone, either walking London's streets, doing the tesco shop and laundry, reading, scrapbooking... but not exactly thriving off all the things that London has for me to do. I've made a huge list of things I wish to do while I have London on my doorstep, but no one to do it with. People ask me with enthusiasm to tell them all about my extravagant and wonderful life in London, but I have few stories that they would be interested in. I spend my evenings watching Bake Off (except that it has finished now... boo), not clubbing or at gallery openings or watching plays or taking part in a class (far too tired for that!).

This is the outside of the house where I am living. For stalking purposes, my room is the third window up on the left. Two two windows barely in view at the bottom are windows to our underground kitchen and lounge area, which is really where community gathers in our house. Yet there are many times when no one is there, and because we have a knocking and locking policy for our rooms, retreating to your room is isolating yourself from possible interaction. Indeed, because of all the crazy schedules of the six other girls I am living with, it can be days where I don't see some of them!

Perhaps this has been a little personal (oops!) and not as well communicated or as thoughtfully done as I would have liked, and makes me sounds rather sad and lonely. No, I a thoroughly enjoying my experience: I just crave that community in a big city was easier to find, or that maybe I would bother to look a bit harder for it.

-Antonia

P.S. Perhaps I will do a follow up on my thoughts around Christmas - this always seems to be a big time of community and we have some events at the cafe which I am really excited to organise and attend, as well as some house outings ice skating that I hope to arrange! Maybe as the year goes by, I will grow accustomed to it, or will make some new friends through church/fellowship groups/ a gym/ a class. I am not telling everybody that they are disillusioned just yet!