Adjusting to London – Giving up, somehow. Chapter 7

Posted on 27 April 2012 by admin

The back garden.

Today I officially decided to give up. I saw a neighbour walking through the back garden, a lady who I have met once. She was very nice and friendly, but in a kind of welcome-to-the-building-I-have-to-be-friendly kind of a way. Not a yay-we’re-neighbours-and-so-maybe-lifelong-friends kind of a way. And that was more than a month ago. Since then I have not talked to her again.

I think we may actually be on some subconscious level avoiding each other, and so today when I saw her walking through the back garden, I gave up. My neighbours will not be my friends. This is, to be completely honest, mainly my fault. When I moved in, I had ideas about baking cookies for everyone in the building, planning some kind of a building barbecue when the weather gets better, knocking on everyone’s door just to introduce myself.

Turns out I’m just too shy. Maybe they are too. Two of the families in my building have small children. When I met them, I did offer to babysit if they ever need it. They looked surprised and thanked me. I know that if I really want them to take me up on it (which honestly would be rather nice), I’d have to repeat the offer in about a dozen different ways and then find that moment when they feel frazzled and jump in. That sounds so exhausting. The babysitting doesn’t sound the exhausting, the effort of getting to know them well enough and earn their trust so that I might babysit is what sounds exhausting. So I’m giving up.

One thing I am realising is that this ease by which I can give up has nothing to do with race, ethnicity or nationality. You may be thinking, of course it’s not a race issue! But I admit I kind of thought it was. After all, so many people come from such friendly welcoming parts of the world and, when they arrive in London, seem to become so contained! Quiet, shy, without many friends or efforts to make friends. I figured it was something we learned here.

But last week I met some people who live in neighbouring buildings through the resident’s association. They were possibly the most White English people I’d encountered since I moved to London! They were also very nice and friendly and seemed devoted to building community. They even invited me to join them for a potluck dinner, and they’d only just met me. Unfortunately, I already had plans, but that is what real community should do, isn’t it?

So why is it that us immigrants, us outsiders in this culture, are so shy and homebound? I thought we were taking on the culture of the Londoner, but the natives seem to be the friendly ones. Why do we seem to lose all of our skills in hospitality, friendliness, community, when we move here? For me, personally, I think it has to do with the circumstances under which I came here – I came here at a place of burn-out and needing to rest, which has entailed a degree of introversion. But I don’t want to learn bad habits.

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  • Anonymous

    An acquaintance of mine asked me to have lunch with her a few weeks ago. She said she thought i could help her and that, from the outside looking in, my life looked like something a little more along the lines of what she wanted. We had a nice time together. She’s introverted; I’m extroverted. I asked her if she were lonely or sad, and she said, “No,” so I wanted to know…what’s to fix? And I guess my point is that–if you were particularly lonely or sad–you wouldn’t give up. It seems to me that–when you do a risk/benefit analysis–friendship w/ your neighbors isn’t worth the investment. I think that’s ok. There are other ways to make a difference, reach out, etc. (like w/ blogging). Sometimes, I think we beat ourselves up b/c we think we should be different than we are. Maybe we should just accept and love on ourselves. I know I would be happier if I could be thoroughly at peace with my big, hot hoopty, piggy messiness.

    • http://www.katiworonka.com Kati Woronka

      Hmmm… a few thoughts. First, if my neighbours were to do it, I’d be thrilled and happily go along. But this is London. They’re not going to reach out. If anyone will, I feel like it needs to be me. Second, as a single introvert in a city where I’ve never lived before, if I don’t get myself out there, I am truly a hermit. While this is enjoyable for a season, I don’t believe it’s healthy or Godly in the long run. It’s not that I don’t enjoy and love being an introvert – I love the alone time, I love writing and reading and long walks by myself – I just hate that reaching out intimidates me. I want to have a few good friends/relationships but I’ll never find those if I don’t get out there and try… does that make sense?

  • http://beinghappygirl.blogspot.com happygirl

    I’ve got nothing for you. I’m a very introverted person. When asked what I could wish for, if I could wish for anything, it would be to be invisible. I grew up in a city and I learned how to avoid people and unwanted conversation. I would guess, and I’d probably be wrong, but if someone approached me and wanted to babysit my children, I’d be nervous. I’d be more likely to engage someone who needed my help. For example, a cup of sugar or and egg, then I’d bring a plate of cookies when I wanted to thank them. I could be wrong about all this. I don’t make friends easily.

    • http://www.katiworonka.com Kati Woronka

      Yeah, you’re right about the helping thing, but it’s sad when you don’t really need help but you see other people who do, you know? I just wish we could simply be authentic. Unfortunately society has all these rules we need to deal with.