Reflections for 2012

2012. A new year. I haven't posted on my blog since August and I don't really have any excuses. I submitted my dissertation mid-September and am officially a master in the Anthropology of Food. Yay!  Incredible knowledge gained, experiences had and friends made?  Check.  Incredible sense of accomplishment, satisfaction and inspiration?  Check!  So what now? After transitioning into student life and life in a new country in 2010 and 2011, I am now trying to figure out the next transition.

What happens now? Most of my fellow students have returned to their home countries. My coveted cache of London library cards are expired. I now pay council taxes.  I am no longer a student.  So what am I?  I'm still in London. I am currently working at a posh food shop, gaining experience in retail and artisan food products, which has proven educational and delicious. I'm also in the process of applying for a work visa to enable me to stay in the UK beyond my student visa while Ryan finishes his PhD. Both the job search and work visa processes have been tests of patience and fortitude.  Job applications and the UK Border agency's paperwork have left me feeling very small in a big world of bureaucracy and shrinking economic opportunities.  So I have felt very uninspired the last several months, feeling unsure about how everything will fit together.

Life slows down when the path ahead is unknown.  But this allows time to think, time to reflect--something we unknowlingly need to do in order to go forward.  I volunteer once a week on the heart ward of a children's hospital in London. This past week I went into the ward itching to get down to work and ready to have a profound experience.  I paced up and down the ward several times.  Many patients had been discharged, some were getting ready to go for some scans, others were sleeping.  "Ugh," I thought, "it's slow, they don't need me, I should just go home."  But then I reminded myself to not be so impatient.  So what did I do?  I went to the staff room and made a nice cup of tea and waited.  The most important lesson I've learned in England is that there's nothing a cuppa doesn't sort out.  Waiting for the kettle to boil, waiting for the teabag to steep, the conversations shared over the hot beverage, all enables you to slow down.  And by the time my tea cup was empty, several needs on the ward became apparent, little things--helping with lunch service, sitting with some new admits--but things that were needed.

As the end of my day on the ward neared, I had a little girl waiting for a heart transplant sit on my lap while the nurses changed her sheets.  We pretended to eat cookies and fed her dollies cookies.  Her blue eyes melted me.  En route to work afterwards, I walked slow, even though I was running late.  I wasn't in a hurry.  In sharing pretend cookies with dollies, I was reminded that I needn't be in such a rush to accomplish things or to know what the next step leads to.  As I go forward in pursuit of a career dedicated to food, I cannot lose focus of what has inspired me to pursue food: the everyday.  It is the everyday meaning of food, the centrality of food in our lives that reminds us that life is about the living and not the planning.  Life is about the meaningful relationships and connections we make in the process of being in this messy, unsure and bureaucratic world.  Food, even pretend cookies, is often the mode of that connection.  What 2012 will hold remains unknown to me but I look forward to the meaningful exchanges and meals that will punctuate the transitional and unknown spaces.  And the many cuppas to boot!  Cheers!

Enjoying haggis in Edinburgh