Britain is by no means a cheap country to live in. This is a fact established by the experiences and constant complaints of so many expatriates calling the city their temporary home. But the existing prices, just as death and taxes, are something that people simply have to accept as constants, barring any sort of sudden economic meltdown that cannot possibly serve anyone any sort of long term benefits.
Yet, many seem to just completely unwilling to let the prices off their minds. From the Americans meticulously (and vocally) converting the price of every little thing into US dollars before opening their wallets, to many from developing countries who simply disappear from common activities with friends for fear of excess spending, the financial cost of London, in a way much ore than I could have imagined, is affecting the very fabric of our lives.
First-time “nice to meet you” events become inundated with stories of exorbitant prices paid for otherwise ordinary goods, providing readily available common language among participants. But then, when the bouts of complaints pass our minds and voices, what is left, inevitably, is just how cheap and miserly all of us seemed during those conversations. Plenty of back-stabbing talks of the negative nature emerge based on “emotionally connecting” complaints of high prices.
No one loves a person who thinks about money all the time. And it is especially true in a grad school, where everyone is supposedly here for a certain “life experience.” Whether they choose to say it or not, everyone knows that to “experience” means to spend money, on things that have never been done and/or in the process of meeting people who have never been met. People who are unwilling to sacrifice some cash for experience perhaps should not at all be part of one’s London “experience.”
However, as much as we all love to complain about others being too cheap for experiencing London together, we all, after all, have our own financial limits. A weeklong string of party nights with five-pound cover charges and three-pound drinks made all of us realize just how fast the spending add up and wallets get emptied. People break into cold sweat thinking about just how scary it would be (and most likely it will) for such parties to becoming regular events throughout the year.
For most, the need to balance the money issue and the experience issue becomes a disheartening tendency toward cliquey-ness. “Before I go to that expensive club/pub/bar/event, let me check who else I know will be there” become standard sentiments. Massive “nice to meet you” parties disappear, only to be replaced by small hangouts of familiar people talking amongst themselves, destroying the events’ original purpose as people-meeting experiences.
Maybe I am being a tidbit too pessimistic about the whole thing: a week into school and events still do go on involving large number of completely unknown people. Or maybe I am overvaluing that “experience” component of grad school: as classes officially begin next week, we may all come to the realization that the familiar patterns of readings and assignments, rather than meeting new people or doing new things, is ultimate definition of grad school.
Price, in the end, is really a relative factor. Come to think about it, given the right circumstance, anything obtained anywhere can be considered expensive. The monetary cost is simply a common and easily rationalized excuse anyone would use to express certain sense of discomfort or unhappiness. We all just need to put in more effort and find our own joys to make those extra few pounds, so dreaded in the mind, more worthwhile...
Yet, many seem to just completely unwilling to let the prices off their minds. From the Americans meticulously (and vocally) converting the price of every little thing into US dollars before opening their wallets, to many from developing countries who simply disappear from common activities with friends for fear of excess spending, the financial cost of London, in a way much ore than I could have imagined, is affecting the very fabric of our lives.
First-time “nice to meet you” events become inundated with stories of exorbitant prices paid for otherwise ordinary goods, providing readily available common language among participants. But then, when the bouts of complaints pass our minds and voices, what is left, inevitably, is just how cheap and miserly all of us seemed during those conversations. Plenty of back-stabbing talks of the negative nature emerge based on “emotionally connecting” complaints of high prices.
No one loves a person who thinks about money all the time. And it is especially true in a grad school, where everyone is supposedly here for a certain “life experience.” Whether they choose to say it or not, everyone knows that to “experience” means to spend money, on things that have never been done and/or in the process of meeting people who have never been met. People who are unwilling to sacrifice some cash for experience perhaps should not at all be part of one’s London “experience.”
However, as much as we all love to complain about others being too cheap for experiencing London together, we all, after all, have our own financial limits. A weeklong string of party nights with five-pound cover charges and three-pound drinks made all of us realize just how fast the spending add up and wallets get emptied. People break into cold sweat thinking about just how scary it would be (and most likely it will) for such parties to becoming regular events throughout the year.
For most, the need to balance the money issue and the experience issue becomes a disheartening tendency toward cliquey-ness. “Before I go to that expensive club/pub/bar/event, let me check who else I know will be there” become standard sentiments. Massive “nice to meet you” parties disappear, only to be replaced by small hangouts of familiar people talking amongst themselves, destroying the events’ original purpose as people-meeting experiences.
Maybe I am being a tidbit too pessimistic about the whole thing: a week into school and events still do go on involving large number of completely unknown people. Or maybe I am overvaluing that “experience” component of grad school: as classes officially begin next week, we may all come to the realization that the familiar patterns of readings and assignments, rather than meeting new people or doing new things, is ultimate definition of grad school.
Price, in the end, is really a relative factor. Come to think about it, given the right circumstance, anything obtained anywhere can be considered expensive. The monetary cost is simply a common and easily rationalized excuse anyone would use to express certain sense of discomfort or unhappiness. We all just need to put in more effort and find our own joys to make those extra few pounds, so dreaded in the mind, more worthwhile...
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