A little over a decade ago, when I was in college, I went on a family trip to London, England, for about three weeks. Since my English communication skills were still basic at the time, I decided to attend a language school during my stay.
The school I chose was situated in the Bloomsbury District, close to the British Museum and the University College London campus. Every morning, I’d walk from my hotel to school, down the Tottenham Court Road, then through narrower streets, passing by the British Museum and a few little parks.
The class started at nine in the morning and lasted until three in the afternoon. In the middle, there was an hour-long lunch break, something that turned out to be the toughest challenge for me at school.
I thought I should take the opportunity to hang out with other students, but all my classmates seemed to have their own lunch plans outside of school. My limited speaking skills didn’t give me the courage to ask anybody out, either.
So, I wandered around by myself, exploring different lunch options. I first tried the school’s cafeteria, but the noisy, chaotic space was less than comfortable. I then tried bringing my own lunch and having it in the park behind the school. The green grasses and spring flowers were comforting, but then, I saw many students and teachers from the nearby language schools eating lunch in groups, chatting and laughing. It reminded me how alone I was, and I decided to leave that place, too.
One lunch break, I ended up walking up a few streets to the British Museum. The place was bustling with many tourists, young and old, families, friends and solo travellers. There was no admission fee or security check. The moment I walked inside, a deep breath left me. A sense of relief. That’s what I felt in that moment, surrounded by the scent of ancient artifacts and happy tourists. Suddenly, I no longer felt alone nor intimidated. I felt at home.
After a short visit, I sat on the colonnade outside and ate my lunch. Dangling my legs in the spring breeze, I felt happy. Sitting to my right and left were other tourists, some eating, some chatting, some reading.
For the remainder of my time at the language school, I ran back to the British Museum every day to have my lunch. Never had I imagined that I would go to this world-renowned museum just to eat my lunch. But the place was my sanctuary, a happy place where I never felt alone.
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