As it was the Fourth of July (being in The Motherland only contributes to our American pride), and as there was a plenary session going on about the lovely state of American politics, not a lot of people showed up to play--probably only about ten or so, which was nice because the resulting game involved a lot less running.
It was nice to play again.
I just got back from a seminar about the globalisation of international education.
Yeah. That's what I thought too.
But PKP gave me a scholarship, so to this Global Scholars Seminar I was obliged to go.
Like most things I've experienced at Cambridge thus far, the talk surprised me. Here, seminars are actually seminars--no more than twenty people, always with plenty of tea and coffee to go around (I had water, thankyouverymuch). Tonight, there were nine of us. Ten, counting the speaker.
I'd brought my iPad with me as a safeguard against boredom, but what followed was a passionate ninety-minute seminar on the globalisation of international education... in the context of Brexit. I'm almost certain it wasn't planned this way, but right at this moment, it's very difficult for anyone British, let alone in Cambridge (which voted Remain three to one), to discuss anything remotely international without expressing uncertainty about the nation's political future.
Apparently, despite a general increase in the number of students leaving the country to study abroad, the UK, as a whole, lags behind the majority of Europe (including Poland) in the number of students it sends abroad. With Brexit, there is an even greater possibility that this exchange, previously through the Erasmus Programme, will drop dramatically given a necessary increase in fees.
As I sat there with my tall, thin glass of water, sunlight slanting in through the window of the Old Parlour, I was struck by a sudden feeling of disbelief.
I spent my high school years mocking the general uselessness of such international organizations as the UN, its associated organs, and regional organizations like the EU, and there was always a disconnect between me in my MUN suit and the politicians Brussels or New York City. I was playacting. They were a bunch of old farts out of touch with the world, with my generation, with everything.
But now that I've seen that the inclination of just one nation, not even my own, to turn its back on this seemingly effete, superficial construct of transnational cooperation, that just this one outcry of popular democracy, has thrown its citizens into such a state of unprecedented uncertainty, I've been forced to reevaluate my personal judgement of these international bodies. While I remain unconvinced of the practical effectiveness of these organizations (and generally, of large organizations as a whole), I'm beginning to realize that it's not just what something (or someone) gets done that matters when considering that something (or someone)'s worth; what others believe that something or someone represents is equally as important, as is the negation of this representation.
Some of those who voted Remain view the outcome of the referendum as a clear indicator of Britain's increasing insularity and the failure of communication, not just across national borders, but also within countries and regions and cities and towns and villages. Some of those who voted Leave view the outcome of the referendum as a clear indicator that the British people have come to their senses and are finally admitting a mistake many costly years after its commission. Some of both believe they voted in the nation's best interests.
As a literal stranger in a strange land, it is at once both intellectually fascinating and practically terrifying to dip into the bubbling anxiety that at times slips through the near-impenetrable armor of tradition here at Cambridge, where they mow the lawn in neat checkers every day and grown men wear flapping Severus Snape robes around the grounds on a fairly frequent basis.
A lot of grokking will be done, I am sure.
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