In the hopes of obtaining a British study visa, I stood outside of the Department of Homeland Security near Sea Tac somewhere. From the moment I entered the sterile building, with it's shiny limeolum floors and intimidating gestapo-like agents, I realized something. Americans don't like immigrants. We'd have to loath them to put them through the agony of the immigration office. I was floored when I drove up to the building and saw several dozen people, spilling out the front door. Cold enough to produce little cloud puffs after each exhalation, these people came from all corners of the globe. The seemingly endless line was just for security!! Me and my mom, hopped out of the car with as much cynical patriotism we could muster and had no choice but to brave the line. What, no express line for the Americans?! Leaving PLU an hour and a half early made no difference. My 2 o'clock British visa application appointment was trumped by an 'oath ceremony', which we had the dumb luck to book on the same day).

While standing in the line, a very official looking man with a shiny gold badge reminded everyone that sneaking in the exit door and cutting others in line was not permitted. He must have forgot the he worked at the immigration office because no one understood the English-languaged directions he had just given. Suddenly had a crowd of forlorn-looking men, women, and children rushing for the exit in an attempt to get inside. "No.. No.. I said YOU CANNOT use the exit as an entrance.. you go to line.. you go to line.."
I could do nothing but sit back and laugh at the sad stupidity of the scene.
Finally getting inside, I had to strip nearly naked, 'mam, please take off your belt.. mam, your belt, please... now the shoes.." after the tediously slow security check was done, everyone was quickly shuffled to a room with about 6 different lines, which all corresponding to different needs. It was like some horrid scene from the early Ellis Island immagration era, where people were herded like cattle through a butching factory. Before I could open my mouth, a woman gave me a number, and pointed the way to where I needed to go. Up to that moment I had no spoken to anyone yet. They just assumed I was just another immigrant, so they treated me like one. I wasn't given any opportunity to speak or ask questions. Papers and IDs were demanded, not asked for. I was just one of the crowd, expected to wait, not speak until spoken to, and do what they were told.

When my number was finally called, I spoke to the woman behind the counter, in my perfectly unaccented, college-educated, American English and thats when I noticed the change.

I was smiled at, I was asked questions politely and given plenty of time to answer, I had MY questions answered. The office workers weren't so pushy, and I got bumped to the front of all the lines.

My fellow comrades noticed it too. Suddenly all eyes were inadvertently drawn to me, this woman, this American, who didn't have to wait like the rest of us. Who wasn't being ignored. Who was being invited to go where the rest of us weren't. The American who had 'privilege'.

For the first time in my life, I felt the sharp pangs of guilt of 'privilege' and it hurt me. I didn't necessarily WANT or ASK FOR this privilege. It was just given to me, by authorities and rule makers who were just like me- American.

It's almost time. Got my passport. Got my bags, well no.. I haven't even begun thinking about what to bring. I've been told London is going to be just as rainy and cold as Washington. I've gotten quite good at rain drop dodging, so I should have no problems.

I am venturing out, a young, independent woman, making her way on the British Isle. 3 1/2 months of British accents, British tea, and British teeth.

I have no idea what to expect because I've never really internationally traveled AND lived alone. Last January, I traveled with a group of PLU students to Australia, and just recently I went to Mexico for a few days. Other than that, unfortunately, my jet setting experience is very limited. To me, all a successful traveler really needs a little common sense and a sprinkle of savvy. The most important thing to remember is that if you are American, everyone hates you.. so it's best to get the President Bush questions and anti-American awkwardness out of the way early in the conversation.

Being serious for a minute, traveling is one of the greatest opportunities to get completely lost in another world and gain a totally new perspective on life. I am still trying to nail down who I am and what I want. Bad weather and rain drop dodging aside, maybe being alone in London can help me answer some of those questions... but until then, cheery-o, chaps.