I must preface this entry by a disclaimer. I’ve been told, often by people whose judgements I trust, that I suffer from an affliction, an affliction which has irrevocably warped my view of the world. The affliction is this: I only see the good in people, events, and, by extension, places. I beg to differ, but I would admit this: Oxford is very different to different people, and what I present here might be the complete opposite of someone else’s view. Yet we must also keep in mind that how we construct meaning from experience is partly a choice, and maybe this is how I’ve chosen to experience it.
I wake up from a dream, not quite abruptly but in a slow transition. My eyes, still a little groggy, are drawn naturally towards the daylight peering in through the window. The window looks less like a window but more like a painting on medieval architecture: arched windows and towers, domes and spires. The sky is grey; the clouds moving in a rocketing speed like in a film put in fast motion. Outside my house hangs a blue plaque, which reads, in an amusing bit of philosophical self-reference, “Bishop George Berkeley, philosopher (1685 - 1753), is perceived to have lived and died here”.1 Back in my room, the shelves are lined with the original works of Hume, Mill, Kant, Nagel, Quine, Russell and Putnam, and papers by Krugman, Friedman, Stiglitz and Coase. Most read, some unread. I check the time: still an hour to go before breakfast. It’s Tuesday, and that means sausages, eggs and bacon, croissants and pain-aux-chocolats, cereal, milk, and fruit juices. I take a quick shower, put on Bach’s Cello Suites on my speakers, and simply lie down on my bed, facing the ceiling. And at this moment, there is only one thought which is lingering in my ahead:
“How in the world did I end up here?”
My life in the so-called city of dreaming spires is so different from any life that I’d ever imagined myself living, that I might as well have not woken up, and all this might as well have been a dream. And like any dream, I feel that if I do not chronicle it, its memory would slip away from my mind.
What can I say? It has all been a very enriching experience - both academically and culturally. IIT Delhi had provided me with a strong sciency, engineering-heavy, technical grounding. But reading PPE at Oxford has given me a kind of macro-perspective, a perspective informed by philosophical, economical and policy considerations. Not only the content, but also the unique style of education here has allowed me to stretch intellectually in directions I didn’t even know I could.
Oxford has what is called the tutorial system, which means that primary learning takes place in weekly one-on-one discussions with tutors in their private study where essays and “doubts” are discussed. What this essentially means is that as students here we are treated as equals, and get invaluable personal attention and customised feedback on our work by some of the world leaders in the field.
The socratic method-like approach of the tutorial system is a totally different ball game from the class room based, top-down, didactic method of instruction at IIT Delhi. I need skills which are orthogal to the ones I was trained at: succint presentation and articulate communication. I’ve had to switch from puzzles with fixed answers to open-ended essays, from programming to writing, from problem solving to argumentation, from slow, long drawn out research to assessing an argument quickly and thinking critically on your feet, from depth to breadth.
Culturally, there is a distinctive Oxford way of life. To list a few: wearing gowns and ‘subfusc’, speaking with a cultish vocabulary (‘Scouts’ ‘Bursary’ ‘Michaelmas/Hilary/Trinity’, ‘Battels’, ‘Dons’, ‘Blue’, ‘Pidge’, ‘Porter’. You don’t go to Oxford, you go up at Oxford; You don’t study for a degree, you read for a degree), attending classical music concerts and going to the theatre, free flowing wine at networking events and academic conferences (My college even has a Wine Appreciation Society, which I am a member of, obviously). From croquet and rowing to pimms and punting, from formal halls and garden parties to bops and barbeques, the Oxford life is a truly unique cultural experience - even my British friends find it very different.
But while deeply steeped in tradition and a rich history, Oxford is truly a global city, and while here you are truly a global citizen. At Oxford you meet people from from all kinds of cultures, all international backgrounds, all ages and ethnicities, pursuing every possible intellectual or extra curricular endeavour you can think of. It is cosmopolitan in the true sense, and the exposure one gets here is unparalleled.2
The global culture has contributed tremendously to my personal growth. Religion, region or race has never been central to my identity: I have always seen myself as a citizen of the world. And at Oxford I find myself among many who feel the same way.
For the first time I’ve gotten to really know the customs, cuisines, dances, and politics of so many different countries.
Did you know, for example, that in Denmark you get paid to attend college (which people stretch to the age of 26 or so)?. That in Germany you can sue your parents if they refuse to pay for your maintenance during your first college degree? That although Puerto Rico is part of US, it doesn’t belong to the US? That Switzerland, Finland and South Korea, just like Israel and Singapore, have compulsory military service for its citizens?
Lama, from Lebanon, told me about the unique political arrangement (a form of confessionalism) by which Lebanon manages to hold together -j ust about - despite its ever deepening sectarian divide. From Duja and Alex Fleming, I got to hear personal accounts of friends from both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. During the Chrismas retreat at Cumberland Lodge (which was warm and splendid), Laura told me about the struggle for Catalonian independence. I abrorbed the maverick Uruguayan president Pepe Mujica’s wisdom, listened to Hina Rabani speak and met Ingrid Betancourt, who was doing her PhD at my college.
At potlucks and social get-togethers, I got to eat Mole Poblano made by my good friend Rodolfo, Mansaf made by Hani, had Lebanese Mezze with Lama, drank English Ales at ancient pubs, ate Pastas cooked by Valentina, and learnt to cook Tom Yum soup with Luca when in Thailand. I learnt how to toast in Mexican (“Salut!”) while tasting glorious Mezcal on Rodolfo’s birthday.
There was more than one language lesson. At the supermarket, when urging Lama to get on with her shopping, I learnt that the Arabic word for “let’s go!” sounds very much like the analogous Hindi word (yella! and chalo!). I learnt how to compliment in German: “Zu bist hilferiche, Thierry!” or, “Helena, Du hast wundershone augen!. Lena taught me how to express frustration through rhetorical questions in German (and without making fun of the disabled!) - “Has du tomatn auf den augen?” (for “Are you blind?”). Rebecca taught me taught me Bulgarian slang and cuss words (Nogo si Hubawa, Koppel, Nozdrave!) and also taught me the Cyrillic alphabet - though I keep forgetting it. Valentina taught me Italian hand gestures, and I came back from my trip to Thailand with a useful arsenal of Thai words. (Sawadee Khap. Yim Suwahee. Kapkhoonkhap. Hognaam! )
I danced in Scottish Ceilidhs at Burns Night and attended Salsa classes.
By viewing it from outside, I have also advanced my understanding of Indian and Western cultures. I have developed richer perspectives on how differing traditions, laws and institutions influence different cultures over time. 3
Sports and studies, arts and academics go side by side in Oxford. People here are extremely well rounded: academically bright, physically fit, creative, witty and always politically correct (sometimes annoyingly so). Importantly, the community in Oxford believes in excellence. Whatever they pursue, they strive for excellence. Aristotle had once said that mankind’s ultimate purpose, and our ultimate happiness, lies in arete, that is, the pursuit of excellence. People in Oxford pursue this idea of excellence, excellence not as an act but as a habit, as a way of life, and just being part of this culture is incredibly rewarding.
When I came here, it was going to be my first ever extended stay abroad, and there was something to be learnt not just from new academic and cosmopolitan environment, but also from the cultural adjustments I was to make. The new dress codes to adhere to.4 The language barriers and accent barriers (“Sorry, could you repeat that?”). Western individualism,5 the differing standards of punctuality (an old joke is that in the western world time is seen as a particular point in space, while in India and east Asian cultures it is seen more as a spectrum.), the laws of a new country,6 the (insane-by-any-standards) drinking culture,7 a complete change from a primarily vegetarian to a meat heavy diet, and many other little things (like addressing professors by their first names) which I cannot even begin to list.
In my one year here, I’ve socialised and travelled extensively. I’ve enjoyed productive, thought-provoking conversations, every single day, over dinner table, in society gatherings or elsewhere. I’ve gone on hiking, camping and road trips. And I’ve learnt myriad other little things along the way.8
To put it succinctly, Oxford has broadened my mind, widened my horizons, and expanded my view of the world.
“There are few greater temptations on earth than to stay permanently at Oxford,” Hilaire Belloc had written. Another friend’s love for the city finds expression in her worst fear: that her Oxford life will prove to be the peak, as everything after this, she believes, could only possibly go downhill.
As for me though, for now, I am just glad to be here.
Berkeley, a major figure in philosophy, denied the existence of the material world, arguing instead that the world we see only exists as ideas in the minds of perceivers, and cannot exist without being perceived. ↩
I now have good friends from all over the world. Lebanon, Palestine, Puerto Rico, Germany, England, Kenya, Mexico, Singapore, USA, Slovakia, France, Canada, Scotland, Russia, Switzerland, Thailand and Denmark. Probably a couple dozen more if I were to include mere acquaintances. ↩
The developed countries have much stronger institutions than developing countries. For example: all the residents in UK are provided free publicly funded healthcare at the point of need. To get to any part of the country, there is a very efficient public transport system supplemented by informative maps and road signs. There is widespread broadband connectivity, no shortage of water and no power cuts. An individual can easily lead a good life in isolation. In the UK, a man can easily be an island.
In developing countries, by contrast, in the absence of strong institutional support, no man can be an island. Everyone ends up being dependent on one another, and this leads to a very community-based culture. In India, for example, healthcare is dominated by private sector, people often resort to home remedies and if someone is really sick, the entire mohalla would often come forward to enquire about their well being. If you’ve lost your way on the road, and in the absence of maps or connectivity you often will be, you HAVE to ask a passerby for directions. And as a driver on the road, you HAVE to take care of cars, trucks, auto-rickshaws, motorbikes, donkey carts, cyclists as well as cows, sometimes all within the same lane. Receiving and giving help, caring and accomodating, are woven into the very fabric of Indian society. It is one of our primary values without which our society cannot function.
This is not to say that people in developing countries are self centred egotists with little regard for others. (On the contrary - the regard for others is quite high - so high that the value of respective personal space overrides any urge to intervene in the affairs of others). The point is that they don’t have to, or the default way of life is not governed by such values. The primary values here are different - individual freedom, self-improvement, self-actualization.
Also, I am not saying that one is better, or indeed preferable, to the other. Both cultures have their upsides and downsides. While helping and accomodating others (a good thing) is the default mode in India, so is prying and sticking your nose in one another’s business. Personal spaces are often violated. And being dependent on other people is not the best situation to be in because people can be (and often are) unreliable.
The institutions in the UK, on the other hand, are very reliable. And but there is still reason for dissatisfaction - while services like free healthcare sound great in theory, they suffer from long queues, delays and waiting times. For availing any service, one has to go through a series of automated voice recordings, and people often yearn for a human connection. The little interdependence between people means that everyone minds their own business. And while personal spaces are protected, depression problems are also widespread, and the atmosphere is often described as grey.
The central thesis of this footnote, then, is this: differences in the degree of institutional support (state supported or not; public or private) brings about a difference in culture (how individualistic or community-based it is). ↩
What exactly is a subfusc and when are we supposed to wear one? What goes and what doesn’t for black tie and white tie events? What about garden parties? ↩
At IIT Delhi, sharing notes and studying in groups was the norm. Here, it’s more like to-each-his-own. ↩
In India, traffic etiquette is governed by a concern for other traffic, rickshaws, two wheelers, three wheelers, pedestrians, cows and dogs, as opposed to pedantic rule-following which is the case here. So lots of honking, and “walking like a cow,” as one writer puts it. ↩
The North Indian equivalents of beer and wine are chai and lassi. Far from having a bar in the college or free flowing wine in academic events, in India drinking something even remotely alcoholic is frowned upon, and is seen as an activity reserved for the rowdy, uncivilised and uneducated. ↩
This includes, for example: fixing bikes, cooking and barbecuing, first aid, and stargazing. ↩