For the past month, someone has been following me. I don't know who or where he or she is. All I know is that someone has been monitoring my every move since the day I arrived in London, and to tell you the truth, I'm a bit freaked out.
London is known as the most "watched" city on the planet because of the high threat of terrorist activity. What this means is that my every move is tracked, whether I like it or not.
In London, to ride the tube (subway) you have two options: buy a ticket for an extremely high price or get an Oyster card, which works like a debit card. When you use the Oyster card, you get discounted fares for traveling -- much cheaper than just buying a ticket.
Why would the city charge people less just for using this card? There is a conspiracy theory that the mayor instituted this system to monitor Londoners' traveling patterns. Not only are we being watched by the cameras on every street corner, but our traveling habits are also being tracked.
In addition to being monitored by London, the communist compound where I'm living has me completely under its control. My study abroad program placed its 300 students in a local student housing facility. It's basically a big dorm for students studying in London, but it's not affiliated with a single university. There are students living here from all over the world and studying at one of the many colleges in London. But this place is not like any dorm I've ever heard of.
To enter the building, I have to swipe my access card. Sounds similar to U.Va. dorms, right? Wrong, very wrong. First, it is very rare that the machine reads your card on the first try, so there is a constant line of students waiting to give their cards a go. (Let's hope there's never a fire, which London is notorious for having.)
Second, if your card continues to give the dreaded beeping sound, the intimidating Russian woman behind the desk (who coincidentally looks a lot like Mrs. Trunchbull, the headmaster from the film "Matilda") is forced to try her luck at the machine. One of the most frightening sights is Mrs. Trunchbull stomping toward you with a look of utter irritation plastered on her already terrifying face.
Third, not only are we required to swipe into the building, but we also must swipe to get out of the building. This means that if she wanted to, Mrs. Trunchbull could probably deactivate our cards, keep us trapped in the building and spin us around by our pigtails or something equally torturous.
Finally, Mrs. Trunchbull has a team of men in black suits (unfortunately, not as attractive as Will Smith) just as frightening as she is who wander the halls to ensure students are "safe." These men don't speak, they just watch. They watch as you walk to the kitchen, as you climb the stairs, as you ride the elevator. Every time you turn a corner, one of these men is watching. Sometimes they even skulk behind you until you reach your final destination.
I know all of these measures have been put into place to ensure my safety, but I would feel much more safe if London and Mrs. Trunchbull would let me fend for my own. I keep praying that my swipe card continues to work when I try to exit the building, or else my pigtails may very well be in dire peril.
Courtney's column runs biweekly Wednesdays. She can be reached at kessler@cavalierdaily.com.
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