Well, now that I've been home for a week, I think it's time to fill you all in on my travels to Rome, Paris, London and home!
My friend Tom arrived on Tuesday the 22nd, and the next day we set off for Rome. It was absolutely miserable hauling two and a half months worth of my life all the way up St. Aldates to High Street and down to Queen's Lane, even with his help, but we managed it and took the bus to the airport. We were on separate flights (since Tom booked earlier and managed to get a cheaper-but-indirect flight on Swiss Air that stopped in Zurich,) so I waited around at Heathrow for a few hours longer than I really needed to and went on my way!
I actually ended up in Rome more than three hours before Tom did, because his flight was delayed and he missed his connection in Zurich. Thus, I set out alone to find our hostel, which involved a train ride and short walk. I arrived before it got fully dark and settled in. The hostel was nice: it had decently comfortable beds, cheap wifi, and a bar area where you could purchase drinks and watch the World Cup, if so desired. Tom had a few more adventures on the way, but he arrived safe and sound sometime during the night and we met up at breakfast the next morning to explore.
We had two full days in Rome. The first was spent on the Colosseum, lunch, the Roman Forum and the Spanish Steps. The Colosseum is quite large, and in the middle of the modern city. There's a busy road that surrounds it, with cafes and shops on the other side of six or so lanes of traffic. The Colosseum, while really impressive in an intellectual sense, didn't touch me on a more emotional level; it mostly just felt big and hot and touristy, and I didn't get much sense of its history. The Roman Forum was much more emotionally expressive. There are these beautiful pines that have incredibly tall trunks and only branch out at the top, and just the prevalence of the ruins with the maintained gardens and vistas was really lovely. My main impression of the Spanish Steps is that there were a lot of them, and that it is delightful to eat gelato and watch the police chase off the counterfeit purse vendors.
The second was devoted to Vatican City, including St. Peter's basilica and the Sistine chapel, accessed via the Vatican Museum. Tom and I opted to climb all 551 steps of the basilica to reach the cupola, rather than pay two euro extra and cut out 221 of them. By the time we reached the top, we were absolutely exhausted, but the view of the city was lovely, and the light breeze refreshing. This wore us out, and we only had energy to go on the the museum and attached Sistine chapel before returning to the hostel. Tom went on that evening to do a bit more exploring, but as I had the following morning to explore as well, I stayed behind and watched Italy's final world cup game in the bar of the hostel with a Canadian and some Australians I'd met the night before.
In the morning, Tom and I parted ways, and I went on to explore the Pantheon and a few of Rome's famous fountains. It was a leisurely sort of day; my flight for Paris didn't leave until around 6, so I had plenty of time to explore before making my way back to the airport. The Fountain of the Four Rivers was particularly impressive, and I had a nice lunch right in front of the Pantheon. I actually managed to have a nice, abridged sort of conversation with a pleasant older Italian lady on the train to the airport; she spoke no English, and I the most minimal Italian, but we made ourselves understood well enough with snippets of language, pantomime and facial expressions. All the Rome pictures can be found here.
Paris was next. Rather than staying in a hostel, I decided to stay in a real hotel for added security and privacy while I traveled alone in a country where I speak the language only falteringly. The hotel was cheap and the room small, but it was clean and everything worked like it was supposed to, internet and television included, which gave it a special place in my heart. It was a good 12 kilometers outside of city center, which made for a lovely quiet area, but meant that getting there from the airport involved a shuttle, two trains and a half mile walk. The train into central Paris was at least half an hour to the nearest sites. I only had one full day in Paris after arriving at around 8 in the evening, so I spent the day seeing as much as I could. I did the Eiffel Tower first, and went up to the second deck, the top being closed for "congestion." It was probably not worth the hour-long wait in line, but it's nice to say that I did it, and the view of the city was lovely. After, I saw Notre Dame, where there are the most charming birds living in the hedges which will perch on fingers to eat bread out of your hand, and the outside of the Louvre, which I didn't go into because I knew I didn't have time to do it right. Rather than speed through, see the Mona Lisa and leave, I decided to leave the whole thing for another, better time. Soaking one's feet in the fountains outside the glass pyramids, however, is absolutely delightful. Last, I saw the Arc de Triomphe, and returned to my hotel tired but feeling as though I'd made the most of my one day in Paris. I took plenty of pictures which will be linked below.
I had a little extra time in the morning again before I had to fly to London, so I spent a few hours at the fountains by the Louvre and had lunch in a famous cafe, Angelina's. It's famous for its hot chocolate, which I did try and enjoy, but the star of the show was the quiche Lorraine, which was indisputably the best I'd ever eaten. Angelina's was also conveniently right next to Galignani's, the first English-language bookstore in Paris, where I picked up some light reading to keep me company at lunch. After that it was off to London.
The hostel in London was very comfortable. Massive, it had over 800 beds (mostly in 8-or-10 bed mixed dorms, like the one I stayed in.) It had a travel shop where you could buy towels, padlocks and other necessities, as well as a restaurant, snack bar, bar and numerous relaxation rooms. It was also decorated in outlandish neon colors, and was all-in-all a funky, fun place to stay. I again only had one day in London, though, and while I'd seen most of what I was interested in on my day trip during term, I wanted to make the most of my last full day outside the US. As such, I made my way to the Tower of London on the Underground, and spent the majority of my day there.
The Tower of London is a large enclosed area almost like a city within London. The crown jewels are housed there, which I saw (sorry, no pictures allowed and the guards seemed serious,) as well as different exhibitions on the Tower throughout history. It was a really fascinating experience, and I enjoyed wandering around and having lunch in the cool green areas. My favorite exhibition was called "Fit for a King," and showed armor from the history of the English kings. At the end of my tour, something even more exciting happened. Finding myself alone in the artillery room by sheer chance, I struck up a conversation with one of the guards/docents and chatted. I moved on after our conversation ended, but I few minutes later he came and found me in the gift shop. Taking me aside, he took me to a roped-off area where he pointed out some original stone masonry and woodwork, and actually gave me a tiny chip of stone from the original blocks of the Tower, dating something around 1077. It was fascinating, and I was so pleased to learn more, not to mention take such a fantastic souvenir home with me. I didn't manage to get a picture of the guard or learn his name, but he was very nice and made my trip even better.
In the evening, I went to the theater. I saw Wicked at the Apollo Victoria, where I got front-row tickets for £25. Front row tickets aren't usually considered desirable, but I had the time of my life and really enjoyed the whole show. It was a fantastic way to end my time in London, and the show was incredible; I'd read the book, but seeing it onstage is a completely different experience, and I'm glad I got to do so. In retrospect, I would have expected it to feel lonely going to a show by myself, but it didn't at all, and I'm very glad. Much of this trip depended on me being able to do things by myself and enjoy them without sharing, and I really think I was able to do that. I can't imagine how dull it would have been if I'd spent the entire time wishing I had companions. That isn't to say that I wasn't ready to come home and have some friendship by the end; I just managed to enjoy myself very fully on my own as well. All the photos from Paris and London can be found here.
My next day and the flight home were uneventful. I had no problems at any point, a perfect seat companion who both knew when to chat and when to shut up, and a varied selection of movies to keep me entertained while I crossed an ocean. My mom and grandparents met me at the airport, and thus concluded a nearly three-month adventure in Oxford and surrounding bits of Europe.
This trip has been worth a great deal. Oxford is an incredible place with a very different style of both learning and living, and I think I've gained a lot from my experiences there. I managed to guide myself and a friend to Rome, explore Paris and London on my own, and cross international borders four times in a week without getting arrested even once. While I think I'll always cherish what I did there, it also reawakened my excitement for things at home that I'd grown so accustomed to as to find boring. I'm thrilled to start my senior year at William and Mary in about seven weeks, and it's nice to be under the wide, wispy blue American sky.
Thank you for following me through all of it. It was a comfort and a source of perspective to realize that people at home were watching, waiting and rooting for me. This will be the last post in this blog, but I'm sure that I'll have other adventures, and if any of them seem worthy of recording, you will all be the first to know. Thank you again, and it's good to be home.
Warning: this is going to be quite a long one!
This week has been a series of wrapping things up. On Monday I had my Principal's Collections, which are where we receive our marks for the term and have a brief (five minutes) meeting with the Principal, Dr. Reynell and the senior tutor. The actual meeting is just an exercise in smalltalk, honestly, but I've been quite pleased with my marks all week.
Before I tell what they are, I must explain the Oxford system: while Americans subtract from 100, so an A begins at 90%, Oxford builds up from 0, so what would be an American A- begins at 65%. They quantify their grades differently as well; rather than A, B, C, D, F, you are assigned a class of honor, and then a division within that. The best possible grade is first class honors. Second class honors follow that, separated into upper division, a 2:1, and lower division, a 2:2. Apparently you can get third class honors as well, but I've never heard anyone mention it; I think it's rather shameful, and Wikipedia says less than 10% of students receive it. That being said, these are my marks:
Shakespeare's Comedies: projected mark (since we weren't quite finished) 65-69% / 2:1 / A-
Lesbian literature: 68% / 2:1 / A-
Victorian literature: 70% / 1 / A
From what I've been led to believe by Dr. Reynell, this is quite good. Considering that this was my only term at Oxford and I spent at least half the term just trying to figure out what they wanted of me, I feel pleased indeed with what I've accomplished. I was considerably less pleased when my father called me at 1:30 AM Oxford time to congratulate me, but I know it was meant with love.
Wednesday I finished my last tutorial with David. I brought both of my final essays to that meeting on a whim, and luckily enough we managed to actually get through both instead of having to meet again on Thursday. It's been strange being in Oxford with absolutely no academic requirements, but it's also incredibly nice, and I feel like I've earned it. Though I never felt stressed in terms of time here, (I've still never pulled an all-nighter in my life, and actually never even waited to finish an essay on the day of my tutorial here,) the sheer amount of writing I had to do was weighing on me by the end. All told, I wrote over 35,000 words in 9 weeks, which amounts to nearly 100 double-spaced pages. After Oxford, I'm looking forward to the relative degree of slacking I'll be able to do at William and Mary!
Thursday was the Hertford College Music Society dinner, where people in choir or orchestra (pretty much mostly choir) got together and went to Las Iguanas, a latin restaurant. There's also a tradition that the dinners are themed, and people wear costumes according to the theme. The theme this time was "children's television." I saw a smurf, Pippy Long-stocking, Tintin, and some characters from Dr. Who (is that really children's television?) I, however, was Misty from the original pokemon tv series. You can see a picture of her here, and me to the side. I felt outrageous, but that was half the point, and it was fun. A lot of people couldn't come, but those who did were fantastic and I enjoyed myself quite a lot. (However, the assertion that British people don't do latin food very well is true. It wasn't terrible, but as I've said concerning most food here: "fine, but not very exciting.") I also did some exploring that day, but the pictures are more exciting than anything I could say about them. "Part four" of my albums, to which I link at the bottom of this post, covers the exploration.
Friday night was the chapel dinner, which is a much more formal affair. It's for everyone who regularly attends and contributes to chapel, primarily the choir but also those involved in the religious aspects, by invitation of the chaplain. Seats were extremely limited this year, so I wasn't expecting to receive an invitation, but I did! It's black tie, with drinks at the chapel beforehand and dinner in-hall with the high table after. The seating was prearranged, so I was put into the corner farthest away from everything (I still have a vague sort of feeling that Leanne doesn't like me, but I suppose someone has to sit in the corner) and I didn't know two of the three people nearest me. However, the conversation was excellent, the food was good, and I got to see all my friends after. Leanne arranged a compline after dinner (which was interesting, with the drinks before and the well-stocked wine at the table.) Compline is an evening service lit only by candlelight, done entirely in plainsong. It's really quite lovely, and I'm glad I was able to attend one. The picture, being one of the few I managed to take that evening, is of the chapel afterward. After compline, a reduced group of us returned to the hall to chat and finish the wine, and it was overall a very nice end to my time with the choir. I've made some excellent friends, and I know I'll see them again.
Early Saturday morning, which was an interesting choice following the wine consumption the night before, I departed for Bath. There's only one direct bus a day from Oxford to Bath, and one from Bath to Oxford, so I didn't have much of a choice in my travel times. It's a two hour ride, but the countryside is lovely, particularly once you're very near to Bath. The hills grow and grow until you're driving along the edge of a rather steep incline, where everything is a different lush shade of green and you can see the surrounding farms and towns and villages spread out over the dips and hills. I dreadfully wanted a picture of a certain place on the drive, but I managed to be sitting on the wrong side of the bus both ways. Ah, well; one thing I know for sure is that I will definitely be back to the UK.
Bath itself was lovely. The first thing I saw, right outside the Roman Baths as a matter of fact, was a man riding a 10-foot unicycle while juggling flaming torches. There was a general upswing in the quality of the street performers here, but he was absolutely the best. He did at least two more shows while I was in town, so he's consistent as well as amazing. There's a video here for proof: you can here my slightly hysterical reactions. (The whole thing made me rather nervous!)
Bath itself is a very different city than Oxford. While Oxford exudes a sense of being centuries and centuries old, Bath itself (outside the Roman Baths,) doesn't in the same way even though it's considerably older. For some reason, the vibe I got most strongly was a lot closer to 1940s New York. I think it was the architecture, but I'm really not sure. It makes sense, though; Wikipedia says that much of the city was damaged or destroyed in 1942 during the war, so much of it must have been rebuilt or built new during that time period. The Baths, however, were a different story. It was an amazing thing to see remains of human life that are considerably pre-Christian; the temple at the Baths was dedicated to Sulis, a goddess of the Celts, and Minerva, whom the Romans identified with the other. People who know my father will find it appropriate that I found his souvenir here.
I also visited the Bath Abbey, which has had some sort of religious activity on its site for over 1,000 years. It's a beautiful, beautiful church, and I took the tour that allowed me all the way up to the top of the tower, including the bell-ringing chamber and behind the clock face. The views of the scenery around Bath were lovely, and while climbing the cramped, narrow, uneven stone spiral staircase was a bit harrowing, it was definitely worth it. Like I said before, the countryside around Bath is absolutely gorgeous, and the views are tremendous in any direction. As usual, there are more pictures in the album, linked below.
Now that things are wrapping up, I have at least a little bit of perspective on the experience. Coming to England has been a strange but fantastic experience for me; in a way it's better than anything I could have hoped for, because it's real, but it's also disillusioning in a very gentle way. I think I prefer the real thing to just imagining what it might be like, anyway. These last few days before I travel will be odd: both the regular Hertford students and the other visiting students left yesterday, but the other William and Mary students and I are here until at least Wednesday; I'm actually the first of us to leave. Cassie and Olivia aren't even here, actually; they've gone to Paris for the weekend. It was weird being here alone together at the beginning before we knew one other people; now that I'm used to Hertford friends and a buzzing quad, it'll be even weirder. (Speaking of Olivia, by the way, she's an aspiring cartoonist in a contest run by the Washington post! Vote for her here!) Not for long, though: my friend Tom from home arrives sometime on Tuesday, and we depart for Rome on Wednesday. I leave him to go to Paris by myself on Saturday, then to London Monday, and I fly home that Wednesday. This last week and a half will be a blur. Don't worry: you'll get at least one more blog post before I sign off from this travel blog, and probably two with a possible final summary at the end.
On a different note, I have taken an outrageous number of photos here. Each facebook album holds 200 pictures, and I'm well into my fifth album now. For easy access, here are links and descriptions of them all: Part one: arrival, the college and surrounding areas, the first part of the Natural History Museum. Part two: second part of the Natural History Museum, Pitt Rivers Museum, TJ's visit, London, chapel, Inklings walking tour. Part three: the Botanic Gardens, street performances and points of interest, Tolkien's grave, Oxford gay pride, Natural History Museum part three. Part four: Natural History Museum part four, friends finishing, view from St. Mary's tower, Holywell cemetery, St. Cat's, HCMS dinner, Bath part one. Part five: Bath part two, ???
For your reading pleasure, a final Things I've Noticed about Oxford and England itself:
The sky is different. Much of the parts of England I've seen the most of is very flat, so you can see for miles and miles. This gives a sense of the sky being very low and very close; the clouds seem too solid and too near. It's strange, because it feels sort of claustrophobic and exposed at the same time. It's not uncomfortable, just a sort of vague sense of unease when looking out the coach window and seeing something that it might take me a day to walk to under these tangible white clouds.
The trees are short, and there aren't enough of them. This sort of adds to my sense of being able to see forever, because what trees there are aren't tall enough to obscure the view.
Service industry people in unpretentious jobs are really, really nice. Service industry people working at posh places are rude. At least, this has been the general trend.
Strangers are much less willing to be won over. At home I often manage to endear myself to first-time acquaintances through manners, charm and simple being a somewhat attractive young female human being. I think the characteristic "British reserve" has something to do with this; you're just not going to be that friendly with someone you don't know.
England is the second-most beautiful place I have been to in the world, the first being St. Martin in the Caribbean. I can't wait to come back.
Monday and Tuesday of this past week were relatively boring. It rained, in proper British fashion, and I managed to finish my work early, so I legitimately had absolutely nothing to do until I received my next assignment. In an effort to shake off the general malaise associated with being utterly at loose ends on a gloomy day, I decided to venture forth to try to visit Tolkien's grave. It had been spitting a bit all morning without fully raining, so I took an umbrella but wasn't overly concerned. I figured out the bus routes all by my lonesome, and got on my merry way.
Can I just point out, by the way, that the Oxford city buses don't announce the stops? They're not very tourist friendly, since it took me half an hour online to even figure out which bus goes where I wanted to go, and you have to be able to recognize your stop by sight without any indications. Conveniently for me I had written down which streets were close to my stop, so I managed to achieve transportation victory, but really, it wasn't overly easy.
To return to the point, as I sat on the bus, it began to rain. Not terribly hard, just a constant drizzle. Okay, thought I, that's not too bad; I have an umbrella. The moment that I identified my stop approaching, however, the gravid clouds gave birth to an approximately infinite number of tremendous rain drops.
In short, it poured. And I wasn't wearing my wellies.
Despite this, Wolvercote Cemetery is lovely. Apparently it was voted "Best Cemetery" in 2001, and while I'm not sure what that would entail other than keeping its dead people soundly interred, it was a beautiful place despite nearly drowning. Tolkien's grave is pointed out by a series of little stone markers. The grave itself is a little cluttered with fans' tokens of admiration, some of which are completely inexplicable, but it was nice to see it for myself. I had nothing to leave, but I was there, and that's enough for him and me both, I think. I'm glad I got the chance to go while I was here.
Wednesday I had my tutorial with David. I'd read and written on Measure for Measure, and I have to say that it was the first time in my Shakespeare tutorial that I actually felt mildly brilliant. The conversation was really engaging, and I really felt like both David and I really enjoyed it. Plus, I apparently uncovered something he didn't know: the name "Isabella" is associated with the phrase "consecrated to God" in Italian, and it works particularly well since Isabella in the play has every intention of becoming a nun. To say that I did not do a mental happy-dance when he said he hadn't known that would be to lie. I only have two more meetings with David, though we're doing them both next week, on Wednesday and Thursday. I have to write on The Tempest, and already wrote another essay on A Midsummer Night's Dream about how the movie/play "Closer" by Patrick Marber starring Natalie Portman and Julia Roberts is the same story retold. It was a challenging essay, but I'm not too worried.
Friday I finished my tutorial with Jennie. I'd written on religion, myth and fairy tales in Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson, which I didn't find to be a particularly challenging book. I'm working on finishing up my tutorial with David now.
Saturday was Oxford Gay Pride! There was a parade and a huge fair, and it was a lot of fun. I went with friends, but ended up staying more than twice as long as they did; I got a lovely henna tattoo on my hand (for those of you who aren't familiar with henna, don't worry! It's not permanent, it's just a stain that wears off within a week or so, depending on how well you treat it.) I also took some fantastic pictures, which, as usual, you can find here. It was a ball, and I'm glad I got to experience how Oxford does it.
Today's the last service with the Choir. It all went very fast, and I can't believe this is the last one. There's the Hertford College Music Society dinner on Thursday, which is a costume dinner based on the theme of "Children's Television." I've got my costume all set up now, but I won't give it away yet; wait for pictures next week!
For my penultimate post while still in Oxford, I'll introduce a new category: Things I Miss:
Mexican food
Seafood other than fish (which is usually fried anyway), but right now particularly crab (Mama, can I get the all-you-can-eat Maryland Blue Crab when we go to Tim's Rivershore?)
Milk with meals (the Hall only has flavored milks, chocolate/banana/strawberry most of the time)
Veggies other than peas and cabbage
Pretty much food in general other than carbs and meat, actually, so let's move on from that.
The various cats that deign to share their existence with me
Legitimately hot summer
William and Mary
Family
Friends
Night time. The days are 16 and a half hours long and we're still more than a week from the solstice!
And of course...: Things I've Noticed:
The bumble bees here aren't the big fat yellow and black ones back home. They're smaller and gray. The hornets, however, are huge and nasty. I killed one (accidentally, while trying to catch it and put it outside, actually,) while TJ was still here, and we joked for the rest of his visit that I'd slain a dragon. Seriously, massive.
Dogs, according to my observances, are not nearly so pampered/appreciated/generally adored as they are at home. If you smile and look at someone's doggy, the person gives you a weird look. What, I just like your dog!
"Trashing" is an Oxford post-exam tradition. After you've finished your last exam, your "friends" pelt you with all sorts of detritus, from champagne, silly string and confetti to eggs, mayo, flour and all sorts of other nastiness. What they throw is kind of up to them, so some people are nice and only throw relatively inoffensive things, but lots are less considerate. Personally, for someone like me who really appreciates being clean, it sounds dreadful, but since I don't have exams I don't have to worry about it.
Strangers make more eye contact than I'm fully comfortable with. Cities like DC and New York have taught me the golden rule of "Look straight ahead, don't engage, use your peripheral vision" for strangers. People here (particularly the homeless, but that's another story) will definitely look you in the eye before moving on. It's mildly discomfiting.
Hand-rolled cigarettes are much more of a thing. I see them pretty frequently.
Oxford is a lovely city when shared with friends, but it is an incredibly meaningful city when explored alone. There are plenty of places to go in groups, like pubs and dance clubs, but many of the most poignant experiences are best done by yourself. Luckily, I'm a very independent person, so I have no difficulty exploring on my own, and finding my own treasures.
Wednesday was an important choir service; it was the Eve of Corpus Christi, and we were singing very difficult music. It's a new thing for me to sing in a choir; I have some confidence in my voice, to an extent, when it's just me and my teacher, but when it comes to singing in an ensemble it's a bit nerve-wracking. There's just so much I don't know, and I do the best I can, but my inexperience keeps me from even knowing if I'm doing acceptably or not. I enjoy it very much, though, and it's been a great social experience as well.
I hadn't had a chance to take pictures of the chapel yet, but I made time this week. It's where the choir rehearses and our services are held, and it's absolutely beautiful. It's part of the intimidation factor that it's so lovely, because it's hard to break that impressive silence with sounds that are less than perfect. The rest of the choir seems well immune to that by now, but I'm not sure if I still feel it just because I'm new, or because I've always had a kind of reverence for sacred spaces.I really enjoy watching the Anglican services as well; it's so different from what I'm used to, and I like the formality of the ritual. Plainsong is particularly lovely.
Thursday was an absolutely gorgeous day: 75 degrees and sunny with a perfectly clear blue sky. I managed to finish my essay at 10 o'clock in the morning, so I spent all afternoon after lunch in the Botanic Garden reading Measure for Measure and sunning. The Garden, as I mentioned before, is beautiful, and it was incredibly relaxing to lie in the grass just reading and thinking. I put up many, many pictures, most of which can be found HERE. That's the third of my Oxford albums now; you can find the first 400 pictures (seriously!) here and here. You might like to check them all out, if you're particularly interested in Oxford; I add a bit of insight there that I don't repeat here, and you get a much larger selection of images than I share in the blog.
Saturday I was in a bit of a foul mood, so I went out to get lunch and food for dinner about mid-day. As I walked down Cornmarket street, however, I was suddenly waylaid by a street performer and shanghaied into volunteering for his show. He was a knife-and-fire juggler, and the show was very impressive! My job, however, was not. While others got to shout things for the audience to repeat, or lie down on the ground and have knives juggled over them, I was given the task of keeping the stage alive whilst he switched tools between tricks. How, one might ask? ...I was given a large red baton, told it to wave it in the air and run about the perimeter of the circle shouting "LALALALALA" at the top of my lungs. Let us just say that I did as I was told and leave it at that. Not, perhaps, the job I would have chosen for myself, but it's something I couldn't say I'd done before, certainly. Saturday was a fun day in general, as Cornmarket street turns into a kind of street festival on the weekends regularly with all the street performers, and you can see more of the pictures toward the latter part of this album here.
Today was my second-to-last service with the choir, and it was lovely. There's this really cheesy piece by Basil Harwood, Magnificat and Nunc Dimitis in A flat that's really silly, but it's my absolute favorite that we've sung for some reason. We did it once earlier in the year, and we did it again today. I can't find any recordings of it online, except this absolutely awful little midi file. If you want to hear what just the Magnificat sounds like, this is as close as I can get you. It's nothing like hearing it with real organ and voices, but... I also had a really delightful conversation with an older gentleman who's been participating in Hertford Chapel Choir for 20 years about breeding cows. He actually has connections in Williamsburg about the Devon Milking cows that apparently have died out in the UK but are still alive and well in the 'burg. Small world, hm?
That's all for this week, I do believe. Time for Things I've Noticed:
People are much less touchy-feely. Hugs are rare, and even shaking hands is not particularly common. I gave Helena a hug after our last tutorial, and she seemed a bit surprised. Not displeased, but...
Religion here is very different from at home. There's a generally much more open attitude about people who are different from one's own self, and there's certainly no issue for people who are both gay and incredibly devout. In fact, probably about 60 or 70% of the ordained that I've met here are gay, including the Hertford chaplain.
I've only known one of the hymns we've sung in chapel, and it was under a different name with different words. All the rest are completely new to me.
Apparently turkey is a "very American thing." Who knew?
Well, dear readers, I am 21 years old, which means I can go home in a month and legally indulge in everything I'm already legally allowed to do here. Huzzah? I find it hard to believe that that baby in this picture ever actually existed, but I suppose both grandmothers would beg to differ.
Seriously, though, my birthday was lovely. Sunday night the choir sang me happy birthday in full harmony at Formal Hall, and in my birthday itself TJ and my fellow William & Mary'ers surprised me at lunch in hall with a bottle of champagne, balloons and sweets. I should have taken a picture, but honestly I was so surprised I completely forgot. It was absolutely charming, and made me feel quite loved indeed. Monday night TJ and I went out to our favorite restaurant in Oxford, the Riviera, which is run by a Lebanese family and makes the most excellent food if you order the right things. They also have cheap takeout deals for lunch and are right across the street from my dorm, so I've gotten to know them quite well.
Wednesday TJ went home. The process was quite smooth, and we got him there in plenty of time and with more than enough for me to get back to Oxford for my tutorial later in the day. It's sad to see him go, but it was a fantastic visit, and I'm glad he came. If anything, I think being able to share Oxford with him enhanced the trip for me, because I got to play the role of tour guide for once, and show him all my favorite things.
I also had my second tutorial with David Wednesday, and that went very well. He's not scary at all, really, and our conversations are very interesting, particularly because I know nothing whatsoever about drama, so I'm almost starting from square one. He's very patient, though, and I feel like I've learned a lot already.
Thursday I received my birthday present from home! It was the most ridiculous little package full of strange and wonderful things, and it made me happy. Inside were three birthday cards, scrunchies, hair elastics, hair claws, Obama magnets, little pins with birdies on them, a set of Burt's Bees beauty supplies, and some lovely emerald earrings. Emerald is my birth stone, and I don't have any, so I really like those especially. Thank you, Mom, and thank you Nana for mailing it! I actually like that it came a bit late, let me stretch out my birthday over a week instead of just one day.
Friday I finished up the first of my three tutorials, Victorian literature focusing on the detective novel. For that tutorial, I read: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins, Bleak House by Charles Dickens, The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon, The Sign of Four and The Hound of the Baskervilles, both by Arthur Conan Doyle. That's rather a lot of reading for six weeks worth of work, and I'm proud of myself. I'll miss my meetings with Helena, though. I think she's my favorite.
Lesbian literature is progressing apace as well. Thus far our works there have been "Christabel" by Coleridge, Carmilla by Sheridan LeFanu, The Well of Loneliness by Radcliffe Hall, and The Rainbow by DH Lawrence. We have two more weeks, focusing on The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein and Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson. David and I have only done Twelfth Night, The Merchant of Venice and Love's Labour's Lost thus far, but we'll have three more plays before the end. We're planning on finishing up a week early, though, by doing a two-hour tutorial in 8th week rather than progressing through 9th. That'll give him a chance to go on vacation earlier, and me a chance to travel more before I go home.
Speaking of traveling, I'm starting to solidify my plans for the end of term. I plan on meeting up with two friends from William & Mary who are studying in Bath and London respectively. Starting on the 23rd, we'll spend three nights in Rome together. After that, though, I'm on my own, so I plan on spending two nights in Paris followed by two in London before I fly home. Details are still being ironed out, but it seems like quite a ride.
Today I saw a one-man-and-dog band. He was playing the guitar and the harmonica, singing, and beating a drum with his foot while his dog howled in time. I didn't have my camera, which is something I think I'll regret for quite a while. I gave him all the change I had.
That's all, I believe; to conclude, some more Things I've Noticed:
British people love to congregate in doorways. If they are in any open space that has an archway, door or passage, they will immediately flow toward it as if magnetically drawn and then block it as fully as they possibly can. There are rarely exceptions.
Apparently it's baby waterfowl season. I saw 10 ducklings today of two different species.
Most people are really bad at punting (propelling yourself down a river in a flat boat with a long pole.) There's usually a good deal of screaming involved.
I have committed the basest of transgressions available to the American world traveler. I have worshipped at the temple of the most unholy.
I have eaten at a McDonalds in a foreign country.
Allow me to make a few excuses for myself before I'm utterly condemned. Around 5:00 on Thursday afternoon, my innate clumsiness, passed down carefully from generation to generation finally down through my mother to me, reared its persistent head.
Basically, I whacked myself in the face with my own laptop and gave myself a nose bleed.
After pouring out my lifeblood into a tissue for a while (for the concerned adults: yes, this is hyperbole. No, I wasn't dying) I felt decidedly shaky and displeased, and I really just wanted a taste of home. Since I think it'd be pretty impossible to ship my cat overseas in a box, I went for the next best thing. What could better ring true of the American experience than a big, nasty quarter pounder with cheese and a side of fries? So, dear reader, I have sinned. And it was good. And it made me feel better about hitting myself in the face, too.
On a less graceless note, I had my first session with my third tutor on Wednesday. It's held all the way up and across the river at St. Catherine's college (pictured), which is much more modern than Hertford or any of the others I've visited. Large, airy, modular buildings. My tutor is different as well; first of all, he's the only male tutor I've had here, and he's a bit more traditional in the way he conducts our meetings. Instead of emailing him my essays in advance, I must bring two copies with me to each session, where I must read them aloud. He stops me every couple of sentences to discuss what I've said, and enlighten me on what I've gotten wrong. And I do get quite a bit wrong; I've never had much exposure to drama in the past, so I'm not very good at writing on it yet. I analyzed 12th Night in a literary way, and didn't address the aspects that are found only in plays. I'll get better, though; David's an interesting tutor, and not nearly as scary as I was fearing.
TJ and I went to the Botanic Gardens on Thursday. They're amazing! I'd seen them without realizing on my walk through Christ Church meadow many times, and had admired the flowers nearest the fence. Going in is a whole other experience though. I think my favorite areas were the greenhouses. They have a lily house, fern house, palm house, insectivore plant house, and cactus house. Perhaps even more wonderful, I found Tolkien's favorite tree at the back of the main section. It's a beautiful tree. It deserved a hug, definitely. The best part about the gardens is that I get in for free with my Oxford student card, so I can go back as often as I like. I absolutely plan on doing so, especially if we have more nice days like we did this week.
On Saturday, we went to London. This was one of the highlights of my trip thus far, I think, just because it was such a fun, relaxing day, and we got to see so much. We took the Oxford Tube bus to the city, (about an hour-and-forty-minute to two-hour ride,) and then booked an open-top doubledecker bus tour for the day. This was the best idea. While it's true that it was a very touristy experience, sometimes it's better to just admit that you're a tourist and go with it. We never would have seen as much as we did otherwise, and it allowed us to see a ton without getting worn out walking across the entire city. Westminster Abbey is probably what we saw most in-depth, though we also saw Big Ben and Parliament and got off at Piccadilly Circus, the Times Square of London. We thought about trying to see a show, but the best price for tickets we could find was 29£ for a show we weren't particularly interested in. Avenue Q would have been fun, but it was 44£ per person for the Saturday 4:30 showing, and that's a bit steep for college students on a budget. London's the kind of place that you absolutely can't do justice in a day, though, and I'd love to go back. If you want to see all my pictures, you can find them HERE. The first 30 or so are from the Natural History museum in Oxford, but once you get through those it's all London.
Tomorrow's my 21st birthday. Not sure exactly what I'm doing yet, but I think I may go to the Eagle and Child and have a pint or two. Should be a good day.
To wrap things up, here are Things I've Noticed:
I saw no street vendors in London. No gyro guys, no souvenir hawkers, not even a kebab stand. There were a couple of ice cream trucks, but that was it.
British people cannot take the sun. It hit 75 degrees (24 C) and was sunny yesterday, and I can't tell you how many people I saw with terrible sunburn. Personally, I found it delightful and didn't get any color at all.
While it's true that driving in all cities is stressful, I do have to say that at least the bus drivers in London are pretty awful. We actually dinged a traffic light at one point yesterday.
This country really is just swimming in baby animals at this time of year. I saw more foals, calves and lambs than I've seen in my entire life just on one direction of my trip to London.
Speaking of, there's been much less beef on a day-to-day basis, and much more lamb than I'm used to. I suppose it would have something to do with having a country that doesn't have nearly as much open grass space for cattle, so I guess what cows you have are mostly for dairy. You just don't have room to have an ever-reproducing supply of maturing meat wandering around.
Since I've settled down a bit into a more regular schedule, not every day holds exciting new experiences. As such, I think I'll start updating on a once-weekly basis, so as to not have a string of posts that consist primarily of "Today, I read a book."
Tutorials are going along better and better every week. I really enjoy both of them thus far, and this week I start my third, so I'm very much looking forward to that as well. I have to figure out how to get to it, though; it's held in a different college, one which I'm not acquainted with, so I'll have to do some exploring before Wednesday. Both Helena and Jennie seem to be liking my essays more and more, though, so I'm very pleased about that.
I did manage to have an adventure on Wednesday night. One of the ways to and from college involves going through the Christ Church meadows, and I like it very much because it's prettier than the main street. However, on Tuesday I was running a bit later than usual, and I only had about 10 minutes until the gates are supposed to be locked. Taking the risk, I walked briskly all the way to the exit near the Graduate Centre, behind Warnock house. On arriving, however, I found that the groundskeepers had been rather prompt, and with three minutes to spare the gate was already locked. I'm sure that there is another way out of Christ Church, and another way to get to where I needed to be, but suffice it to say that I knew neither.
This is how the gate is structured: a short iron fence skirts the river, and the gate, which is at least doubly as tall, blocks the bridge over the river. There's enough room on the wrong side of the fence to skirt along and get to bridge, except for another problem: there is a large spiked iron semi-circle that protrudes over the river, to keep people from doing exactly that. However, Justine, when finding herself locked out and on the wrong side of the river, will not be discouraged! To make an already too-long story shorter, I hopped the fence and made it to the protrusion. Bracing my feet on the bank, I managed to swing myself over the river and around so as to be able to reach the bridge. Particularly since I was wearing dress shoes and a heavy backpack, I felt victorious.
TJ arrived for his visit on Thursday. Everything there went very smoothly; I made it to Heathrow to pick him up in plenty of time, his flight was only half an hour late, and we made it back with no complications. He's only now getting over his jetlag, so we haven't gone exploring too much, but we have plans to go out to London and also check out the Botanical Gardens and Oxford Castle, at the least. I'm glad he's here.
Yesterday I had an unfortunate mishap. Cooking dinner for us late in the evening, the butter in my pan started to smoke. Mind you, it did not even smoke a tremendous amount; it wasn't burned, nothing was on fire, etc. However, the smoke alarm promptly went off. Beyond even this, the smoke alarms here happen to be linked, so not only did it go off in the first floor kitchen, but in every single room in the entire Graduate Centre. Fully abashed, I had to call the college lodge to track down our caretaker to turn it off; I think the alarms were on for a good 15 or 20 minutes. Pretty embarrassing at the time, but at least I can say I wasn't cooking something stupid like popcorn, and worse things have certainly happened: I could have actually set the kitchen on fire, and then would I feel worse!
Honestly, that's about all that's happened. Life here has settled down into more of a regular routine, and I like it very much. As much as people complain and warned me about the work load, I'm not overwhelmed. It's more work than home, but with a little dedication and time management, you can have great heaping helpings of free time as well.
To conclude, Things I've Noticed:
There's generally much less traffic both in the city and on the highways.
The days are MUCH longer here than at home: it doesn't get fully dark until almost 10, and the sun rises by 4ish.
They don't have frozen foods to the extent that we do; I could only find either fresh corn or canned, for instance.
I really must say that the tutorial system is much more fun than the American system of classes. Anyone who knows anything about me will know that that's saying something: I love William and Mary and actively enjoy classes there, so the fact that I find Oxford even more enjoyable is really telling. My tutes aren't quite the norm amongst normal Hertford students, in that I only have one-on-one sessions, while I've heard of others having two or three students in each. It's a very energizing system, though. In a class, there's the option to just sort of passively sit and not engage; I'm among the best of us who have occasionally spent an entire class surfing the internet or playing old N64 games on my laptop. (I can feel Nana disapproving from 3,500 miles away. Sorry, Nana! I don't do it often!) Tutorials pretty much wipe out that option, especially mine. The format generally for my first two has been the tutor saying, "I read your essay. I liked what you said here, but this bit is crap. Give me why you think this makes any sense at all." That's a bit exaggerated, but that's the basic format. I found it a little terrifying at first, and my first session pretty much involved me panicking and being entirely ineloquent, but by this Friday I found myself really looking forward to them. I had my third meeting with Helena at 11, and my first with Jennie at 2. Both went very well, though both emphasized that I need to include more knowledge of criticism in my papers. I honestly just didn't have time to read much this week; between the 870 page Bleak House, the 460 page The Moonstone and a 20-page poem, I felt myself lucky to have finished the primary material.
Choir was pretty awful this week; not that I didn't enjoy it, but that we were just kind of terrible for some reason. Numbers were low, and I think we were all frozen; not sure what else could account for it. Even the girl that I love to stand next to because she's both loud and right most of the time was making mistakes. We went to Noodle Bar after, though, and that was very nice. I don't think we have anything like it, at least not on the East coast. I had egg fried rice (which was just that, much plainer/paler than at home, without the sauce pre-mixed in,) with duck meat, onions and peppers in black bean sauce on the side. It was quite good, and if I can remember how to get there from the Grad Centre, I'll definitely go again. Afterward I let about six members into the MCR with me (they're all JCR and thus can't get in,) and we sat in front of the fire in the Octagon (pictured) and had tea. I'll have to take some pictures of the Octagon next time I'm in there; it's a pretty coveted place by all the undergrads who can't get in, with big comfy arm chairs, and a gas fireplace. Another room in the MCR has a Wii, plus free fruit and tea, which is very nice.
Saturday morning I had my family brunch! (A normal English brunch/breakfast is pictured, though the picture is not mine. It's pretty much exactly what you can get in Hall, though the tomatoes are not nearly so pretty as they are in the picture.) This is something that I'd forgotten to describe, I think, and it's both really strange and absolutely charming. Apparently, it's tradition that everyone gets a college family composed of other students upon matriculation. As in, you're given a "mother" and "father," who may or may not have other "children" that are your "siblings," and you may have "aunts" and "uncles" and everything. By the end of your last year you're pretty much "related" to everyone by "blood" or "marriage," so it's a fun way of relating to other students and providing a sense of community. Though, I must say, it's very odd to be introduced to someone with the phrase, "Oh, this is my daughter," and both the people are between 18 and 21 years of age. My father is J-L, who reads my blog (hi, J-L!) and my mother is Inge. I'd seen my father once at the ball, after he was pointed out to me by someone who already knew who he was, but I met Inge for the first time at the brunch. Arranged by Vanessa who has something to do with watching out for us International students, the four of us new William and Mary students had our family brunch all together where we all either met or hung out with our parents. It was nice! Inge's very busy with an Engineering group, so I was lucky to meet her, but they're both very nice and I like them very much. I'm not sure if this is a Hertford thing or an Oxford thing, though...
Yesterday I went to the coolest museum I have ever been to. The Natural History Museum in Oxford is amazing, and I can't wait to go back. The Smithsonian back home is trying to get rid of the idea that it's the Nation's attic, but the Natural History Museum and the Pitt-Rivers Museum here seem to revel in it. Natural history was full of interesting things, including dinosaurs everywhere, and Pitt-Rivers was much more about human history. It was definitely a sort of collection of Imperialist memorabilia, though; it pretty much yelled, "Hey! Look at all this cool stuff we picked up when we colonized pretty much the entire known world!" What was especially interesting is that, while museums back home organize things by culture, time period and then similarity, this museum pretty much focuses on similarity only. You'll find a mask from Peru next to a mask from Tahiti under a mask from colonial America, from the 1600s, pre-history and 1800s respectively, and they're all together just because they're masks. Even though the museum takes up very little space in terms of square footage, there's so much to see that even though we spent over two hours there, we barely scratched the surface. I plan on returning very soon.
Sorry about the day-late update! I was planning on doing it last night when I got home from evensong and dinner, but my internet died as I was uploading photos, and as the English say, I was "knackered," so I went to sleep instead.
As usual, to conclude, Things I've Noticed:
There are a lot of peas. I don't know if that's an English thing or a Hertford Hall cafeteria thing, but I've had peas at least four times a week.
What would be either "the check" or "the bill" at home is only "the bill" here. A cheque is a cheque and only a cheque.
"Urinal" = "yer-EYE-nul." Yeah, that's pretty odd to me.
You don't eat with your hands nearly as much here as you do at home. People seem to usually eat chips (fries, though I've only seen the big thick steak-fries type) with forks, and burgers are only hand-food at cheap places. (It's a sandwich! Its form was created by the Earl of Sandwich so that he could play cards and eat with his hands at the same time!)
Sausages are different here, as is bacon. Bacon here is more like ham at home, and sausages aren't just seasoned pig bits in a tube; it's pig bits and breadcrumbs and all sorts of other stuff. As J-L said today, cheap sausages are only about 10% pork, which I'm sure is an exaggeration, but the sausages I got from Sainsbury's in my first week pretty much tasted like it.
Breakfast includes beans, mushrooms and grilled tomatoes. I usually abstain from the beans, at least.
It's been an interesting few days since I last updated!
Sunday afternoon, I went to a talk featuring Philip Pullman and the Dean of Divinity. Philip Pullman is a really fantastic fantasy author; he wrote the His Dark Materials trilogy, which I adore. (My cat's named after the main character, actually. Well, technically; her real name's Lyra but we all call her Rara... but that's beside the point.) He's recently written another book called The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, which retells the Christ narrative as though Jesus and Christ were two separate people: twins, actually. Pullman is an atheist himself, so it's fascinating to see what he does with the story. I haven't read it yet myself, but it seems like it's quite good, and the Dean of Divinity wasn't too harsh with him when discussing it.
The talk itself was held at New College, which is actually quite near Hertford; I'd be surprised if we didn't share a wall or two with them, actually. It's a much grander college, with a tower and dark stone cloisters and whatnot; much larger than Hertford, too, I think. I got a bit lost afterward with my friend Nike, so we accidentally explored for a while, which was nice. The discussion was held in the main chapel, which was gorgeous; high, high, high ceilings, with stained glass windows and dark wooden pews. I didn't feel comfortable whipping out my bright pink camera and clicking away during the event, as there was a very respectful atmosphere throughout (and rightly so,) so I don't have any photographic evidence of the talk, but afterward...!
Afterward, there was a tea where Mr. Pullman sold and signed books. Conveniently enough, I'd happened to go to Blackwell's bookstore before the event and pick up a hardcover compilation of all three His Dark Materials books, so I waited patiently to get it signed. To my utter delight, not only did Mr. Pullman sign my book, we actually ended up having a fascinating conversation! I introduced myself and told him that I was studying at Oxford for the term; he asked what I was studying, and I told him, and we ended up discussing my thesis ideas! He held up the line to talk to me for... probably a good minute or so, and it was one of the most spectacular feelings. Thanks forever to Nike, who took this picture for me.
Last night was another interesting new experience. Apparently, over the course of the year, the principal of Hertford College arranges a buffet supper every week for students, so that by the end of the year every student is given the opportunity to dine with him. I was the first of the new William and Mary students to get an invitation, so I was sent to "scope it out" and prepare the others for their turns. Plus, who am I to reject free food? As always, there was a fair bit of awkward smalltalk, as I didn't know a single person there, but I soon latched on to a small group and made friends. The principal came and chatted with us over drinks before dinner, and we discussed the late Icelandic volcano; he had been stuck in New York for a conference, and I explained how I'd barely made it in. Dinner was quite good, though I actually spent considerably more time on the appetizer plates, and the evening honestly flew by; it certainly didn't seem like 9:00 when we were ushered out. Considering that I had a pretty brutal headache from reading for about eight and a half hours that day, it was very pleasant and I enjoyed it.
The weather's been a bit more tumultuous than our first week or so; back to being cold, and we've actually had rain. I was lucky the other night; I managed to get home just about five minutes before it began to pour rain. It's funny: British people aren't nearly as put out by rain as we are. It starts pouring down on their heads, and they just give a sour glance at the offending sky and continue on their way at the same pace in the same posture. I do actually really like when it rains and I'm in my room; I just crack the window, shut the curtains, and feel utterly cozy in my little accommodations. I'm not allowed to put anything up on the walls, but I've made it feel a little homier; a scarf draped over the chair, a few little posters propped up against the wall on the desk. I feel right at home.
I got my first real letter from home today, too; Aunt Lorene is just about the sweetest woman in the whole world, and my entire family should be immediately dispatched to tell her so.
To conclude, here are some more Things I've Noticed
British people love to dress up. Tuesday afternoon, going for coffee? TIME FOR A SPORTS COAT! (I actually love this, though I constantly feel under-dressed.)
The bad teeth thing is kind of true. It's not everybody, but particularly among the older generation, there are a bunch of not-so-pearly-whites. It's not just a class thing, either; there are some pretty respectable people I've met who could use a nice set of braces and a whitening strip.
The Golden Compass from the His Dark Materials trilogy is actually called Northern Lights. They changed it in the US because they didn't think we could handle titles with different forms; the other two are objects (The Subtle Knife, The Amber Spyglass.) I do appreciate the uniformity there, but I don't like that we're known as a country with obsessive compulsive disorder. (On that note, can someone tell me why the US has Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone and it's actually [...] the Philosopher's Stone?)
Quiet in libraries is a whole new level. I was told the other day, "I can't study in the Radcliffe Camera! It's so loud!" I'll just say that I think the Rad Cam is the quietest library I've ever been in.
All the green buses in Oxford are double-decker. I just noticed this today.
Well, I should be reading The Moonstone; I got through all 870 pages of Bleak House in three days, but there's more work to be done!
Sadly, I have no appropriate pictures for this entry! How boring! I'll have to do better for Wednesday.
We've started getting into the real swing of the academic part of term here now. I've written two 1,500 word essays thus far, and I'm working on the reading material for essays three and four, both due Friday. Since mid-April I've read Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë. I'm now working on Bleak House by Dickens, The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins, and "Christabel" by Coleridge, which is a poem that I've already read. There's some secondary reading to do there as well. Technically there's some to do with Bleak House as well, but since Bleak House is about 870 pages long in single-spaced size 14 Times New Roman font, I think I'll focus on the primary sources and count myself lucky to finish that.
Tutorials are going more smoothly already, though! I've met my second tutor, Jennie, from whom I'll be learning about Lesbian Literature starting this Friday, and she's very nice. I had a fantastic meeting with my Victorian Literature tutor, Helena, as well, the one that I felt a little off about on the first day. My second essay was much better (I knew it was even as I was writing it,) and she gave me some more concrete ways to make future ones even better. We had a really engaging conversation, and I felt like we both enjoyed it equally. That was very satisfying to me. It's funny, too, because we have our tutorial in this big room with a long table that could seat twelve comfortably, and it's just the two of us. We choose to sit at the small round table in the window instead, reasonably enough.
Some other visiting students and I went to a pub quiz on Thursday night. Pub quizzes are a very British thing, and are pretty much exactly what they sound like: a quiz game that takes place in a pub. The one we went to was at the Folly Bridge Pub just a little ways away from the Graduate Centre, and it had five rounds. The categories were General Knowledge, Food and Drink, Music, "Brothers," and Picture Identification. The questions are read out one by one, and you must mark your answers as a team on an answer sheet. You would think that a team of 7 students from William and Mary, Princeton and Northwestern all studying at Oxford would be able to handle a trivia game, wouldn't you?
You'd be mistaken. We came in absolutely last, partially because none of us know British culture beyond tidbits like Gordon Brown calling that woman a bigot last week and the show "Blackadder," which finished it's original run in 1989. We had a fantastic time, though, and we'll be sure to do it again, especially since the buy in is only a pound apiece. There were some gruff middle-aged men watching football when we came in who were none too pleased by the crowd of chattering Americans, but once the pub quiz began they cleared out and we felt as welcome as any British group would have.
I'm not only making American friends, but I will admit that it's easier to do so. There's a little bit of culture shock between the British and the Americans, where a lot of my conversations just end up feeling a little awkward because we're not relating to each other in the way the other is used to. The choir is providing me with several really nice acquaintances, though, and they've generally been an exception to the awkward rule. I've met others whom have been wonderful, as well. I've noticed it's also easier to make friends with the Canadians here, so it's not just that either the British or we Americans are xenophobic; there's just some weird little social cues that we don't quite share, and it's taking a little bit to overcome it. I'm optimistic, though.
Something very cool is that later today, I get to hear Philip Pullman speak. He'll be discussing his new book mostly, which I haven't read, but I really enjoyed the His Dark Materials series. Pullman is a strong atheist, and the discussion is between him and the Dean of Divinity. The book is titled, "The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ." I'm intrigued, to say the least. I'll see if maybe I can't stop by Blackwell's before the talk to pick up a copy of The Golden Compass for him to sign; there's only 40 or so people attending, (limited space,) and there's tea afterward, so I may get a chance to speak with him directly. Here's hoping!
Things I've Noticed:
Kiwis (the fruit, not the people) are more common here. They seem to be one of the generic fruit basket staples: bananas, apples, pears, plums and kiwis.
Girl-pants button on the wrong side (button on left, buttonhole on right). I'm always really confused for a minute when I put on my UK jeans in the morning while I'm still groggy.
Size numbers are way higher. I'm a size 12 in UK sizes, but a 4 or 5 in US sizes.
I'm not sure if it's the water or the shampoo or what here, but I have to wash my hair at least twice as frequently as I do at home.
When a sign in a shop says "3 for 2," it means "3 for the price of 2," not "3 for £2." I have been sadly disappointed more than once, let me tell you.
While most things (when taking the exchange rate into account) are more expensive, groceries are less.
Not much has happened in terms of new experiences since I last updated, so I'll spend the majority of this post delving a bit into the particulars of Oxford that make it so unique. A few little things did happen, though, so we'll start with that.
I had my first evensong with the choir on Sunday night, and really enjoyed it a lot. I think my favorite part, though, other than the singing itself, was the sheer formal procedure of it all. Choir practice begins at 4:00, and goes until around 5:00 or shortly after. Evensong begins at 5:25 and goes until perhaps 6:30, maybe slightly later. This is followed by drinks in a common room by the SCR, which leads directly into Formal Hall. Formal Hall is a bi-weekly tradition open to all students of the college, but which costs £7 normally. For the choir, it is free. It consists of a formal three-course meal, served to you at the long tables in the college hall by waiters. Formal dress (suits and dresses) is required, and traditions must be observed: when the gavel is struck, attendees rise for the entry of the honored guests. They sit only when they have seated themselves. We rise again when the gavel is struck and the honorees desire to leave, and may either regain our seats or leave once they have left the room. Finally, after Formal Hall, there's coffee back in the room where we had drinks, and everyone chats and has a wonderful time. The whole experience from start to finish lasts about 5 or 6 hours, and I found it delightful. Back home, the most formal we get on a regular basis is weddings, funerals and prom, and those happen, with any luck, rarely indeed.
The only other happening of note was my solitary adventure to a pub for lunch today. I'd been an idiot and left my Bod Card (Oxford ID card) in my other pants pocket, and found myself unable to study in the library of my choice, or eat lunch in hall. As I live a brisk 20-minutes' walk from college, I decided I'd rather just study elsewhere and fend for myself rather than retrace my steps and lose valuable reading time. I set out to forage around 1:00, and went to the White Horse pub on Broad street. They advertise their "bar food" as being available all day, and the items listed seemed both palatable and cheap, so I went inside. I'm very glad I did! Mussels in white wine sauce were the special of the day, so I set myself up with a matching glass of wine, the entree and tea afterwards for just under £11. Not only was the food delicious, (though I had to wait rather a while; there was a problem with the till that kept my order from going back to the kitchen until a good 10 minutes had passed, and the place was busy,) but I also met a charming British family visiting Oxford. The dad, (of about a grandpa-ish age,) was especially funny, and he and I had a funny conversation after he noticed my predicament with the food. They were all very nice, though they didn't get my name nor I theirs, and it made my lunch all the more enjoyable. I ended up killing more than an hour at the pub, but I can't say that my studies suffered too badly for the break.
Now, for some general information about Oxford; some of you have expressed interest, and who am I to deny my small-but-dedicated audience?
Hertford College is one of many, many (I've heard both the figure 38 and "more than 40,") colleges and programs within the greater beast that is Oxford University. Each college has around 500 students, give or take, so the total number of students at Oxford is pretty huge. My college is not necessarily the poshest or most rigorous, but it's known for having a very friendly atmosphere. Though it's laid back in comparison to some of the others, its students still score very well on their examinations, and I wouldn't say that it's a party school in the same way that you would about some in America. Students here still work very hard, and they take their work seriously when it comes down to it.
Exams at Oxford are terrifying. From what I've been led to believe, you take your exams in your final year (the third year of study for an undergraduate degree,) and they judge you on pretty much everything from those three years. Students here get incredibly stressed about these tests, and you can well imagine why. Students are also required to wear formal academic robes (think Harry Potter) when taking their exams, and they wear a carnation of a certain color for each. White signifies your first exam, and red signifies your last; it's red to symbolize the blood dripping out of your heart as you complete your last excruciating test. Alarming, no? When you're done with your last, your friends will often help you trash your gown. It's apparently officially outlawed by the college, but people do it anyway. It involves covering the lucky (?) student in all sorts of detritus once they've completed the last test, and celebrating to the fullest extent possible.
Since I shouldn't spend all my time waxing rhapsodic on the glories of Oxford, I'll bring up something a little less positive that I've noticed. Perhaps it is to be expected, but there's a great deal of un-self conscious privilege here. I mean this in the sense that there are a large number of people who have never wanted for anything, and haven't much thought about it either way. I'm sure that's a lovely way to live, but it makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Growing up as I have, I've known people who've really struggled; I've been in tough spots myself. Perhaps I'm taking a shallow view of the people I'm talking about, but it really does seem like some people have never really spared a thought for those who have less money, or who are even of different situations than they've had. Maybe that's an American thing; rich guilt, white guilt, elite guilt... but I won't say that I think self-awareness is a bad thing. As beautiful as this life is, I'm glad I know a good deal of Something Else, too. I'm grateful for what I have, and I'm always working for more; I don't expect it.
Things I've Noticed:
People start their nights way, way earlier here. Drinking may commence as early as 7 or 8, but they also finish much earlier. Most pubs close at 11, and to find anything open past 2 AM is a surprise. In fact, even shops close early; everything interesting is closed at 5, and if you want food after 8 PM you're pretty much confined to G&D's (an ice cream and bagel shop that's open late,) or the kabob vans.
Kabob vans are everywhere at night. They have everything from meat and sauce on pita bread to french fries with cheese and burgers. I haven't eaten their food yet, but I've heard it's pretty delicious after a night on the town when you're starving at 1 o'clock in the morning. UPDATE: Seriously the best cheeseburger I think I've ever eaten, anywhere, ever, came from Mehdi's kabob van on High Street tonight. Absolutely fantastic. Plus, the nice Pakistani man gave me free chips, (fries to us Americans.)
No one expects me to drink tea, especially not proper English Earl Grey. I happen to like tea, and drink it even at home, but I suppose the stereotype that we Americans only drink coffee is a well-established one.
The young people are even more fashion-conscious than at home. You rarely see anyone under the age of 25 in a plain t-shirt, though it's not particularly out of place.
All the young people are skinny. Well, maybe not skinny, but very few have been what I would call "fat." This isn't true of the older generation, but I'd be hard pressed to name a single fat British student that I've met here.
I think that's enough for now! Forgive me if I sound a little less enthused than normal; I usually update earlier in the day when my energy is high, and as I've been reading for about 7 hours, I'm a bit tired. Still quite enthused with my situation and ecstatic to be here, but tired. I plan to update again sometime soon! I seem to have begun a sort of rudimentary schedule that has me posting on Wednesdays and Sundays, and as I see no inconvenience in this, I see no reason to discontinue it. Be well!
It's again been a busy few days since I updated! I'll try to address things in order, then explain a bit more about how Oxford works, and give a few more "Things I've Noticed."
I had my first tutorial on Thursday afternoon. It went pretty well, but I know there's substantial room for improvement. I just felt like my tutor and I weren't entirely on the same page, as though she were trying to guide me to some greater point in the conversation and I just wasn't following her. It didn't help that she was analyzing a favorite book of mine in ways that had never even occurred to me, and operating as though I had a working knowledge of British Victorian-era law. Suffice it to say that I don't, and so her repeated references of the Divorce Act lead to much internal brain-scrambling and contextualizing on my part while still trying to sound at least moderately literate. I wasn't discouraged, though, and know I'll get better at it; as Josephine has told us more than once, "If you were already good at this, you wouldn't need to be here!"
After, I went shopping to lift my spirits from the degree or so they'd fallen, and got these wonderful vintage-style posters. I won't go into too much detail, but the main one is from a poster campaign Britain released during World War II, with the most wonderful being the pictured one here. It was only to be released should the Germans invade Britain, and since that never happened, they were never put out. A few years ago someone found one shoved in an old book, and some more were discovered in a warehouse, and they're just so intensely British that they sort of went viral. I bought this one, as well as a blue one that says "Dig for Victory," (encouraging victory gardens,) and a yellow parody one where the crown is upside down that says "Now Panic and Freak Out." I like them, and plan on having them framed and put in my living room when I get home.
Anyway, the next important thing was my first Choir rehearsal. It's held in the Chapel, and mandatory rehearsals are Friday evenings and Sundays, with Sunday also having choral evensong. I liked it very much. I'm a decent sight-reader, so I don't think I did too dreadfully, and having a more experienced singer on my right was very helpful. I should have anticipated this, but didn't; singing in Latin is particularly hard. Only one of the songs we sang Sunday was, but since I've never had to do it, it threw me off. I'll get used to it, though. Exposure will make me better! The choir had pizza and wine after, and I really enjoyed their company. Grace, the organ scholar, is particularly nice, and I made several other acquaintances with whom I hope to form more lasting friendships.
Perhaps most exciting was the ball last night. Unfortunately for you, I didn't take many pictures, because I was having too much fun enjoying myself without a camera glued to my face! I did take a few, however, as did other people, so they should find their way onto facebook relatively soon where I can steal them for my own nefarious purposes. As a reminder, all my Oxford pictures thus far can be found HERE, and that link will be updated to a maximum selection of 200 photos. After that, I'll have to start another, and will inform you all accordingly.
Anyway, the ball. The theme was "Gala of the Gods," which seemed to have no influence on the proceedings other than to provide a pretty cool name. It was a relatively formal affair; "black tie" with slightly loosened requirements; knee-length cocktail dresses were permitted, and many girls pushed that envelope so far that it ceased to be an envelope at all, and became simply a piece of paper. More on that later, actually, in the Things I've Noticed. I wore a dress given to me by Nana, actually. If my purse hadn't sprung open mid-photo, this would be a pretty good picture as well. Anyway, there was a champagne reception with strawberries (really good strawberries!) in OB Quad, pictured above, and then we all moved as a group to the Oxford Union for the ball proper. Then ensued a good deal of madness.
Apparently the event planners hadn't realized that by around 9:00, after standing around drinking champagne and eating nothing but strawberries for an hour and a half, most of the guests would be hungry. The "queue" for the food table was ridiculous, in that those of us who had the mingled fortune and misfortune to be nearest the front were instantly crushed half to death by a swelling throng of eager and mildly inebriated college students. This is where I met one of my new friends for the evening, in that I was jammed up against his back for the better part of half an hour. As he remarked, "We're British, damnit! We should know how to queue!" I actually didn't mind too much, other than having my feet stepped on, and eventually food was had.
There was dancing, and rather a lot of drinking, and everyone seemed to have a very good time. I met someone who wore a waistcoat complete with pocket watch, and I had ouzo for the first time; I found it really good! The music ranged from 50's-60's era American rock and roll to techno later on, and the cover band was quite good, despite the oddity of hearing "Great Balls of Fire" from a singer with a British accent. My feet were hurting pretty intensely by about 12:30, so I ended up leaving before the silent disco, (apparently they shut off all the music and give everyone wireless headsets that play the music that way; I'm not sure entirely what the appeal would be there, maybe someone can explain the novelty to me?) I walked back to the Grad Centre with two other visiting students from Princeton, and hung around while they got "chips and cheese" from a kabob van. (Chips and cheese does not equal cheesefries back home; it's french fries with shredded cheese and ketchup on top.) All in all, it was a very good evening, and a great introduction to a very "Oxbridge" kind of tradition.
A note on Oxford, from Wikipedia:
As a collegiate university, Oxford's structure can be confusing to those unfamiliar with it. The university is a federation: it comprises over forty self-governing colleges and halls, along with a central administration headed by the Vice-Chancellor. The academic departments are located centrally within this structure; they are not affiliated with any particular college. Departments provide facilities for teaching and research, determine the syllabi and guidelines for the teaching of students, perform research, and deliver lectures and seminars. Colleges arrange the tutorial teaching for their undergraduates. The members of an academic department are spread around many colleges; though certain colleges do have subject alignments (e.g. Nuffield College as a centre for the social sciences), these are exceptions, and most colleges will have a broad mix of academics and students from a diverse range of subjects. Facilities such as libraries are provided on all these levels: by the central university (the Bodleian), by the departments (individual departmental libraries, such as the English Faculty Library), and by colleges (each of which maintains a multi-discipline library for the use of its members).
For those of you with the "tl;dr" mentality, here are the ever-popular Things I've Noticed:
Dresses here can be way, way, way shorter than at home. Oh, you'll still get the judging eye of your peers cast upon you, but people are much more willing to wear the shortest of short skirts I think I've ever seen.
A lot of fathers wear those silly baby-strapped-to-your-chest thing. I see it on moms at home, but it seems to be more of a dad thing here. Not really sure why.
People don't really keep their dogs on leashes, except the tiniest dogs. The bigger and more exuberant the dog, the more likely it is to be running loose a good 50 feet ahead of its owner.
British people, the choir particularly, love to dissect accents. My pronunciation of the word "Chilean" (chill-AY-an,) just about started a revolution. (Apparently, it's CHILLY-en here.)
Last, for your edification, a video I took of my normal walk to Oxford; it's precisely 10 minutes long and has really terrible editing because I had to cut it down; youtube didn't like my 13 minute long video. The part where it goes black is where I'm sneaking into the Radcliffe Camera.
And yes, as TJ spoiled, a scout is a cleaning woman. I'll update again soon!
