Of Marks, Dinners and The End

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. 

Until next time, Oxford...

Of Graves and Drag Queens

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.

Of Gardens, Flames and the Beginning of the End

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?