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?

Of Families and Museums

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.
  

Of the Particulars of Oxford Itself

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!

Of Tutorials, Balls and Choir, oh my!

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!