Of Tutorials, Talks, and Total Washouts

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.

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!