It’s the end of September and Oxford weather has set in just in time for me to leave the country for a while. The skies are grey and dreary, but that only serves to enhance many of the city’s charms (like the beautiful old buildings, students on bikes, umbrella clad couples and benches in the parks). After much deliberation and quite a few trips to the laundry room I decided to go on a much-needed and long-avoided jog. How soon I forget the pleasure of a good run. It was misting outside (the weather here being most mercurial) and smelled of autumn. You know that scent of smoking wood and crisp washed air, the smell that conjures thoughts of pumpkins and the feeling of chunky sweaters? That’s the one. The University parks are perhaps my favorite place to commune with God and his creation, what with the aged trees, dripping willows, geese and ducks on the pond, winding paths and rod-iron bridges. My iPod provided fabulous background.
I leave for Rome at approximately midnight (actually it will be later than that, but close enough). I’m not sure how I’ll like living out of a backpack, but it might be rather adventurous. I've received lots of advice and am hoping to implement as much as possible.
Thursday I went to the Imperial War Museum. I walked through the "First World War," "The Children's War," and "The Holocaust" exhibits. Wow. What a lot to take in. I was able to experience walking through the trenches at night, which was a moving experience. I also walked through a model of a British home at the time of the Blitz and a traincar similar to the ones used to transport Jews to concentration camps. The whole day was rather thought-provoking, particularly in terms of what it means to be human and how clearly that shows through when all else is stripped away.
When I return from my time in Italy I'll begin attending Oxford lectures and starting my tutorials (C.S. Lewis and Creative Writing). More on that when it actually commences. I must now catch a bus.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
buckets of photos
The following link should allow you to access my photos of Oxford and my birthday. I'll work on posting more.
http://s231.photobucket.com/albums/ee265/akuehn/
http://s231.photobucket.com/albums/ee265/akuehn/
The Best of Birthdays
Yesterday was a day that I will not soon forget. Though I experienced a fabulous evening prior to and an amazing day of surprises a week following my birthday last fall, September 24, 2007 was perhaps the best of birthdays thus far. It was all that a 21st birthday ought to be (though far from what a 21st birthday “typically” is). In order to cement this day of days into my memory I will be relating it in detail. I hope you enjoy vicariously sharing the day with me.
I woke surprisingly early (6.00) due, perhaps, to excitement or possibly to my new room arrangement. I was a bit restless so went for an early walk in the mist, which soon turned to rain. After a wet and refreshing jaunt and dance around the block I threw my sweatshirt in the dryer and proceeded to some journaling. Breakfast was fresh-baked cinnamon bread (courtesy of my floormates Megan, Carri and Laura), British strawberries, and french-press coffee (courtesy of Pearson). I got some work done and set off through the park toward class with Pearson. Following a little work in the library I enjoyed a chicken salad and waited for my companions to return home.
There’s something very rebellious about taking a trip to London in the middle of the day while all your classmates hit the libraries and work on their essays. There is a lot to be said for doing things simply because “I’m in Oxford, and I can.” So I did. At 2.30 Alicia, Bethany and I headed for the ATM and the bus station. By the time we’d hoofed our way to the other end of town (passing the bag pipe player and the sidewalk artist) I regretted my decision to wear the impractical yet stylish boots I purchased last week. As we walked on I soon realized I wasn’t going to make it, what with one of my toenails cutting into its neighboring toe. Not sure where we were (or where we were going rather), we detoured to Primark (high selection, questionable quality, but low prices) to pick up a pair of (also impractical, but more comfortable) white flats. We did happen upon the bus station in time, boarded for London and made our way to the front row of the top floor of the bus. Boots off, camera flashing (and a slight desire to grab the rail in front of me as though I were on a roller coaster), I was ready for the rest of my special day. I watched the hills pass by covered in trees, speckled with sheep and glazed by the sun as it began an early decent. The day was a beautiful one.
It was about an hour into our journey that my outlook changed. The “Oxford tube,” which is actually a bus, referred to as a coach, and neither underground nor fast as the subway system tends to be, usually takes about 1.45 hours to get to London. Due to what I assume was a rather nasty accident, coupled with rush hour traffic, our trip was 3.00 hours long, putting us in London (hungry and in desperate need of tickets for a 19.30 show) at 18.30. My poor roommates had to endure my rather intense displeasure at this turn of events. Being at a standstill in three lanes of traffic with absolutely no control over your ETA is not pleasant for someone of my temperament. I couldn’t understand why, on my one special day, things must go awry. Having only recently realized the need to alter our plans, we missed getting off at the first stop. 20 agonizing minutes later we exchanged one dilemma for another. Two maps and two navigators and still we weren’t sure how to get to the tube station (by this point walking to the theater – and dinner in general – were out of the question). After becoming a little too well acquainted with oncoming cars we stood in line for our tube tickets and grabbed the train. Aside from the half dozen stops between Notting Hill Gate and Holborn it was smooth sailing (I thought).
We reached our final stop at 19.00, just in time to run to the theater and hope for last minute tickets. But fate had another surprise in store. I had paid 3 pounds for my one-way ticket, enough to travel but apparently not to get out. One pound and I’d be free, except for the fact that no one would help me (or the kind London-hater beside me). My roommates already on the other side of the gate I spent 10 minutes realizing why London’s tube employees are not know for being accommodating. Four of them directed me to the correct window, none would actually help me or let me through. But my advocate (the London-hater) and I were freed in due time.
Back to the problem of two maps that didn’t agree on how we should get to Drury Lane. Rather grateful that I had procured my white flats I literally ran down the streets (still not knowing where I was going) until we happened upon Fortune Theater. At 19.20 I offered a plea of desperation to the relaxed man in the box office. Three top-price tickets were procured (for half price nonetheless) for the 20.00 show – a half an hour to spare. Great sighs of relief filled the air. After a drink and bathroom break a thrilling show of The Woman in Black began. Our seats were great, and we even upgraded at intermission. I highly suggest checking it out at http://www.thewomaninblack.com/, not that you’ll all be in London anytime soon, nor would you experience the blood-curdling scream I let out at the climax.
Following the show three hungry girls were ready for drinks and appetizers, maybe coffee and dessert as well. With no destination in mind we decided to walk in the direction of the bus station. Before making it a block Bethany spied a corner bedecked with foliage and twinkle lights. A menu was posted outside so we decided to check it out. The garlic mushrooms and 28 pound wine list wasn’t all that appealing. Ready to leave we caught the eye of a charming Mediterranean doorman. “Why don’t you just come in and have a look?” he offered. Finding no harm in it, we opted to step inside and make our next decision. A mistake? Not at all. It was as though we had set foot in heaven (or possibly a pit of temptation, we hadn’t decided). (Check out Sarastro at http://www.sarastro-restaurant.com/indexfr.html)
An Asian waiter came up to us. “You watch out for him,” said the doorman. “Oh he is just jealous because I am so much more attractive” remarked the waiter. Their subtle banter was well received. “Table for…?” “Three” I replied. As we turned to follow the waiter the doorman remarked, “But I thought you were only going to have a look.” “We decided to take a long look,” I responded. Our waiter took us through paradise and into a gold draped booth complete with velor tablecloths and napkins, low lighting, reclining pillows and exquisite décor. “What are we celebrating?” he asked. “Her 21st birthday” responded Alicia. “Oh!” he said leaning over to embrace me, “may I kiss you?”
The evening only got better. After some brief discussion regarding how much we would have to pay for this elaborate experience the waiter returned. “What will you have to drink? The first drink is on the house.” On his recommendation we selected white wine. Along with our wine came bread, a plate of carrots and olives, and an amazing dipping creation. Realizing that we were young women from America, or perhaps just taken with our charm and beauty, our waiter played the whole night up for us, at one point asking, “When do you return to Oxford? The clubs are open until 7.00.” We proceeded to order a cheese platter and a dish of crème de brulee, being warned by our waitress that the platter was sizable. She came back with sesame bread twists, a red pepper, tomato and enough cheese to feed at least four people. Sometime after we’d been quite satisfied another waiter came up to us carrying a large, very large, fruit platter, “compliments of your Asian friend.” We were speechless and giddy at the same time. “I don’t feel like I should touch it or they’re going to charge us for it,” Bethany kept saying, but touch it we did. The forbidden fruit was fabulous. Knowing there was no way we could finish the platter (and not wanting our new friend to think us ungrateful), we slipped it into my purse piece by piece.
Most satisfied with the night and the meal, we asked for the check. Sure enough we were charged 9.50 (5 pounds for the cheese, 4.50 for the dessert). Amazing! Wanting to slip away before we were charged more (or asked what happened to the whole pineapple on the table), we made our exit. Our Asian friend followed us, “No, no, don’t go please.” He was too slow. With 4 oranges, 6 apples, 2 bananas and a whole pineapple along for the ride, we trapsed down the streets of London. An enjoyable conversation about boyfriends and dating experiences, interrupted by the occasional “hey ladies” and other catcalls from construction workers and club-seekers, filled the long walk to the bus stop. “We totally just got hit on several times, we should go out more often.”
The same murmuring and rather foreign bus driver that had brought us to London took us back to Oxford. We arrived around 2, and began making the walk home, but not without “Can I ask you a question? Really, I’m not a bad guy,” from a local out with his friends and a “Hey sexy” from someone working on getting his car jumped. Most of the fruit platter made it home (with one banana as a casualty). After checking facebook and accepting birthday wishes from my family it was time for bed.
Pictures of the excursion can be found here:http://s231.photobucket.com/albums/ee265/akuehn/21st%20Birthday/?start=all
Enjoy
I woke surprisingly early (6.00) due, perhaps, to excitement or possibly to my new room arrangement. I was a bit restless so went for an early walk in the mist, which soon turned to rain. After a wet and refreshing jaunt and dance around the block I threw my sweatshirt in the dryer and proceeded to some journaling. Breakfast was fresh-baked cinnamon bread (courtesy of my floormates Megan, Carri and Laura), British strawberries, and french-press coffee (courtesy of Pearson). I got some work done and set off through the park toward class with Pearson. Following a little work in the library I enjoyed a chicken salad and waited for my companions to return home.
There’s something very rebellious about taking a trip to London in the middle of the day while all your classmates hit the libraries and work on their essays. There is a lot to be said for doing things simply because “I’m in Oxford, and I can.” So I did. At 2.30 Alicia, Bethany and I headed for the ATM and the bus station. By the time we’d hoofed our way to the other end of town (passing the bag pipe player and the sidewalk artist) I regretted my decision to wear the impractical yet stylish boots I purchased last week. As we walked on I soon realized I wasn’t going to make it, what with one of my toenails cutting into its neighboring toe. Not sure where we were (or where we were going rather), we detoured to Primark (high selection, questionable quality, but low prices) to pick up a pair of (also impractical, but more comfortable) white flats. We did happen upon the bus station in time, boarded for London and made our way to the front row of the top floor of the bus. Boots off, camera flashing (and a slight desire to grab the rail in front of me as though I were on a roller coaster), I was ready for the rest of my special day. I watched the hills pass by covered in trees, speckled with sheep and glazed by the sun as it began an early decent. The day was a beautiful one.
It was about an hour into our journey that my outlook changed. The “Oxford tube,” which is actually a bus, referred to as a coach, and neither underground nor fast as the subway system tends to be, usually takes about 1.45 hours to get to London. Due to what I assume was a rather nasty accident, coupled with rush hour traffic, our trip was 3.00 hours long, putting us in London (hungry and in desperate need of tickets for a 19.30 show) at 18.30. My poor roommates had to endure my rather intense displeasure at this turn of events. Being at a standstill in three lanes of traffic with absolutely no control over your ETA is not pleasant for someone of my temperament. I couldn’t understand why, on my one special day, things must go awry. Having only recently realized the need to alter our plans, we missed getting off at the first stop. 20 agonizing minutes later we exchanged one dilemma for another. Two maps and two navigators and still we weren’t sure how to get to the tube station (by this point walking to the theater – and dinner in general – were out of the question). After becoming a little too well acquainted with oncoming cars we stood in line for our tube tickets and grabbed the train. Aside from the half dozen stops between Notting Hill Gate and Holborn it was smooth sailing (I thought).
We reached our final stop at 19.00, just in time to run to the theater and hope for last minute tickets. But fate had another surprise in store. I had paid 3 pounds for my one-way ticket, enough to travel but apparently not to get out. One pound and I’d be free, except for the fact that no one would help me (or the kind London-hater beside me). My roommates already on the other side of the gate I spent 10 minutes realizing why London’s tube employees are not know for being accommodating. Four of them directed me to the correct window, none would actually help me or let me through. But my advocate (the London-hater) and I were freed in due time.
Back to the problem of two maps that didn’t agree on how we should get to Drury Lane. Rather grateful that I had procured my white flats I literally ran down the streets (still not knowing where I was going) until we happened upon Fortune Theater. At 19.20 I offered a plea of desperation to the relaxed man in the box office. Three top-price tickets were procured (for half price nonetheless) for the 20.00 show – a half an hour to spare. Great sighs of relief filled the air. After a drink and bathroom break a thrilling show of The Woman in Black began. Our seats were great, and we even upgraded at intermission. I highly suggest checking it out at http://www.thewomaninblack.com/, not that you’ll all be in London anytime soon, nor would you experience the blood-curdling scream I let out at the climax.
Following the show three hungry girls were ready for drinks and appetizers, maybe coffee and dessert as well. With no destination in mind we decided to walk in the direction of the bus station. Before making it a block Bethany spied a corner bedecked with foliage and twinkle lights. A menu was posted outside so we decided to check it out. The garlic mushrooms and 28 pound wine list wasn’t all that appealing. Ready to leave we caught the eye of a charming Mediterranean doorman. “Why don’t you just come in and have a look?” he offered. Finding no harm in it, we opted to step inside and make our next decision. A mistake? Not at all. It was as though we had set foot in heaven (or possibly a pit of temptation, we hadn’t decided). (Check out Sarastro at http://www.sarastro-restaurant.com/indexfr.html)
An Asian waiter came up to us. “You watch out for him,” said the doorman. “Oh he is just jealous because I am so much more attractive” remarked the waiter. Their subtle banter was well received. “Table for…?” “Three” I replied. As we turned to follow the waiter the doorman remarked, “But I thought you were only going to have a look.” “We decided to take a long look,” I responded. Our waiter took us through paradise and into a gold draped booth complete with velor tablecloths and napkins, low lighting, reclining pillows and exquisite décor. “What are we celebrating?” he asked. “Her 21st birthday” responded Alicia. “Oh!” he said leaning over to embrace me, “may I kiss you?”
The evening only got better. After some brief discussion regarding how much we would have to pay for this elaborate experience the waiter returned. “What will you have to drink? The first drink is on the house.” On his recommendation we selected white wine. Along with our wine came bread, a plate of carrots and olives, and an amazing dipping creation. Realizing that we were young women from America, or perhaps just taken with our charm and beauty, our waiter played the whole night up for us, at one point asking, “When do you return to Oxford? The clubs are open until 7.00.” We proceeded to order a cheese platter and a dish of crème de brulee, being warned by our waitress that the platter was sizable. She came back with sesame bread twists, a red pepper, tomato and enough cheese to feed at least four people. Sometime after we’d been quite satisfied another waiter came up to us carrying a large, very large, fruit platter, “compliments of your Asian friend.” We were speechless and giddy at the same time. “I don’t feel like I should touch it or they’re going to charge us for it,” Bethany kept saying, but touch it we did. The forbidden fruit was fabulous. Knowing there was no way we could finish the platter (and not wanting our new friend to think us ungrateful), we slipped it into my purse piece by piece.
Most satisfied with the night and the meal, we asked for the check. Sure enough we were charged 9.50 (5 pounds for the cheese, 4.50 for the dessert). Amazing! Wanting to slip away before we were charged more (or asked what happened to the whole pineapple on the table), we made our exit. Our Asian friend followed us, “No, no, don’t go please.” He was too slow. With 4 oranges, 6 apples, 2 bananas and a whole pineapple along for the ride, we trapsed down the streets of London. An enjoyable conversation about boyfriends and dating experiences, interrupted by the occasional “hey ladies” and other catcalls from construction workers and club-seekers, filled the long walk to the bus stop. “We totally just got hit on several times, we should go out more often.”
The same murmuring and rather foreign bus driver that had brought us to London took us back to Oxford. We arrived around 2, and began making the walk home, but not without “Can I ask you a question? Really, I’m not a bad guy,” from a local out with his friends and a “Hey sexy” from someone working on getting his car jumped. Most of the fruit platter made it home (with one banana as a casualty). After checking facebook and accepting birthday wishes from my family it was time for bed.
Pictures of the excursion can be found here:http://s231.photobucket.com/albums/ee265/akuehn/21st%20Birthday/?start=all
Enjoy
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Home at Last
Today my roomies and I finally rearranged our room. For the past three weeks it has been entirely too "functional," basically a room with furniture randomly placed. Though it remains a room with furniture randomly placed about, WE are the ones who placed it where it is and so it feels intentional. I've finally put up the photos I brought with me as well. They make a pretty decent sized mural above my bed. Anyway, now our room feels like "home." My desk still faces the window, which makes me happy as it allowed me to watch the rain fall as I wrote letters this afternoon before tea. I have a good amount of work to do on a 2500 word essay I haven't really researched yet, but Sundays were not made for work.
The other "home" I found today was at St. Andrew's. Though I've attended and enjoyed Evensong and Mass at several high Anglican churches they just don't feed my soul the way that contemporary Evangelical worship does. I'm quite at home at St. Andrew's and look forward to Discuss again this week. How wonderful to know that Jesus lives in England too.
The other "home" I found today was at St. Andrew's. Though I've attended and enjoyed Evensong and Mass at several high Anglican churches they just don't feed my soul the way that contemporary Evangelical worship does. I'm quite at home at St. Andrew's and look forward to Discuss again this week. How wonderful to know that Jesus lives in England too.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Tea Time
Just so we're clear on this, I drink tea. A lot. More than I ever did in the States. Kara Joy would love living here. Tea is usually served whenever possible, but especially on Sunday afternoons (here at Crick that is). We drink black tea (PG tips to be specific) with milk and sugar (these make a huge difference in the taste and temperature of the tea). Often tea is served with cookies called Digestives. They're round and flat and sometimes have chocolate on one side. We also have Hob Nobs, which are more of an oat cookie, also round and flat. Tea cakes can be a number of shapes, sizes and varieties, and often resemble Little Debbie Swiss Rolls. Fruit is sometimes served as well. Jonathan's other favorite tea treat is twiglets. Twiglets look like twigs, are made of yeast and wheat and taste unlike anything you've ever had before. Tea is best when shared with a friend or a good conversation. The only downside is...well, I'm sure someone could find one.
Saturday in the Park
I spent most of this morning and early afternoon in the Bodleian - an enormous and intimidating library - doing research. Though the Duke Humphrey room that I was in was astoudingly beautiful what with its archaic books, large portraits, countless bookshelves and incredible detail, it can't compare to what God had for me in the park at the end of my rather short (I'm out of shape) run. Honestly, I can't believe that I was really experiencing what I was where I was.
The University Parks where I run are beautiful - tall, old trees, willows, ponds, people punting in long boats, swans, ducks, families, park benches, lamp posts. If it's picturesque, it's in the park. I was overcome by this longing to be a part of this amazing scenery. A couple walked in front of me holding hands and pausing to softly kiss as their black lab trotted along ahead, snooping out the falling leaves and taking in the early evening air. A family (framed in sweeping tree branches) was out on a walk - father in his sports jacket, mother in a shrot white sweater, the kids happily scampering about and even a terrior accompanying them. What a blessing to see small glimpses of these British lives. It's moments like those that I never want to come home.
The University Parks where I run are beautiful - tall, old trees, willows, ponds, people punting in long boats, swans, ducks, families, park benches, lamp posts. If it's picturesque, it's in the park. I was overcome by this longing to be a part of this amazing scenery. A couple walked in front of me holding hands and pausing to softly kiss as their black lab trotted along ahead, snooping out the falling leaves and taking in the early evening air. A family (framed in sweeping tree branches) was out on a walk - father in his sports jacket, mother in a shrot white sweater, the kids happily scampering about and even a terrior accompanying them. What a blessing to see small glimpses of these British lives. It's moments like those that I never want to come home.
Bath, Buses, Blokes, Bible study, Balance and a Birthday
Thursday I visited the city of Bath. Ironically enough we experienced some light showers. Fortunately enough I was indoors while it was raining. The day went by quickly enough as far as field trips are concerned. I’ve always enjoyed studying the ancient Romans and am fascinated by this social, recreational, spiritual ritual of visiting the public baths. Having associated ancient Roman culture with, well, Rome I didn’t realize how much Roman Britain shared in its practices or how greatly the influence permeated. My time in Bath began with an audio-tour through the Roman Baths. I saw lots and lots of ruins and remains and stones and stone facades. There were mosaics, columns, pools, springs, and all sorts of artifacts. Realizing that I was standing in the middle of a bath house, that I was walking up and down temple steps and on Roman stones and tiles was quite an experience. It was intriguing to learn about the rituals of bathing. One thing that made Bath so special was its natural hot spring, the association made with the goddess Minerva and the alleged healing powers of the springs.
Bath has always been, and remains, a consumerist city. The town exists for the purpose of shopping, going to spas and showing off wealth. For a number of reasons it isn’t my city of choice. Jane Austen didn’t actually care for it either. The architecture we saw during our tour of the city, however, was remarkable. I learned about windows and flats and facades and stone and all that. I also took some fun pictures. I’ll try to put them up eventually.
After wandering out of the Roman Baths and before beholding a most beautiful Abbey I was on my own trapsing about the city. Once I tired of gazing into shop windows at all the things I can’t afford I decided I needed coffee. This is where it got interesting. Let me try to recap for you the conversation that transpired between the barista and myself during a short visit to Café Nero.
“What do you want?’
“Um, do you have coffee? Like just a cup of regular coffee?”
“Americano?”
“Um, yes, I guess so. Yeah, I’ll have a regular Americano. Um, to go.”
“To take away? Ok.”
“You want white or black?”
“Um…”
“With milk?”
“Oh, yes. With milk.”
“Ok. Just one?”
“Yeah, that’s all.”
“Ok. 1 pound 50.”
Then I proceed to wander about the store wanting to sit down, but knowing I shouldn’t since I didn’t spend the extra 40p needed in order “to stay.” So I tried to savor my coffee while walking about Bath. I was sort of successful.
The bus ride back did strange things to my stomach, (I chose to sit in the very back of the upper level) but the conversation with my roommates was pretty good. My time in Oxford is already ¼ of the way over and I feel there is still so much I want to experience. It is as though I came to England in order be stretched, to grow, to change, and none of this has taken place. Time is ticking. What will happen with all that time I don’t know. I’m sure I will have many more hours of bus rides to ponder all of this.
On Thursday night two girls from my house and I went to Discuss, a Bible study at St. Andrew’s for people in their 20s and 30s. We were excited, but a little nervous. I always forget how awkward it is to be the “visitor” at a church where you don’t know the people, the building or the way things work. We were greeted eventually by a few members and enjoyed a meal of garlic bread, salad and some cheesy pasta with ham in it, all of which was inevitably followed by cakes and tea. I enjoyed listening to the people at my table speak in their lovely British accents. Oddly enough they spoke of us “losing our American accents” as though there were something there to lose. If only I could pick up a more refined manner of speaking. Since you’re all curious – yes, there are single men in Discuss. One of the guys at my table is actually from New Zealand ☺ Unfortunately many of the members are already married. Guess we’ll just be going for some great discussion of Exodus.
The sinks in my house have two spigots – scalding hot and freezing cold. The need to find a happy medium between the two reminds me of the need I feel for balance in how I spend my time. Though I feel compelled to spend time with people, going to pubs, having conversations, drinking tea and going out, I also desire to spend time on my own, writing this blog, reading, journaling and thinking about all that I’m experiencing. Keeping in touch with people in the States in no small task either. It all takes time, which there never seems to be enough of. By the time I find a good rhythm my term at Oxford will probably be over, but I suppose that’s part of the learning experience.
I would like to take this opportunity to wish Laura Beth Vander Ploeg a very happy, albeit belated, 21st birthday. Wow, a golden birthday too! If I were in Orange City I would not have spent Friday doing homework. My own birthday is coming up Monday and I am looking forward to it. Though turning 21 in England isn’t a big deal (I had half a pint of Hoegaarden at the Eagle and Child last night) I’ve decided to make a celebration of it by going to London with my roommates. We’re hoping to find someplace fun for dinner and take in a show before returning to Oxford. Just thought I’d record that now, since it might be a while before I get around to blogging again.
Cheers!
Bath has always been, and remains, a consumerist city. The town exists for the purpose of shopping, going to spas and showing off wealth. For a number of reasons it isn’t my city of choice. Jane Austen didn’t actually care for it either. The architecture we saw during our tour of the city, however, was remarkable. I learned about windows and flats and facades and stone and all that. I also took some fun pictures. I’ll try to put them up eventually.
After wandering out of the Roman Baths and before beholding a most beautiful Abbey I was on my own trapsing about the city. Once I tired of gazing into shop windows at all the things I can’t afford I decided I needed coffee. This is where it got interesting. Let me try to recap for you the conversation that transpired between the barista and myself during a short visit to Café Nero.
“What do you want?’
“Um, do you have coffee? Like just a cup of regular coffee?”
“Americano?”
“Um, yes, I guess so. Yeah, I’ll have a regular Americano. Um, to go.”
“To take away? Ok.”
“You want white or black?”
“Um…”
“With milk?”
“Oh, yes. With milk.”
“Ok. Just one?”
“Yeah, that’s all.”
“Ok. 1 pound 50.”
Then I proceed to wander about the store wanting to sit down, but knowing I shouldn’t since I didn’t spend the extra 40p needed in order “to stay.” So I tried to savor my coffee while walking about Bath. I was sort of successful.
The bus ride back did strange things to my stomach, (I chose to sit in the very back of the upper level) but the conversation with my roommates was pretty good. My time in Oxford is already ¼ of the way over and I feel there is still so much I want to experience. It is as though I came to England in order be stretched, to grow, to change, and none of this has taken place. Time is ticking. What will happen with all that time I don’t know. I’m sure I will have many more hours of bus rides to ponder all of this.
On Thursday night two girls from my house and I went to Discuss, a Bible study at St. Andrew’s for people in their 20s and 30s. We were excited, but a little nervous. I always forget how awkward it is to be the “visitor” at a church where you don’t know the people, the building or the way things work. We were greeted eventually by a few members and enjoyed a meal of garlic bread, salad and some cheesy pasta with ham in it, all of which was inevitably followed by cakes and tea. I enjoyed listening to the people at my table speak in their lovely British accents. Oddly enough they spoke of us “losing our American accents” as though there were something there to lose. If only I could pick up a more refined manner of speaking. Since you’re all curious – yes, there are single men in Discuss. One of the guys at my table is actually from New Zealand ☺ Unfortunately many of the members are already married. Guess we’ll just be going for some great discussion of Exodus.
The sinks in my house have two spigots – scalding hot and freezing cold. The need to find a happy medium between the two reminds me of the need I feel for balance in how I spend my time. Though I feel compelled to spend time with people, going to pubs, having conversations, drinking tea and going out, I also desire to spend time on my own, writing this blog, reading, journaling and thinking about all that I’m experiencing. Keeping in touch with people in the States in no small task either. It all takes time, which there never seems to be enough of. By the time I find a good rhythm my term at Oxford will probably be over, but I suppose that’s part of the learning experience.
I would like to take this opportunity to wish Laura Beth Vander Ploeg a very happy, albeit belated, 21st birthday. Wow, a golden birthday too! If I were in Orange City I would not have spent Friday doing homework. My own birthday is coming up Monday and I am looking forward to it. Though turning 21 in England isn’t a big deal (I had half a pint of Hoegaarden at the Eagle and Child last night) I’ve decided to make a celebration of it by going to London with my roommates. We’re hoping to find someplace fun for dinner and take in a show before returning to Oxford. Just thought I’d record that now, since it might be a while before I get around to blogging again.
Cheers!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Shameless
It has come to my attention that many of my readers (do I dare suggest there is more than one?) are unaware of where to send mail intended for me. As my birthday is coming up shortly I thought I would provide the following information should any of you wish access to it.
Amanda Kuehn
SCIO
2 Frewin Court
Oxford
OX1 3HZ
UNITED KINGDOM
Back to case studies. I'm hoping to finish one essay tonight and begin research for the second tomorrow. Sometimes I wonder why I'm spending all of this money to stay cooped up in libraries.
Amanda Kuehn
SCIO
2 Frewin Court
Oxford
OX1 3HZ
UNITED KINGDOM
Back to case studies. I'm hoping to finish one essay tonight and begin research for the second tomorrow. Sometimes I wonder why I'm spending all of this money to stay cooped up in libraries.
Monday, September 17, 2007
The camera that takes no photos
Today I fell in love with a building. Do not chide me when I tell you that it is a library. I felt great waves of glee wash over me as I climbed the spiral staircase of the upper level of the Radcliffe Camera (an extension of the Bodleian). The architecture is amazing, the shelves have been standing for decades and the whole place smells of glorious old books. I admit I was sad to go home for dinner, even if Mike and Pearson were cooking for us tonight. (We had some lovely dish that Mike had at Eagle and Child, along with meatballs and a spinach and mushroom salad) I think I will be quite at home in this library, perfectly content to spend most of my days researching and writing in solitude, or at least in quiet. Today I begin working on John Constable - English artist extraordinnaire.
I realize I refer to the loo quite a lot, perhaps because I am frequently there what with all the tea we drink. The revelation of today was that the hand driers actually stay on long enough to dry your hands. Imagine that!
Fall has come to Oxford. Last night we had a spot of rain (or a really heavy mist) on the way to the pub and today was significantly cooler. My nose (which turns red quite easily) tells me it's getting chilly. Time to break out the sweaters and scarves. I wonder if I shall see the sun again.
I realize I refer to the loo quite a lot, perhaps because I am frequently there what with all the tea we drink. The revelation of today was that the hand driers actually stay on long enough to dry your hands. Imagine that!
Fall has come to Oxford. Last night we had a spot of rain (or a really heavy mist) on the way to the pub and today was significantly cooler. My nose (which turns red quite easily) tells me it's getting chilly. Time to break out the sweaters and scarves. I wonder if I shall see the sun again.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Theological thoughts
This morning I went to Christ Church Cathedral for the second time. I really love how beautiful the church is, the history and tradition behind the service, and the amazingness of the all male choir singing in Latin, but something about traditional worship doesn't "hit home" like the services to which I've become accustomed. That's one reason I love St. Andrew's. Going there this evening and hearing familiar hymns and praise songs was like water in a desert. I don't how emotions are supposed to factor into a worship experience, but I'm personally a fan of them. I'm looking forward to getting involved with a Bible study and getting to know and experience the congregation.
Another thing I've come to appreciate to a much greater extent is the Word of God itself. During high church this morning the Word was held high during the procession of the ministers, four of which are employed in the reading of it. It's really quite remarkable reverence. Being the efficient packer (or bad Christian) that I am I didn't bring a Bible to Oxford with me. This evening I was overjoyed to hold one in my hands as we read from Isaiah 40. It's strange to realize how much I take such a blessing for granted when it's so readily available to me (in multiple translations and sizes even).
Church in England is different and yet it's very similar. People are people no matter where they live. They still need a community, desire fellowship, ache for love and are in need of grace. I really think I'll enjoy working with the people at St. Andrew's, as well as continuing to visit other churches for evensong and what not.
Tonight I went to another pub (the Radcliffe Arms), this time for Guinness. I also learned how to eat peas by placing them on the back side of a fork (held in the left hand) using a knife (held in the right). I was slow but successful.
Another thing I've come to appreciate to a much greater extent is the Word of God itself. During high church this morning the Word was held high during the procession of the ministers, four of which are employed in the reading of it. It's really quite remarkable reverence. Being the efficient packer (or bad Christian) that I am I didn't bring a Bible to Oxford with me. This evening I was overjoyed to hold one in my hands as we read from Isaiah 40. It's strange to realize how much I take such a blessing for granted when it's so readily available to me (in multiple translations and sizes even).
Church in England is different and yet it's very similar. People are people no matter where they live. They still need a community, desire fellowship, ache for love and are in need of grace. I really think I'll enjoy working with the people at St. Andrew's, as well as continuing to visit other churches for evensong and what not.
Tonight I went to another pub (the Radcliffe Arms), this time for Guinness. I also learned how to eat peas by placing them on the back side of a fork (held in the left hand) using a knife (held in the right). I was slow but successful.
Memories of yester-um-Thursday
I feel badly that I haven’t been more dutiful about recording the experiences I’ve had recently, particularly ones as notable as an excursion the Winchester, an historically important and currently adorable city. And so I will attempt to recount the highlights of last Thursday’s field trip lest any of you think I have spent too much time studying.
To be completely honest, one of my favorite parts of the day was the bus ride there. The English countryside entertained me for majority of the hour or so that it passed by, along with a recently added playlist of music on my iPod, and a rather pensive disposition. When we de-boarded I silently soaked in yet another charming English city. Each in its own way is enjoyably, but I have yet to completely fall in love with a place (though London is one of my favorites). Winchester, once the capital of the country, is a tourist friendly market town that you could happily spend a few days getting to know.
The first portion of the day involved touring Winchester cathedral, the longest of cathedrals in the UK I believe. I was (once again) astounded by the attention to detail that is paid in the construction and embellishment of these historic places of worship. To know that God has been worshiped in such places since the 7th century and still is today is quite a concept to wrap your mind around. One of my favorite features of Winchester was a large window that was designed in the medieval ages, destroyed during the Reformation movement and restored in a cubist type pattern (the original images couldn’t be reconstructed). I also fancied our visit to the crypt, which has been flooded for a good portion of its existence. The Winchester Bible, a beautifully illustrated manuscript whose decorative pages are housed in various locations, was another point of interest.
The most interesting thing I did in Winchester was the “roof tour.” My small group of 12 was led by a cathedral bell-ringer up over 200 very steep and narrow stone stairs until we reached the roof of the building. The perilous journey was worth the wonderful view (I’ll try to post some pictures). We all survived and have certificates to prove it. Story of interest: during the war there was a lookout posted in the upper portion of the cathedral (right above the vaulted ceiling). It is said that Hitler never bombed Winchester because he planned on being crowned in its cathedral.
After the tour came a picnic lunch and walk about the town, including many stories from junior dean Jonathan who spent his teenage years in the city’s boarding school. We spent a good hour exploring the ruins of Winchester Castle. What an amazing building that must have been! I can hardly believe that so much of it is still standing and that I am capable of filling the same space once trod by knights and ladies and royalty. Prior to our departure we saw Arthur’s Round Table on a wall in Winchester’s Great Hall (another area of historical significance for the Brits). Then it was back to Oxford to work on my essay (in other words to book tickets to Rome and go out for ice cream to celebrate at 11 pm).
To be completely honest, one of my favorite parts of the day was the bus ride there. The English countryside entertained me for majority of the hour or so that it passed by, along with a recently added playlist of music on my iPod, and a rather pensive disposition. When we de-boarded I silently soaked in yet another charming English city. Each in its own way is enjoyably, but I have yet to completely fall in love with a place (though London is one of my favorites). Winchester, once the capital of the country, is a tourist friendly market town that you could happily spend a few days getting to know.
The first portion of the day involved touring Winchester cathedral, the longest of cathedrals in the UK I believe. I was (once again) astounded by the attention to detail that is paid in the construction and embellishment of these historic places of worship. To know that God has been worshiped in such places since the 7th century and still is today is quite a concept to wrap your mind around. One of my favorite features of Winchester was a large window that was designed in the medieval ages, destroyed during the Reformation movement and restored in a cubist type pattern (the original images couldn’t be reconstructed). I also fancied our visit to the crypt, which has been flooded for a good portion of its existence. The Winchester Bible, a beautifully illustrated manuscript whose decorative pages are housed in various locations, was another point of interest.
The most interesting thing I did in Winchester was the “roof tour.” My small group of 12 was led by a cathedral bell-ringer up over 200 very steep and narrow stone stairs until we reached the roof of the building. The perilous journey was worth the wonderful view (I’ll try to post some pictures). We all survived and have certificates to prove it. Story of interest: during the war there was a lookout posted in the upper portion of the cathedral (right above the vaulted ceiling). It is said that Hitler never bombed Winchester because he planned on being crowned in its cathedral.
After the tour came a picnic lunch and walk about the town, including many stories from junior dean Jonathan who spent his teenage years in the city’s boarding school. We spent a good hour exploring the ruins of Winchester Castle. What an amazing building that must have been! I can hardly believe that so much of it is still standing and that I am capable of filling the same space once trod by knights and ladies and royalty. Prior to our departure we saw Arthur’s Round Table on a wall in Winchester’s Great Hall (another area of historical significance for the Brits). Then it was back to Oxford to work on my essay (in other words to book tickets to Rome and go out for ice cream to celebrate at 11 pm).
the rest of the journey
At this time I began walking down side streets. I'd had quite my fill of people. That's one thing that is so interesting about Oxford. The city has so many different personalities. At the beginning of my journey I was in the parks watching people bask in the sun, feed the ducks, make out (they like to do that in public) and generally enjoy some peace. I manuevered through the older areas of town and "got lost" (along with the constant flow of tourists) in the academic buildings, the massive Bodleian library, towering spires, imitation Bridge of Sighs, and amazing architecture. Then I was in the Botanic gardens, walking alongside the punters (on water, not on a football team), watching the rugby game on the other side of the river, and reading an essay on poetry. Not five minutes later I was in the middle of City Centre all abuzz with people, lots and lots of people -
Allow me a short rant on European shopping if you will. It seems to me that many young Brits live to shop, especially the super tall super skinny ones who exist in no small number. I think they spend all of their money on cigarettes instead of food and work off whatever they drink diving for clothes in the department stores. I've never seen such a mess of people! A woman walked through the store with a broom continually sweeping up hangers and whatnot that littered the floor. I don't think I'm cut out to be a high-speed shopper. Forget being trendy, I think I'll keep my sanity (says the girl in tennis shoes, jeans, and a button down shirt)
- Now that you more fully appreciate my need for retreat I return to my story. It was at this point that I headed out of the shopping district (which is unfortunately also the most direct way home). I followed a woman who seemed to know where she was going and ended up in what is now one of my favorite parts of the city - the Oxford canal. I was ready for a walk and so I adventured along the waterside admired the ducks, swans, boats, people, bridges, trees, and houses I passed. I even had my own background music courtesty of my iPod, Snow Patrol, Iron and Wine, and other assorted artists. The canal is 77 miles long. I'm not sure how many miles I covered by 6 pm, but it was more than I estimated.
I attempted to "resurface" several times, but couldn't locate the streets I came across on my trusty (or not so trusty) map. I knew I was near Banbury (a main street that is much much longer than I realized) and so, using my skills of watching the sun go down, I headed east (which actually did set me homeward bound). What I didn't realize was how terribly far north I was. Since you all don't know the geography of Oxford (and neither do I apparently) I'll just say that I spent a good hour trying to get home again, attempting to go east down streets that came to dead ends, wondering if I'd ever see Crick Road again. I didn't really become worried until I found myself along a sizable (think highway) road surrounded by rolling country (and nothing else) on either side for a about 15 minutes. Having walked away from all signs of urban life (aside from the road I was following, a road filled with vehicles that appeared to be on long journeys to other cities), I felt a bit like a hobbit journeying to Mordor. At this point I turned around and very indirectly found my way south.
I've never been so happy to see familiar roads or the house of Crick where I dwell. Fear not friends. Though I may be a changed person when I come home I have yet to gain a sense of direction. It's just a good thing I don't have a bike. That might really get me into trouble.
Allow me a short rant on European shopping if you will. It seems to me that many young Brits live to shop, especially the super tall super skinny ones who exist in no small number. I think they spend all of their money on cigarettes instead of food and work off whatever they drink diving for clothes in the department stores. I've never seen such a mess of people! A woman walked through the store with a broom continually sweeping up hangers and whatnot that littered the floor. I don't think I'm cut out to be a high-speed shopper. Forget being trendy, I think I'll keep my sanity (says the girl in tennis shoes, jeans, and a button down shirt)
- Now that you more fully appreciate my need for retreat I return to my story. It was at this point that I headed out of the shopping district (which is unfortunately also the most direct way home). I followed a woman who seemed to know where she was going and ended up in what is now one of my favorite parts of the city - the Oxford canal. I was ready for a walk and so I adventured along the waterside admired the ducks, swans, boats, people, bridges, trees, and houses I passed. I even had my own background music courtesty of my iPod, Snow Patrol, Iron and Wine, and other assorted artists. The canal is 77 miles long. I'm not sure how many miles I covered by 6 pm, but it was more than I estimated.
I attempted to "resurface" several times, but couldn't locate the streets I came across on my trusty (or not so trusty) map. I knew I was near Banbury (a main street that is much much longer than I realized) and so, using my skills of watching the sun go down, I headed east (which actually did set me homeward bound). What I didn't realize was how terribly far north I was. Since you all don't know the geography of Oxford (and neither do I apparently) I'll just say that I spent a good hour trying to get home again, attempting to go east down streets that came to dead ends, wondering if I'd ever see Crick Road again. I didn't really become worried until I found myself along a sizable (think highway) road surrounded by rolling country (and nothing else) on either side for a about 15 minutes. Having walked away from all signs of urban life (aside from the road I was following, a road filled with vehicles that appeared to be on long journeys to other cities), I felt a bit like a hobbit journeying to Mordor. At this point I turned around and very indirectly found my way south.
I've never been so happy to see familiar roads or the house of Crick where I dwell. Fear not friends. Though I may be a changed person when I come home I have yet to gain a sense of direction. It's just a good thing I don't have a bike. That might really get me into trouble.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
The many faces of Oxford
It is currently 3 am in Oxford and my legs are aching just enough that I can't possibly sleep, or perhaps I had too much tea this evening, or maybe I'm a bit distraught over something that's eating away at my subconscious. Whatever the reason I now find myself with ample time to catch up on blogging.
After waking at about noon today I found myself in an interesting predicament. Having showered, eaten breakfast/lunch and finished my essay for Monday I was ready to head to the library and begin researching for my second essay. Unfortunatley the library had closed by the time I had all of the books and library hours looked up online. So as everyone else busily wrote essays I had nothing to do. Being that it was a beautiful day (and I had showered so running was out of the question) I decided to take a walk.
Not a bad idea if I do say so myself. I went through the University Parks, passed the ducks and down along some lovely Oxfordian streets until I came across an irresistible deal - 10 postcards for 2 pounds 50. After dropping all my change I was off again. I came to Christ Church Cathedral and listened to the bells ring about a thousand times (it actually reminded me of the very end of the Disney version of Robin Hood) as I strolled through the Botanic Gardens. I did a little journalling, walked across Magdalene Bridge, found a coffee shop/wine bar that features live jazz on occasion, stopped in a costume shop and decided to head west towards City Centre (the shopping district). I'm continually amazed at the size of Oxford. I live 5 min. from Wycliffe Hall and about 15 from City Centre and the Bodleian library, so I assume everything is within walking distance.
Anyhow I survived the shopping district without spending money (which was very difficult and probably won't happy very often). I was rather tired of people by this time and ready to head home for some dinner. It was about 5 pm. Then it got interesting...
After waking at about noon today I found myself in an interesting predicament. Having showered, eaten breakfast/lunch and finished my essay for Monday I was ready to head to the library and begin researching for my second essay. Unfortunatley the library had closed by the time I had all of the books and library hours looked up online. So as everyone else busily wrote essays I had nothing to do. Being that it was a beautiful day (and I had showered so running was out of the question) I decided to take a walk.
Not a bad idea if I do say so myself. I went through the University Parks, passed the ducks and down along some lovely Oxfordian streets until I came across an irresistible deal - 10 postcards for 2 pounds 50. After dropping all my change I was off again. I came to Christ Church Cathedral and listened to the bells ring about a thousand times (it actually reminded me of the very end of the Disney version of Robin Hood) as I strolled through the Botanic Gardens. I did a little journalling, walked across Magdalene Bridge, found a coffee shop/wine bar that features live jazz on occasion, stopped in a costume shop and decided to head west towards City Centre (the shopping district). I'm continually amazed at the size of Oxford. I live 5 min. from Wycliffe Hall and about 15 from City Centre and the Bodleian library, so I assume everything is within walking distance.
Anyhow I survived the shopping district without spending money (which was very difficult and probably won't happy very often). I was rather tired of people by this time and ready to head home for some dinner. It was about 5 pm. Then it got interesting...
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Moonlight becomes her
In the middle of researching for a paper (ok, and checking my e-mail and facebook and wishing I had more messages) one of my housemates suggested a walk around the block for some fresh air. Jonathan came with us and we ended up seeing some amazing parts of Oxford all under a lovely night's sky. Our tour included the famous Dragon school, the oldest post box in the area, the only nude bronze statue in the city and the house where Tolkien lived. What an enchanting place! It's so easy to imagine writing of hobbits in an ivy covered Oxford home. I think more people should see this city by the stars.
Oxford Oddities
The following is a collection of things I've encountered recently. You may or may not find any or all of them amusing. I did.
- Oxford's world-renowned Bodleian Library has over 8 million books, some of which are stored in tunnels beneath the city of Oxford. When I place a book request little Oxford workers must go into these tunnels and retrieve my book. I can then read this copy (of which the library has only one), but only in a designated room between 9:00-19:00. I feel very intelligent when I'm in the library, it's quiet and studious and very serious. No couches or children's book displays, just tables and chairs and lots of books. Much as I enjoy the "intellectual stimulation" of this atmosphere I almost broke it while hunting for a book on Julian of Norwich. The book sat rather high on the shelf, meaning I got to use one of those rolling library ladders to retrieve it. I nearly broke into song. Another point of interest at the Bodleian is that the door to the toilet is labeld "Women Readers."
- It has been unusually and unseasonably sunny every day since my arrival at Oxford. One student actually dared to complain about the sun not allowing for the atmosphere he paid for. I think it has been just lovely. Still, sunlight and studying have never been good friends in my experience. It is difficult for me to hole up in the library when beautiful fall is all around me.
- The toilets in England are unusually round, deep, and devoid of water. The sinks often have two spigots, each of extreme temperature, causing one to shift back and forth during the washing process.
- The Anglican Church, and the general public, seem much more conscientious about the environment. I appreciate that. We pray for other parishes, civic leaders, other countries and so on during church. I like that too.
- I retrieved my first pieces of mail the other day! Thank you Mom, Dad, and Ellen! What fun. I must do some writing and sending of my own. Our mail boxes are called "pigeon holes" in reference to their size, not the means of the mails transportation.
- University parks are by far the best of the many places I have gotten lost thus far.
- The other day I decided to purchase an Oxford sweatshirt (I didn't bring one with me), and had a terrible time deciding which colour to get and what that meant about my personality. Apparently I've taken the analytical tendencies to the extreme. Am I dull colors person or do I go with something more vibrant? The truth is they didn't have the navy sweatshirt with white letters I was looking for. Two days later I was quite happy with my purchase of a yellow sweatshirt. Now I find it has pen marks on it, and I decide that this is perhaps fitting.
- Oxford's world-renowned Bodleian Library has over 8 million books, some of which are stored in tunnels beneath the city of Oxford. When I place a book request little Oxford workers must go into these tunnels and retrieve my book. I can then read this copy (of which the library has only one), but only in a designated room between 9:00-19:00. I feel very intelligent when I'm in the library, it's quiet and studious and very serious. No couches or children's book displays, just tables and chairs and lots of books. Much as I enjoy the "intellectual stimulation" of this atmosphere I almost broke it while hunting for a book on Julian of Norwich. The book sat rather high on the shelf, meaning I got to use one of those rolling library ladders to retrieve it. I nearly broke into song. Another point of interest at the Bodleian is that the door to the toilet is labeld "Women Readers."
- It has been unusually and unseasonably sunny every day since my arrival at Oxford. One student actually dared to complain about the sun not allowing for the atmosphere he paid for. I think it has been just lovely. Still, sunlight and studying have never been good friends in my experience. It is difficult for me to hole up in the library when beautiful fall is all around me.
- The toilets in England are unusually round, deep, and devoid of water. The sinks often have two spigots, each of extreme temperature, causing one to shift back and forth during the washing process.
- The Anglican Church, and the general public, seem much more conscientious about the environment. I appreciate that. We pray for other parishes, civic leaders, other countries and so on during church. I like that too.
- I retrieved my first pieces of mail the other day! Thank you Mom, Dad, and Ellen! What fun. I must do some writing and sending of my own. Our mail boxes are called "pigeon holes" in reference to their size, not the means of the mails transportation.
- University parks are by far the best of the many places I have gotten lost thus far.
- The other day I decided to purchase an Oxford sweatshirt (I didn't bring one with me), and had a terrible time deciding which colour to get and what that meant about my personality. Apparently I've taken the analytical tendencies to the extreme. Am I dull colors person or do I go with something more vibrant? The truth is they didn't have the navy sweatshirt with white letters I was looking for. Two days later I was quite happy with my purchase of a yellow sweatshirt. Now I find it has pen marks on it, and I decide that this is perhaps fitting.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Answers for Inquiring Minds
I suppose I was well aware when I left the states that with me there were sent many well wishes of finding "an attractive boy with a British accent." I am more acutely aware of these wishes now that my friends, realizing I've been gone for a week, are beginning to ask after me. If I had 50 pence for each time I was asked "have you met any boys yet?" I might have a five pound note (which would be worth $10 in the States, but would only buy a chicken pasty and maybe a glass of squash here). The answer to all queries regarding the opposite gender (British or not) is "no." I have not, in the one week that I've been here, met anyone "special" and really have no intention or expectation of doing so. Much as I enjoy British accents and attractive blokes, much as I would love to have one of them buy me a drink at the pub or walk with me through the parks and meadows, that is not the purpose of my semester here. Though there are nine decent American guys living below me (and with me), one is engaged, one is in a relationship, two are pursuing other girls in the program and the rest are, well, it's just not like that and I don't really have any desire for that to change at the moment. Some day (possibly a long way down the road) God may throw a pleasant surprise in my path, until then I have a lot of other things to learn.
Speaking of which I will now adress a large part of the reason I am at Oxford - to study. I am currently enrolled in British Landscapes, a class I take with all the Americans in my program covering British history. It consists of lectures, videos, field trips and three sizable (and stressful) research papers (called essays, in Britain the term "paper" refers to a course, not a project). I have also begun my Integrated Seminar, also taken with Americans, all of whom are English concentrations. This class consists of discussion groups once a week and will culminate in a very long essay (4000 words) on a topic of my choosing. When term actually begins at Oxford (October 3rd, following my break) I will have completed British Landscapes and will begin my tutorials. For my primary tutorial I will study the life and works of C. S. Lewis and for my secondary I will study creative writing. Tutorials consist of me meeting with my tutor once a week (or fortnight - that is every two weeks) for an hour of discussion concerning the essay I have written based on reading list and question that were given the previous week. I will also attend 4 Oxford University lecture series (each consisting of 6-8 lectures), one in relation to my primary tutorial, one my secondary and two my long essay. My tutors will be Oxford faculty members. The students attending lectures will be from an array of Oxford colleges. The college I am attending is called Wycliffe Hall, and is a private hall that focuses on instruction of Christians for church work. SCIO (Scholarship and Christianity in Oxford) is the program of which I am a part. It is affiliated with Wycliffe and so our seminars and landscapes classes take place there. Any questions?
Speaking of which I will now adress a large part of the reason I am at Oxford - to study. I am currently enrolled in British Landscapes, a class I take with all the Americans in my program covering British history. It consists of lectures, videos, field trips and three sizable (and stressful) research papers (called essays, in Britain the term "paper" refers to a course, not a project). I have also begun my Integrated Seminar, also taken with Americans, all of whom are English concentrations. This class consists of discussion groups once a week and will culminate in a very long essay (4000 words) on a topic of my choosing. When term actually begins at Oxford (October 3rd, following my break) I will have completed British Landscapes and will begin my tutorials. For my primary tutorial I will study the life and works of C. S. Lewis and for my secondary I will study creative writing. Tutorials consist of me meeting with my tutor once a week (or fortnight - that is every two weeks) for an hour of discussion concerning the essay I have written based on reading list and question that were given the previous week. I will also attend 4 Oxford University lecture series (each consisting of 6-8 lectures), one in relation to my primary tutorial, one my secondary and two my long essay. My tutors will be Oxford faculty members. The students attending lectures will be from an array of Oxford colleges. The college I am attending is called Wycliffe Hall, and is a private hall that focuses on instruction of Christians for church work. SCIO (Scholarship and Christianity in Oxford) is the program of which I am a part. It is affiliated with Wycliffe and so our seminars and landscapes classes take place there. Any questions?
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Venting
Recently I've begun considering why it is that I get so unsettled. This morning I (once again) found myself wondering if I'm making the most out of this whole experience. There is just so very much to do and see and so many students here are well-traveled and well-read and have had so many experiences that I just keep feeling like I'm missing out and I need to ammend that and do more things and be with more people more often doing all of those things like going to pubs and punting and getting ice cream and coffee and making soup and having meals and drinking tea and writing papers...and then I realize that when trying to do so many things and wondering what it is I'm missing out on what I'm really missing out on is doing anything at all. I want to be able to do something and enjoy it, to be present in the moment and fully present, not thinking about what I need to do next or what my roomate is doing or how much more someone else is getting out of being here. Sigh.
I have no idea what I'm going to do about my fall break right now. Planning a trip intimidates me to no end, and yet I want to go places and do things. I could spend the whole time in London and have no lack of things to do, but who would I do them with and what would I do and where would I stay? All of these things are constantly on my mind whilst I still need to write two lengthy history papers that I've yet to begun researching and will be fighting tooth and nail to get books for.
I think I need to take more walks in the park and spend time wondering through the meadows and watching the ducks and the horses and the little children and the elderly couples and the young lovers (they're so easy to spot...sigh) and the dogs loose from their leads wandering freely. This, to me, is contentment. And this whole post (to me) represents the disarray in which my mind and spirit have been.
I have no idea what I'm going to do about my fall break right now. Planning a trip intimidates me to no end, and yet I want to go places and do things. I could spend the whole time in London and have no lack of things to do, but who would I do them with and what would I do and where would I stay? All of these things are constantly on my mind whilst I still need to write two lengthy history papers that I've yet to begun researching and will be fighting tooth and nail to get books for.
I think I need to take more walks in the park and spend time wondering through the meadows and watching the ducks and the horses and the little children and the elderly couples and the young lovers (they're so easy to spot...sigh) and the dogs loose from their leads wandering freely. This, to me, is contentment. And this whole post (to me) represents the disarray in which my mind and spirit have been.
A Sunny Day in London Town
Yesterday I went with a group of 40-50 students on an excursion of London. Ever the tourists (and American at that) we made our way through the city, cameras snapping at every photo opp. When you're with a group that large why not join in? With junior dean Jonathan Kirkpatrick (who I am convinced knows everything about everythiing) and fellow SCIO faculty Simon Lancaster (who has a whitty remark or comical fact to go with each piece of Jonathan's knowledge) leading the way I was well informed. I only wish I remember more of what we saw and the history behind it. I'll do what I can to summarize my time there.
We spent most of the morning hours getting to London itself. After walking to the bus (also called a coach) station and procuring tickets for the "Oxford tube" (which, deceptively, is the name of our bus and does not refer to an underground train system). An hour and a half (and three separate buses) later we alighted at Speaker's Corner - London's center of free speech. No soapboxes were being shared that morning.
We walked through Hyde Park, Green Park, St. James's Park, and through the swanky parts of town. We passed the Royal Mews, House of Parliament, Buckingham Palace and a number of other points of interest before reaching Trafalgar Square - home to many pigeons and several notable statues.
During the brief 35 minutes that we were in the National Gallery a small group and I stuck to Jonathan like glue as he pointed out some the works of some of the greatest British paintiners that lived. I was excited to see a Caravaggio's The Supper at Emmaus, piece we'd studied in theology, as well as some Rembrant self-portraits, a stunning medeival dictych and Diego Velasquez's The Rokeby Venus to name a few. I am always awestruck by art and what it inspires in me. I must return to this place.
Next it was on to the east end of town for a brief history of London's burning, the Blitz, the Tower, and all other histories of the city. Getting 50 people through the tube was a bit of a hassle but we did succeed. Our historic walk took us to Tower Bridge and London Tower, a remarkable piece of work with quite a morbid history (aside from being a zoo). We ended up at St. Paul's Cathedral (think "Feed the Birds" from Marry Poppins) for Evensong. The building is absolutely amazing, a masterpiece that was only enhanced by the choir. The little choir boys in their robes and high colors were something else.
At this point my roomates and I decided to break off from the group and enter the realm of London theater. After a terrible time of trying to find tube stops, climbing over 200 steps to get out of the tube, and many failed attempts at navigating the city, we finally found the Theater Royal on Drury Lane (and no, I didn't see the muffin man), which is near Covent Garden (where Eliza was not selling flowers at the time). I marched up to the box office and we got three student tickets for 25 pounds a piece. I think they were orginally 50, so we don't think it was a bad deal. Being that it was already 6:45 pm we were have resigned to not getting to see a show at all. The spectacle that is the stage performance of Lord of the Rings was amazing. I can't describe how awesome the set was. If only that tall man's had weren't in front of me for most of the performance. http://www.lotr.com/ can give you details and photos if you're interested.
After the show the city was abuzz. Though tempted to go out and get a drink, my weary roomates and I proceeded to take very round about ways getting back to the bus stop where we had arrived. I'm so tired of being lost and without a decent map (which, of course, I had left in Crick).
We spent most of the morning hours getting to London itself. After walking to the bus (also called a coach) station and procuring tickets for the "Oxford tube" (which, deceptively, is the name of our bus and does not refer to an underground train system). An hour and a half (and three separate buses) later we alighted at Speaker's Corner - London's center of free speech. No soapboxes were being shared that morning.
We walked through Hyde Park, Green Park, St. James's Park, and through the swanky parts of town. We passed the Royal Mews, House of Parliament, Buckingham Palace and a number of other points of interest before reaching Trafalgar Square - home to many pigeons and several notable statues.
During the brief 35 minutes that we were in the National Gallery a small group and I stuck to Jonathan like glue as he pointed out some the works of some of the greatest British paintiners that lived. I was excited to see a Caravaggio's The Supper at Emmaus, piece we'd studied in theology, as well as some Rembrant self-portraits, a stunning medeival dictych and Diego Velasquez's The Rokeby Venus to name a few. I am always awestruck by art and what it inspires in me. I must return to this place.
Next it was on to the east end of town for a brief history of London's burning, the Blitz, the Tower, and all other histories of the city. Getting 50 people through the tube was a bit of a hassle but we did succeed. Our historic walk took us to Tower Bridge and London Tower, a remarkable piece of work with quite a morbid history (aside from being a zoo). We ended up at St. Paul's Cathedral (think "Feed the Birds" from Marry Poppins) for Evensong. The building is absolutely amazing, a masterpiece that was only enhanced by the choir. The little choir boys in their robes and high colors were something else.
At this point my roomates and I decided to break off from the group and enter the realm of London theater. After a terrible time of trying to find tube stops, climbing over 200 steps to get out of the tube, and many failed attempts at navigating the city, we finally found the Theater Royal on Drury Lane (and no, I didn't see the muffin man), which is near Covent Garden (where Eliza was not selling flowers at the time). I marched up to the box office and we got three student tickets for 25 pounds a piece. I think they were orginally 50, so we don't think it was a bad deal. Being that it was already 6:45 pm we were have resigned to not getting to see a show at all. The spectacle that is the stage performance of Lord of the Rings was amazing. I can't describe how awesome the set was. If only that tall man's had weren't in front of me for most of the performance. http://www.lotr.com/ can give you details and photos if you're interested.
After the show the city was abuzz. Though tempted to go out and get a drink, my weary roomates and I proceeded to take very round about ways getting back to the bus stop where we had arrived. I'm so tired of being lost and without a decent map (which, of course, I had left in Crick).
Odds and Ends
Related to my trip to London or no, these are just a few things to note about my past week.
- There are towel warmers in our bathrooms! A sort of set of heated pipes connected to the wall, you hang your towel them during your shower and they're nice and warm when you finish. Drying wet towels on them, however, may cause mildew.
- Coffee makers are not very common in England. Back in the day coffee was quite popular. In came the British Tea Company with their exotic eastern wonder and coffee was no more. Coffee was reintroduced as a bohemian trend, which caught on for a while. Within the past decade or two coffee shops have started popping up again. Starbucks cloaked its presents with the facade of "Seattle's Best" but has now returned to Starbucks and can be found frequently.
- Nightlife in London looks like fun. On the way back from the theater a random guy passed my roomates and I and asked if any of us wanted to go out (presumably to a club). We kept walking (my roomies were tired and not to be distracted).
- While navigating my way down the escalator to the tube a gent commented "there's a nice spotty girl," which amused me as I recalled that term being used in 101 dalmations. Oh, and just so you know I was wearing polka dots.
- There are towel warmers in our bathrooms! A sort of set of heated pipes connected to the wall, you hang your towel them during your shower and they're nice and warm when you finish. Drying wet towels on them, however, may cause mildew.
- Coffee makers are not very common in England. Back in the day coffee was quite popular. In came the British Tea Company with their exotic eastern wonder and coffee was no more. Coffee was reintroduced as a bohemian trend, which caught on for a while. Within the past decade or two coffee shops have started popping up again. Starbucks cloaked its presents with the facade of "Seattle's Best" but has now returned to Starbucks and can be found frequently.
- Nightlife in London looks like fun. On the way back from the theater a random guy passed my roomates and I and asked if any of us wanted to go out (presumably to a club). We kept walking (my roomies were tired and not to be distracted).
- While navigating my way down the escalator to the tube a gent commented "there's a nice spotty girl," which amused me as I recalled that term being used in 101 dalmations. Oh, and just so you know I was wearing polka dots.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Newly-staffed Grocky
Yesterday I found myself behaving like a camera-carrying, map-following, awestruck grocky while taking a tour of St. Alban's, an amazing town north of London. Once the ancient city of Verulamium, the city houses anceint Roman ruins as well as an amazing medieval cathedral (with the longest nave in all of Europe). It was a beautiful combination of architectural styles as the cathedral was built and rebuilt over a long span of time. I was taken aback with the realization that the same God who was worshipped in this cathedral so many hundreds of years ago is the God who is still praised there today. Despite all the changes in the landscape (physical and otherwise), He is constant.
Today I was staffed by the wife of a SCIO (Scholarship and Christianity in Oxford) don. He teaches the theology seminar and she works with the families in St. Andrew's Church (where I have decided to attended semi-regularly). They have a 3-year old (Anna Karen) and live in the flat on the top floor of a quaint old home that I get to spend a good amount of time in. I will be filing papers, attending the newly automatic church door, cleaning up after Bible study teas, delivering mailings and generally helping her out a few hours a week. At 7.50 pounds an hour this will be amazing for me! Beyond having some extra spending money it will also allow me to connect with the people of Oxford and experience the way a church in this city functions.
My most recent adjustment comes from living with 9 blokes. Though I've had two males in my home all the time I've grown up I've never shut so many toilet lids in my life! I wonder if all loos function in such a way.
Tonight I may go to G&D's for some Greek yogart and honey. So long as my roomates' boyfriends are living in the states I needn't worry about being the gooseberry on a date :)
Check out photos on facebook for more! http://nwciowa.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2009260&id=110800435
Today I was staffed by the wife of a SCIO (Scholarship and Christianity in Oxford) don. He teaches the theology seminar and she works with the families in St. Andrew's Church (where I have decided to attended semi-regularly). They have a 3-year old (Anna Karen) and live in the flat on the top floor of a quaint old home that I get to spend a good amount of time in. I will be filing papers, attending the newly automatic church door, cleaning up after Bible study teas, delivering mailings and generally helping her out a few hours a week. At 7.50 pounds an hour this will be amazing for me! Beyond having some extra spending money it will also allow me to connect with the people of Oxford and experience the way a church in this city functions.
My most recent adjustment comes from living with 9 blokes. Though I've had two males in my home all the time I've grown up I've never shut so many toilet lids in my life! I wonder if all loos function in such a way.
Tonight I may go to G&D's for some Greek yogart and honey. So long as my roomates' boyfriends are living in the states I needn't worry about being the gooseberry on a date :)
Check out photos on facebook for more! http://nwciowa.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2009260&id=110800435
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Lessons Learned
This is a small smattering of the knowledge I have gained today:
Sodexo is capable of serving questionable meals (like lamb pot pie) from multiple countries.
Dogs are not allowed to foul on Oxford footpaths.
Construction does not exist in Oxford, but road "works" do.
All the money from the sketchy St. Giles fair rides goes to the church.
The strawberries I just consumed are from Kent.
The only way that I will ever know my way around town is by getting lost many many times first.
There are white geese in University Park where I "ran" today.
Brits that are "barmy for salami" eat pepperoni sticks.
Turkish delight isn't all that delightful.
It is difficult to cook for one.
British people do not believe in heat - this is the other reason they drink so much tea.
The Office is cruder in Britain.
When the projector stops working during class it is time for tea.
Sodexo is capable of serving questionable meals (like lamb pot pie) from multiple countries.
Dogs are not allowed to foul on Oxford footpaths.
Construction does not exist in Oxford, but road "works" do.
All the money from the sketchy St. Giles fair rides goes to the church.
The strawberries I just consumed are from Kent.
The only way that I will ever know my way around town is by getting lost many many times first.
There are white geese in University Park where I "ran" today.
Brits that are "barmy for salami" eat pepperoni sticks.
Turkish delight isn't all that delightful.
It is difficult to cook for one.
British people do not believe in heat - this is the other reason they drink so much tea.
The Office is cruder in Britain.
When the projector stops working during class it is time for tea.
Monday, September 3, 2007
British smiles - or lack there of
Just in case any of you were wondering, there is are two very logical reasons why the English are not know for their teeth.
1. They consume their national beverage (tea) in mass quantities and it stains something dreadful.
2. British people don't make a habit of smiling. I don't know why.
Today I went to Wycliffe Hall (my particular college) for the beginning of orientation. I was just a bit overwhelmed to discover I'd be using all 500 pages of allocated paper to compose the essays I'll be writing each week this term. Goodness! I was also sent on a scavanger hunt through the city. I was offered tea four different times before dinner.
This evening found me tired and a bit melancholy. There are just too many things I don't want to miss out on and it has left me rather worn out. Hopefully I'll recover soon so I can take full advantage of life in this place. Tomorrow is another day of "welcome" and info. overload.
Toodle pip!
1. They consume their national beverage (tea) in mass quantities and it stains something dreadful.
2. British people don't make a habit of smiling. I don't know why.
Today I went to Wycliffe Hall (my particular college) for the beginning of orientation. I was just a bit overwhelmed to discover I'd be using all 500 pages of allocated paper to compose the essays I'll be writing each week this term. Goodness! I was also sent on a scavanger hunt through the city. I was offered tea four different times before dinner.
This evening found me tired and a bit melancholy. There are just too many things I don't want to miss out on and it has left me rather worn out. Hopefully I'll recover soon so I can take full advantage of life in this place. Tomorrow is another day of "welcome" and info. overload.
Toodle pip!
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Unescapable Community
When I was back in the States I thought of my time in Oxford as a sabbatical from college life - a time for me to read and write and study as I discover more of who I am and what I'm capable of and passionate about, all that good self-discovery business. Now that I am here I find my days are filled with communal activities - going out for coffee, checking out the Italian Market, walking to church, sipping tea, going to pubs, cooking meals, discussing "the feeling of home," etc.
The past three days have felt more like three weeks, so I will try to share the highlights without the boring details, beginning with last evening:
Symphony didn't happen. Well, it did, but we got lost getting there and so it began before we did and the Brit at the door wouldn't let us in, although she did allow a group in shortly after we were rejected. I sense discrimination.
Though no match for Sam's 12, the 3 large blisters I developed walking to the symphony (and back in a dejected manner) have caused me to seriously reconsider the purchase of my $40 heels.
A little down in the mouth, I returned to Crick and watched Jeeves (the inspiration for "ask jeeves") and Wooster, a charming British comedy based on the works of P. G. Wodehouse. Feeling quite British and bit better I had a spot of tea, and attempted to dry my freshly washed sheets and duvee cover (which previously smelled of hampster bedding). Use of the laundry machine is (recently) free - I am ecstatic.
One very complicated shower (low pressure and a wide variety of temperatures) later I watched Bleu, my first art flim in a long while, and conversed about said film with some philosophy concentrations in the kitchen over more tea.
This morning I woke to the sun! A rare occasion in Oxford. I had french pressed coffee and went to St. Mary Magdalene's (aka Mary Mags) for my first Anglican service. It was the highest church service I've been to - complete with incense, the sprinkling of water, all sorts of chanting, standing, sitting, reading and my first Hail Mary.
Then it was off to the French Market (real French people selling real French things) where I partook of Turkish delight which was quite good (in English "quite good" means "a little good" as in it wasn't really that good, but I'm being polite, if something is "really quite good" that means you didn't think it would be good but it surprised you and was decent).
High point of the day - I procured three Parmishion scarves for 5 pounds. Everyone in Oxford wears them (along with many things I don't own and couldn't buy). I also found a hair straightener that works with the voltage over here - no more scary morning hair. Then it was back to Crick for afternoon tea and cakes and good conversation.
After evening church at St. Andrew's (an Evangelical Anglican church far more similar to Trinity in OC) I headed to the Eagle and Child (a favorite haunt of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkein) for Sunday roast (along with yorkshire pudding) and a half pint of London Pride Bitter (courtesy of our junior dean Jonathan).
I've had my bedtime tea and am in need of sleep. I promise that future posts will not all be so dreadfully long.
The past three days have felt more like three weeks, so I will try to share the highlights without the boring details, beginning with last evening:
Symphony didn't happen. Well, it did, but we got lost getting there and so it began before we did and the Brit at the door wouldn't let us in, although she did allow a group in shortly after we were rejected. I sense discrimination.
Though no match for Sam's 12, the 3 large blisters I developed walking to the symphony (and back in a dejected manner) have caused me to seriously reconsider the purchase of my $40 heels.
A little down in the mouth, I returned to Crick and watched Jeeves (the inspiration for "ask jeeves") and Wooster, a charming British comedy based on the works of P. G. Wodehouse. Feeling quite British and bit better I had a spot of tea, and attempted to dry my freshly washed sheets and duvee cover (which previously smelled of hampster bedding). Use of the laundry machine is (recently) free - I am ecstatic.
One very complicated shower (low pressure and a wide variety of temperatures) later I watched Bleu, my first art flim in a long while, and conversed about said film with some philosophy concentrations in the kitchen over more tea.
This morning I woke to the sun! A rare occasion in Oxford. I had french pressed coffee and went to St. Mary Magdalene's (aka Mary Mags) for my first Anglican service. It was the highest church service I've been to - complete with incense, the sprinkling of water, all sorts of chanting, standing, sitting, reading and my first Hail Mary.
Then it was off to the French Market (real French people selling real French things) where I partook of Turkish delight which was quite good (in English "quite good" means "a little good" as in it wasn't really that good, but I'm being polite, if something is "really quite good" that means you didn't think it would be good but it surprised you and was decent).
High point of the day - I procured three Parmishion scarves for 5 pounds. Everyone in Oxford wears them (along with many things I don't own and couldn't buy). I also found a hair straightener that works with the voltage over here - no more scary morning hair. Then it was back to Crick for afternoon tea and cakes and good conversation.
After evening church at St. Andrew's (an Evangelical Anglican church far more similar to Trinity in OC) I headed to the Eagle and Child (a favorite haunt of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkein) for Sunday roast (along with yorkshire pudding) and a half pint of London Pride Bitter (courtesy of our junior dean Jonathan).
I've had my bedtime tea and am in need of sleep. I promise that future posts will not all be so dreadfully long.
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