Internet

My suitcase arrived on Tuesday, thankfully. It had my phone and my camera port in it, so now I am finally got up on four months of messages and able to download my pictures. One problem: the internet service at my house is a distant cousin of the pony express. I feel my life being drained away as I stare mindlessly at blank loading page after blank loading page. I wander through dimensions of white, pixilated space while trying to check my e-mail. So, that puts a damper on the idea of trying to sort through my lovely pictures. But I must anyway. Because if I don't now, I never will. So, I shall simply have to clear my mind and turn the message "Internet Explorer cannot display the webpage" into my new mantra. I have been spending the whole length of time writing this blog trying to log into my e-mail account. I have not done it yet.

Update

Second day home, still no suitcases. Mum and I are headed to the Fargo airport to retrieve them....if they ever get there.

I had a nightmare last night. Not a common occurrence for me. Basically, the dream was about having to write the final 4,000 word essay over again....with a three hour deadline. And it was a totally different topic and for some reason I just couldn't get myself to sit down and write. I woke up with a feeling of panic and inadequacy, two internalizations I thankfully did not experience during term.

It is so strange that I am not burned out at the end of the semester. Usually, I crash for a week or two and do nothing but watch movies and stupid TV shows. This time is totally different. I've decided to study more George Eliot since I have read only one of her novels and desperately want to read the rest. I won a copy of Middlemarch at Freshers fair back in September and, despite its Victorian-novel obesity, I managed to pack it. I am reading The Mill on the Floss at the same time, and I plan on listening to Daniel Deronda on librivox.

Since being home, I have enjoyed listening to lots of Christmas music, eating too many sweets, and imagining myself walking through Oxford's streets. I have learned the definition of an "Anglophile"-- a person who is fond of English culture and England in general. I didn't realize that I was an Anglophile until I left England. I think a large factor of it is the discovery that Minnesota and I are not fully compatible. It has a brutal climate and a large population of insects that either annoy or scare me. The things I like about my home state are being rapidly outnumbered by the things that I don't or have outgrown. There were so many things about England that exactly suited my tastes. I was so comfortable there, and I didn't look forward to returning to St. Paul. Minnesota's January and February never cease to make me broody and restless. I will miss the liberation of relying on walking as my main mode of transportation, something neither practical or practicable in a place with a deadly winter climate.

But, there is swing dancing in the Twin Cities, so Minnesota is not all bad. I am really, really excited for the moment when someone asks me, "So, where did you learn to Lindy Hop?" and I get to say, "Oh, in Oxford." It's gonna be fun.

Home

I have safely arrived in frosty Minnesota, but my luggage is still suspended over the Atlantic somewhere. My mom and I barely made our connecting flight in Amsterdam (running through the terminal) because our plane out of London was delayed. We sat on the tarmac for an hour and a half while the airline hunted down some suspicious bags in the cargo. So, via FedEx, I'll be getting my clothes and souvenirs sometime this evening. For now, the jetlag wears off slowly, and I face the reality of being home.

It's a bit of a shock. Touring Oxford and London with Mom last week kept me distracted so that leaving England did not totally register in my mind. This is the first time coming home for Christmas has not felt like a relief. I could have stayed in Oxford and been content. There is a grief that comes at the end. That city was addicting, and I'm going through withdrawals.

In Japanese aesthetics, the fragility of a thing is an essential part of its beauty. Our lives are more beautiful because we die, a blossom is more beautiful because it wilts. Beginnings are in harmony with endings, and both are necessary to tap the deepest parts of our emotions. I have experienced life profoundly in these three and a half months in Oxford. The brevity of my time there taught me to connect with each day in a way unnecessary to those who have lived there for years. I am changed for life.

And I will keep blogging for the next few weeks. I'm not ready to be done with this experience just yet.

One Day More

At this point, I am physically drained from three days of being locked up in my room with the Long Essay. My body aches from being crunched up in front of my computer. I am at 3,486 words, leaving very little to go. My Oxford friends who have written theses and dissertations with word counts in the five digit range smiled at me last week saying, "4,000 words--that's not so bad." True, it isn't. But after three-and-a-half months of course work and fifteen other essays, I feel I have a right to pessimism. All shall be well, as always, but since this is the first time I've felt bogged down by anything academic this term, I thought it right to express my sentiments so that the full range of my Oxford experience is recorded.

And I shall be done tomorrow.

Crunch Time

This is it--ninth week of term. For the next few days, books on Victorian serial fiction will be bricking me into my room as I write the impending Long Essay. That's it. Finis. Once done (on Thursday), I shall have a few more days of Oxford experience uninterrupted by essays. And my mom is coming : )

My blog, of course, will not end right away. I probably will add a little more on Thursday and Friday, but back in Minnesota (next week) I'll sort through my pictures and jot down memories. I've liked blogging, so I'll keep it going a while longer.

Last Week's Happenings Part 4

On the same day my home town had its annual Christmas parade, Oxfordians were crowding the streets more than usual for the Christmas Light Night. The whole of the city center was transformed as traffic was blocked off and stages were set up for musicians and dancers. Booths of sugar-sprinkled holiday delicacies, roasted chestnuts, hot drinks, and artisan crafts lined Broad Street.

At the heart of the night was the lantern procession featured in my pictures below. Those forming the procession were mostly high-school students carrying paper lanterns designed by local artists. Leading the way was the large replica of the Radcliffe Camera, the focal point of Oxford libraries. The best part was that museums were open late and brought in Christmas musicians along with purchasable hot drinks and goodies.

I took the opportunity to run through some places I haven't seen yet, like the Oxford Museum (featuring all things Oxford) and the Ashmolean Museum (featuring everything else). I hadn't visited the History of Science Museum yet because I thought it would be boring---I was way wrong. It was like walking into a page of Jules Verne. They currently have a Steampunk art exhibition going on---too cool to explain. Stick "steampunk" into Google images, and you'll see what I mean. (Not you, Mom, because I'm taking you there.) I had a great time all around.

Last Week's Happenings Part 3

I have started carrying my camera around to take pictures of everyday sort of stuff. Here is the lecture theatre in which I have most of my lectures. As you can see, it is not much to look at. For comparison's sake, I threw in a picture of the Divinity School underneath. In a way, I expected everything in Oxford to be old and gorgeous, but the buildings done during or after the 1960s have a tendency to be pretty dull, just like comparable buildings in the U.S.

Last Week's Happenings Part 2

There often are musicians and entertainers set up on Cornmarket street, some good some bad. Walking back from the library last week, I ran into a loose circle of people who were making quite a fuss. Turns out they were marveling at fire jugglers. These guys drew a really big crowd for a chilly evening.

Last Week's Happenings Part 1

I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to his tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.

--Abraham Lincoln 1863

Last week I had two Thanksgiving dinners: one small one with a few friends on Thanksgiving day, and another massive one on Saturday with the whole of my program. For the latter, I and few others narrowly escaped preparing 15 kilograms of sweet potatoes. The preparations were divided into food groups, but at the last minute sweet potatoes were axed from the menu because of the strain on time, the budget, and our sanity. So my group was spared.

I was able to call home via Skype and talk with family (and my cat). It is a bit weird not having Thanksgiving. For one thing, that vacation always comes right at the moment when most students' academic energy has ebbed to the speed of an amoeba. But after a weekend of food and football, the end of the semester isn't so bad.

I have only one week and three days--then I'm done with essays! That's eleven essays down, two to go. And the last one is....the big one. The Long Essay. The one I'm supposed to use for graduate school applications (no pressure).

But........after that I get to have pure distilled fun. My Mom is coming! And we're going to do everything there is to do in Oxford. Then.........I get to go home for Christmas.

Swing Dancing

I have absolutely loved swing dancing every week.

Occasionally during the week, I get the Gershwin song "I'd Rather Charleston" stuck in my head, specifically the version found in Kenneth Branagh's movie version of Shakespeare's Love's Labor's Lost, in which he mixes Gershwin-era songs with the play, which completely works. The link below goes to the clip of that song. The play focuses on four guys who swear an oath to fast one day a week, eat but one meal all the other days, sleep only three hours a night, never be seen to yawn, and never be in the presence of a woman for three years so that they can focus on studying.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SA_VdVJwI4c

(I found it a rather fitting film to watch while at Oxford.)

Not the End?

I can't believe it's almost the end---and then again I am getting a little tired. It will be nice to be home for Christmas. But, I still have a little time to do some great stuff before I go. For now, I'm putting my nose to the grindstone, e.g. getting through papers quickly. I figure if I can finish tutorial papers early, I can start on the epic "long essay" a few days early, finish it without stress, and then hit the city like there's no tomorrow....because there isn't. Even if I come back to Oxford later in life, it will never be quite like it is now. These have been the best weeks of my life. I always called Oxford my dream, but I have come to feel like it is a new reality. I want to finish it off with some of the best memories yet. I am a different person in some ways, but more on that later. It's midnight here, and I should be asleep.

Talking About the Weather

The weather has turned English at last. It does rain here, I'm convinced now. October was unusually pleasant, say the locals, but November is giving us a taste of what it is really like. I love it. I admit I'm enjoying a milder climate, rain and all. Fall happens at a different pace here. In Minnesota, as soon as colder nights set in, the trees all freak out at once, turn colors, and drop their leaves quick as they can because they're panicked---they know that up next will be blisteringly cold snow storms and weeks of sub-zero temperatures. Here, winter does not make quite the bold presence. Fall is a slow decay, I was never really sure when it started or ended. It happens by degrees--some trees and bushes change in September, some in October, and some are just changing now. They have their own time, like drops of water evaporating one by one. I took these pictures a few weeks ago. Now all that's left are the stems. The leaves have been rained on and trampled into a mat on the sidewalk. But I like to remember the way they were.

Paradise Lost

I love this city. I think that every time I walk down the streets at night. Tonight I went to a performance of John Milton's Paradise Lost. To know how exciting that is, you'd have to know that reading Paradise Lost when I was fifteen is why I wanted to study literature. Milton's Satan is one of the most gripping characters I've ever read, and tonight I saw an interpretation that matched the intensity of the text. Using physical theater, it brought Milton's projection of the cosmos into a blackbox space.

The actor playing Satan was just what I hoped--tormented, gritty, and seductive. And he actually came off as the villain! That's the thing with Paradise Lost--everyone likes Satan better than God or Jesus because Satan is psychologically complex and fascinating. Milton's version of the Trinity is pretty....well, boring. Perfection doesn't come off as complicated...or interesting. But, in the performance, the actor playing Christ made him a much deeper figure. As well he should be.

I love this city. I can't say that enough. Really--where else would I be seeing a live performance of Milton? Adapting it is not the easiest thing to pull off---Milton was writing epic poetry, not a script. They clearly had a passion for the text or they wouldn't have tried, and they knew that in Oxford they have an audience. I feel so, so happy to have seen something like this...I think I'm going to try stealing a poster once their run is over.

Images of Mary Magdalen's

More about my friends in Stratford

I met Lissy while waiting in line for student tickets to the Royal Shakespeare Company when I went to Stratford the first time. Turns out we are both paranoid about getting there early enough before the ticket office opens at 9:30 to get spots. As it happened, no one else showed up for another hour and a half. We hit it off, which is why I was so excited to spend the weekend with her and her mum Jan. When I said I was from Minnesota, Lissy started talking about the movie "New in Town," which I had not seen. It's about a Miami girl surviving a winter in small-town Minnesota.

Tapioca pudding plays a crucial role in the film actually: one of the main characters makes masses of it (using a secret Atkins diet recipe she keeps from her snooping neighbor Trudie). Lissy had no idea what tapioca was and asked me if it was real. That was of course funny to me, so my mum mailed a tapioca pudding mix to me so that I could make it for Lissy and Jan when I stayed with them. They were so surprised! And the best part was that I got to see that movie while I was there. It was unsurprisingly a quirky version of all the stereotyped Minnesota attributes. At the same time, I thought it was sweet, and saw a bit of the real quality of my home state through the humor and over-done accents. So, the picture below is of me making tapioca pudding, which I've never done before but went quite well. I haven't had tapioca in years.

Recent happenings

So, I'm back in Oxford once more. I'm writing two essays at the moment, and tomorrow my tutor is taking me out for coffee as our tutorial meeting. I've been learning to Lindy Hop at swing dancing classes every week. It's finally started to get rainy and chilly. Not cold compared with Minnesota of course. I went to a dinner at the Jewish Society this week which hosted a few Holocaust survivors. They were children at the time who made it to England on kinder transport, and they had some very moving stories. I've also been going to a Bible study at Mary Magdalene's every week. It's fun that a bunch of the people there have degrees in theology from Oxford. I keep up well enough thanks to NWC's core curriculum, but the conversation can lose me when it involves Catholic or Anglican doctrines I am unaware of. I'm trying to catch up, and I think I'm at the point when I want to ask the vicar a few specific questions. I'm also obsessively plotting how I'm going to play my flute in Mary Magdalene's at least once. I've been learning "Reflections on a Medieval Chant" by Katherine Hoover--and I firmly believe that piece and that building were made for each other (it is a Medieval church after all). It's my goal now to play it in the church, but I don't know how that will go over; physical representations have more significance here, and I'd hate to violate the sanctuary in any way.

Pub

On Sunday we went to an English pub in the country for lunch.

Pictures

Back to Stratford

I am so, so behind on blogging. This week has been packed with experience. It started off not-so-great. I had a huge issue with the topic for the term-long essay we have to do--the essay that's worth about four credits in itself. Not having a working topic is not good. I did get through the trauma...I just had to start over. A little stressful. Ok, quite stressful. The essay is due in four weeks, but now my topic will work. I hope.

The week went on to better things. Fantastic things actually. I went back to Stratford for the whole weekend. My dear friends Lissy and Janice whom I met the last time I was there had me stay with them and see Twelfth Night at the Royal Shakespeare Company. The show was so uniquely done--the ending projected a deep and unsettling melancholy I haven't seen in other interpretations.

But the show was only the beginning. Lissy and I stalked the door where the actors came out and got almost all their autographs. Then we went to the Dirty Duck pub where the actors relax after shows and had a fantastic conversation with Pamela Nomvete who played Maria. She is from South Africa and so is Lissy. She spoke with us for about half an hour and was absolutely lovely. Lissy is going to be applying for drama school in London and elsewhere, so Pam talked to her about getting into acting.

I told her that I was studying Shakespeare at Oxford, and we started discussion my impressions of the way they had interpreted the ending. Her face got really animated as she listened to the questions their performance had raised in my mind. She told me about preproduction and how those choices had been made. She seemed extremely gratified when I told her that I saw the play in a completely different light after seeing the show.

And now I get to put my conclusions into words in my next essay for my Shakespeare tutorial. I tell ya--it's so hard doing my homework here. Absolute misery, believe me. Research is a total drag---attending live performances of Shakespeare: drudgery.

And I just laugh.

Lady Macbeth

A statue in Stratford.

Another Moment

Another good moment back in late September was when I got an e-mail from an administrator at NWC to the effect of

"We noticed you haven't been going to the mandatory daily chapels....this must be a mistake with the system, so we will correct your attendance, but please make sure to sign in and watch your attendance."

I wanted to write back, "Sorry, I'm so lazy that I just can't be bothered with the commute."

But of course I wrote back that I am simply in England.

I just realized I'll have to go back to all that once term is over. Not that I ever cared about chapels in particular, but I really, really like not having a regimented schedule day after day. Maybe I'll just be a free spirit when I go back and show up when I want. Then again...

Library Moment

So this was a while ago but it is worth recording: I had a great moment at the English Faculty Library.
I asked the librarian,
"Do you have any Shakespeare movies?"
To which she replied,
"Yes, we have them all."
While I was thinking They have them All?? she directed me to a file cabinet with two drawers marked "Shakespeare Films."

For me, it was like being directed to a chocolate buffet. There, nestled in the drawers, was every Shakespeare play in at least three versions (with about seven versions of Hamlet). The Royal Shakespeare Company, BBC, Laurence Olivier, Kenneth Branagh, Orson Welles---everything was there, even silent film versions. The only ones missing were foreign film adaptations, which was a little disappointing. None the less, I pillage those drawers at least twice a week. Hey, it's homework, right? I'm taking Shakespeare, so it counts. Actually, I decided to do my term-long essay on the topic of Shakespeare in film. Yes, I know--so tedious, right? I have to watch Shakespeare movies oh poor me. I just laugh.

Time for Some New Pictures

Here I am amid the trappings of Hampton Court Palace, including the Queen's reception room (the red chair) and the bed chamber of one of the queens, though I've forgotten which. King Henry VIII had some massive kitchens in his Tudor palace (I can't imagine why).
The tapestries each cost the same amount as a battleship. The palace is blanketted with them, one way Cardinal Woosey showed off his wealth while he still owned the place.

A little funny with the wispy hair, but a nice picture none the less. This is the outside of William and Mary's part of the palace, with some extraordinary gardens and fountains.

A Walk at Night

I went to the first meeting of the Inklings tonight at Magdalene College, where C. S. Lewis taught. That campus is gorgeous--I desperately need to go back when there's light out.

There is nothing more other-worldly than walking through the city on a clear night. On Catte Street, the Bodleian Library, Radcliffe Camera, and Hertford College all take on a massiveness, like you'd imagine the pyramids would under the stars. Street lights invisible in daylight pop up where you don't expect and draw stark features on the carved arches and cornices. The circles of warm light contrast the cold blue of the night sky, and you begin to feel like this place has always existed, as if it too is a part of the celestial calendar.

That may be getting too poetic, but I'll keep working out a way to express the city. There's so much here to work with. The walk I'm describing goes down the street in the picture on the right of my blog.

I haven't blogged in the last few days because I feel like I have too much to say. Every day here is different. Without the weekly rhythm of regular classes, my experiences are more organic, and I do something new nearly every day. On Thursday I went to an afternoon discussion group and heard the vicar of Mary Magdalene's lecture on the nature of Christ. I've never heard a better orator. More on that discussion later---when I get around to more profound blogging. Then I went swing dancing that night and finally learned to lindy hop. I've got some stuff going on this weekend, which I'll recap later.

I feel like I'll never have time to do everything I want to do in Oxford, but I'm keeping a list. I need to visit the Oxford Castle and explore the canals a bit more. I haven't been to any of the galleries or museums yet, which is tragic. I could live here and still not do enough. Oxford is inexhaustable, and there's nothing better than that.

Odd

Watching Monty Python and going to church afterwards is....odd. Especially if you were watching Monty Python with a church group. By church I meant Compline. I don't know if there is an equivalent in U.S. protestant traditions. Vespers I suppose. It originated with St. Benedict, as many beautiful things did. It ends the working day with peace, silence, and the presence of God.

I've been spending time with people from Mary Magdalene's church, which is an Anglican-Catholic church. I had no idea they did that--blend the two traditions. So, it has elements of the high-Anglican church and elements of the Catholic church. I'm still working it out. I really like the priest though, and his wife wrote a book on Shakespeare, so I'm hoping to meet her.

The college group meets every week, and this week was the Monty Python movie kick-off meeting. It was quite silly, but Compline was simply beautiful.

Christ Church Cathedral

A while ago, we took a tour of Christ Church College (where parts of Harry Potter were filmed). This is their "chapel." Christ Church is basically the most gorgeous college ever.

The ceiling, as you may have guessed. How did I get this shot? I was lying on the floor.

I should mention that you can click on any of my pictures to see them in a larger window.

Here's a picture taken from the Greens College Tower Observatory. Ignore the wasted construction site in the foreground--they're building something to do with the hospital. Take a look at that cool looking Romanesque building. It is, in fact, Oxford University Press. I was walking to an old church in the Jericho part of Oxford when I thought, "My, what an interesting building to my left." Then I passed the entrance and read its title. Suddenly, my vague notion of the Oxford UP, where the dictionaries and other everyday books of my life come from, was connected with a concrete image. Sort of like finding yourself at the Emerald City and discovering that it's not an imaginary place.

I Love Oxford. So Much.

I still can't get over how fantastic school here is. This is what I have always wanted to do. I was home schooled, so I was used to being independent in my studies. Now I get to be independent again but on a whole new level. This is how crazy my experience is: pondering the in's and out's of my next essay is more fun to me than watching a movie with my housemates (but I DO spend time with friends Mom). It's the complexity---the never-ending complexity of thinking about literature that has me enamoured.

There's a couple reasons this is being such a rewarding experience for me. For one thing, I am not spreading my time between a lot of things. I have no job and I'm taking a break from music ensembles and theater. I always did too much at college in the states, and I really like keeping it simple. And trying some new things. More on that later.

The other thing is that I really know my topics. As I mentioned before, I'm taking tutorials in Shakespeare and Victorian Literature. I've built up a good base of knowledge about Shakespeare over the years, so that was no problem. But my big accomplishment of the summer was going through the reading list of Victorian novels---the WHOLE list. I can't even describe how useful it is to be done with all the primary reading. So, instead of reading one entire Victorian novel each week along with the criticism about it and writing the essay on it, I get to relax. Doing all the reading beforehand was probably the smartest thing I've done in my Oxford experience. That way I am fully prepared to engage with the material instead of meeting it for the first time.

On the tutorial system

"So, what would you like to do next?"

I feel like I came all the way to England just to be asked that question. Both of my tutors have completely set me free. I can ask whatever questions I want, pursue whatever topics I want, and do whatever I want with the results. I can do anything. It was such a crazy moment to be stunned with liberty. "What do I want to do next?" I thought, "Um, I have no idea. No one's asked me that one before."

Academics here is not about doing what you're told. It's about learning to ask good questions in your studies. I'm really excited because I came up with a good question to tackle next in my Shakespeare tutorial. The first meeting with my tutor was exactly what I hoped for. We got to dig into the text and look at the ambiguities from a bunch of different angles. I've been immersing myself in Shakespeare for so long that it was fantastic to finally have a conversation with someone else who saw the connections and the threads and the puzzles criss-crossed in his work.

Here's the thing---I think I'm happier working this way than I've ever been otherwise. School is not a drudgery. Everything I do here is significant---there is no assignment that just gets tossed in a trash bin somewhere because its only purpose was to prove I was alive in class and thinking something. I can put as much effort as I want into my essays and have my work actually be rewarded. Grades do not even come in the picture---they were never the point.

This is so cool! At this moment I am revelling in Oxford---everything about Oxford. The streets, the stones, the statues, the gardens, and the academia dripping off it all. I don't know how I'm going to be able to go back to the States....nope, no clue.

Huzzah!

I completed my first tutorial paper. The process of finishing it was odd---like being at the top of a roller coaster and always thinking it is about to drop....and then it doesn't....and then it still doesn't. I was in the state of "almost done" for about a day and a half. If I may toss in another simile, it was like those cheesy Hollywood characters who take forever to die---i.e. Brad Pit as Achilles in Troy. If you've never seen that movie, I don't recommend that scene. With more sadism than I usually express, I found myself gasping at the screen "Just die already will you!" Thankfully, my paper didn't die/was not the death of me. I don't like my essay, but I never like anything I write. That's why I write. It's a self-defeating cycle. Which has already begun anew because my essay on Macbeth is due Friday. "Macbeth and the progeny of Death" or "Death begets Death" or something like that. There's a lot of death in the play, no question. I'll kill it--I mean write it--tomorrow. And I'll go to a Shakespeare lecture! And it's possible there may be some dancing. Yes, I might go dancing. Oh tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...

As for today

Not much happening lately. The exciting part of my day was walking to the post box.

Trinity Church

Where Shakespeare is buried. I didn't actually get to see his grave because of scaffolding. They were redoing the lead roof over the part of the sanctuary where his family is.

I feel like a horrible person because I don't talk to people enough. Minnesota people I mean. If you're a friend and you feel jilted by me, I apologize. But at least now I'm keeping up with the blog. And I enabled comments, I think, so comments can be made more easily. Seriously, make a comment and you'll make my day. So, right now I'm just trying to get over my cold, get through my first two tutorial papers, and get through the stack of postcards I'm trying to write. Life is pretty awesome.

This was at a used-book store in Stratford on the Shakespeare bookshelf. Made me laugh.

More Stratford Pictures

This is the garden behind the foundations of the house where Shakespeare died. I went to the Shakespeare houses on Monday morning, not tourist season. Basically I had a VIP tour wherever I went. I ate my sandwich in this quiet garden, and smelled the roses, which were named "sweet Juliet."

So many clubs!

There's a research center here that will pay $3,330 to infect me with malaria. Isn't that exciting?They'd also happily infect me with Tuberculosis and Hepatitis C. But hey, what's a life-threatening illness compared with making a crucial contribution to vaccine research? At any rate, they gave me a pen, so I got something.

Freshers Fair is what I'm talking about. It's this big event where about 400 of the Oxford clubs and various other things set up booths and try to get you to join. They give freebies, so I got candy and fruit and pens, and vouchers for a free mug and paperback book. That's where I met the people who want to see me ill so they can test me. It sounded great, until I found out there were like twelve pages of risks involved.

I signed up for the mailing lists of the Jewish club and the Indian club (for the culture, food, dancing, and over-all experience), the walking club (for the sights), the poetry club and the literary journal club (for obvious reasons), and a few more that I can't even remember. Signing up doesn't mean I have to join--I just get a friendly e-mail inviting me to stuff.

So, this is the end of 0 week or "not week." Term here is eight weeks, and they creatively name the weeks by number. Since our program started four weeks ago, we creatively called those weeks -4,-3,-2, and -1. Next week I have my first tutorial meetings and my first university lectures. That means I get to mingle with British students from this point on. And I get to listen to the rock stars of the academic world come lecture.

I don't know if I will actually join a club. I'd have to really be interested in it. I knew I didn't want to do theater or music (I'm in need of a change). Time to branch out into new things.

I'm ill. Actually everyone is sick. It's comical. Our first seminar together after break was a musical chorus of coughing and sniffling. We all had pretty fantastic trips to our various destinations, and then basically all of us caught a cold just in time for term to start.

So, how was Stratford? I had a great time. The plays were, as you might expect, fantastic. I loved it---partly because I sneaked into the front row. Here's my confession: there were open seats, and I took them. From one perspective, swapping seats is kind of rude, but from another perspective the act is in keeping with the spirit of some of Shakespeare's greatest characters: the ones who usurped a better position through cunning and determination (the Iagos, the Richard IIIs). Putting it that way makes me sound classier.

Also in Stratford I visited the houses where Shakespeare was born and died. The nice people at my B&B had passes so I got in free. The most interesting part about Shakespeare's house was looking at the list of people who have visited it over the years: poets, presidents, actors. I wrapped up my time in Stratford by taking a boat ride on the Avon.

My little London trip was crazy. That was Sunday, when I woke up at 5:30 again to catch an early bus after walking through the ghostly empty middle of the city. Three and half hours to London and three and half back to Stratford in one day. That's a long time on public transit, but I am happy to say it was worth every minute. Love's Labors Lost at the Globe was the highlight of my weekend.

I had a yard ticket, which means you stand for the whole play. I was early enough to be right next to the stage---I was able to rest my chin on the stage actually. Best place to watch from---the female actors walk past and almost hit you with their dresses. The lead guy sat in front of me at one point so close I could feel his voice booming from his ribs. I also got a piece of cheese and a grape. I love audience interaction. During intermission, the actress playing the princess came over to my side of the stage with a plate of goodies and got people to try to catch grapes. Because the audience is in a big crowd around the stage (a lot of them standing) it's a very active play. There's a lot of energy, and a lot of moments where you feel like you are participating. I'd love to see more shows there, but the Globe closes tomorrow for the season, just like it did when Shakespeare was around.

Statue

Shakespeare looks out on the city.

School

This is where Shakespeare went to school. They still use it for a school too.

Getting Tickets

I stayed at a Bed and Breakfast in Stratford, but I wasn't there for breakfast until Monday when I finally got to sleep til seven. It is really fascinating walking around a city before sunrise. Streets that were kinetic in daylight now had no motion, not even wind to blow leaves around. It was a 40 minute walk to get to the Royal Shakespeare Company box office, and I was panicking the whole time imagining that there would already be a line of eager attendees before I'd get there. They reserve 10 student tickets to go on sale the morning of the show. So, after a long walk with chronic doubts about getting a ticket, this is the sight which met me:

Needless to say, I got my tickets to As you Like it and The Winter's Tale. I just had to wait for a few hours for the box office to open. But, I had the good fortune of having someone to wait with. A really lovely soon-to-be actress living in Stratford showed up a little while after I did, and we hit it off. I loved her enthusiasm as she told me about the actors and the previous shows she had been to. We didn't get to sit together at the play, but after The Winter's Tale we went to The Dirty Duck pub together, which is where the actors go. So, while we were sitting at our table, some of the players walked past us to order. The best part was having someone to respond to the play with. We had a great chat.

Weekend Holiday

My midterm break was a series of English sunrises. At 5:30am, I looked out on the amber lighting of street lamps, and by 6:00 I was already outside walking under the intense liquid blue before dawn. It doesn't sound like an ideally restful vacation, but I did see some amazing things.

I went to Stratford!

So, why the early hours?

Day 1: I woke up to finish and print my papers which were due at nine (then caught the 11:00 bus from Oxford to Stratford).

Day 2: I woke up to get in line for $7 tickets at the Royal Shakespeare Company.

Day 3: I woke up to catch a bus to London to attend the Globe Theatre

It still has not rained. I've been here for how many weeks now and it hasn't rained?? I'm puzzled. I was on kitchen duty this week. A bit of a nice week to have it because almost everyone is leaving for midterm break tomorrow night, then I leave Friday. So, I got out of 3 days. But, I'm actually sad to be off KD because Sam, the junior dean, was in my KD group. He'd wash dishes and sing impromptu washing-up songs while I scrubbed the counters and Betsey cleaned the sinks. Then afterward he'd get out his computer and play silly English songs like "Only Mad Dogs and Englishmen Go Out in the Midday Sun," which I highly recommend. It was a nice part of the evening--a chance to do something simple and satisfying after pounding out the paper all day. I'm exaggerating about the scholarly strain. I really like the paper I'm writing right now, and I'll finish tomorrow. This is a nice way of doing things---no tests or little projects, just papers. So much more is gained.

Almost There

I'm four days and 2,000 words away from mid-term break...

I'm trying not to emphasize the academic side of things too much in this blog, but at this moment, that's really all I'm thinking about. Done: one paper on Shakespeare and one on Austen. To go: one paper on Tennyson's Idylls of the King. Then I get to run off and see some fun things.

The Old Bodleian Library

So, I get to study here.

It's pretty cool.

Though I don't actually study at this part of the Bodleian. Mostly I work at the New Bodleian or at the Camera, which is the picture in the right-hand corner of my blog.

How About Some Pictures of Me With People?

This is Sam, our Junior Dean, the one who herds us around and teaches us things we didn't know about England. He has a good sense of humor and we like him. Oh, and that's Stonehenge behind us in case you didn't notice.

This is Christine. We came together over tea and Dracula, realizing that we both have a thing for that particular Victorian novel. We are at Portchester Castle. The walls around us are marked with the graffiti left by prisoners when the castle was used as a prison.

My Own Reading Room

My new goal is to post something on this blog each day, minimum two sentences. And I'll try to keep the pictures coming.

Current events: I feel loved by the libraries here. I was getting worried because sometimes it's difficult to get copies of the books I need. It's really no problem because they're all at the Bodleian. And I do mean all--legally, every book published has to put a copy in the Bodleian. Oh, and you don't borrow from the Bodleian. That would be seriously illegal.

So, my real problem was that I have a hard time taking notes on my reading without my dictation software--with which I am writing to you now. I have had a problem with wrist inflammation over the past two years. It's manageable, as long as I don't type by hand. Thanks to modern miracles of technology, I talk to my computer instead. You can read books in the Bodleian only in reading rooms, where my dictating to my computer would be annoying to the other students.

Noticing this problem, I got in touch with the proper authorities. Turns out they could set me up with a private room. I now get my books delivered just down the hall from my own private study space. In fact, they are going to hook up my software onto a computer there, so I don't even have to lug my laptop. Perfect. I love Oxford University and its library staff. I am being extremely well accommodated. The room is actually the "Blind Students Reading Room," with a plaque in braille. I'll admit it's not much to look at, but it has become my Ithaca. My stress level because of it will be significantly lowered.

Pictures from Yesterday

This is the Palace of Richard II. Cool. I love Shakespeare's play Richard II because it has a gorgeous speech about England: "This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, this earth of majesty, this seat of Mars... this blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England." The week I found out I was going to Oxford, I walked around thinking this speech in my head. Did I mention I'm studying Shakespeare here?

This is the H.M.S. Victory--Horatio Nelson! He was extremely fun to learn about. What a hero, what a career, what a death. No wonder people made rings out of his hair and stamped his image on tea cups. (I saw some of the rings and bracelets, and it was as creepy as it sounds.) He was a mega star.

This is me, obviously. I'm on top of Portchester Castle's keep. There's this tiny, winding stone staircase that is absolutely terrifying that gets you up here. I guess once watchmen got up, they didn't really make many trips back down.

This is the view of the Norman church. Those walls behind were built by the Romans.

Trip to South Coast

So many things have happened, I don't know where to begin. My first few weeks here have been packed. Today we went to Portsmouth to visit Lord Nelson's flag ship, the H.M.S. Victory. He had a pretty nice set up in his cabin, but it was crazy to think how many men lived in the rest of the ship, with its cramped spaces and low ceilings. We were not able to take pictures. We also saw Porchester Castle, which was enclosed with Roman walls making it exceptionally old. And we toured the Mary Rose museum--the Mary Rose being one of Henry VIII's ships that sank. It turned too hard and fell over, so a rather silly ending for a warship. They pulled it up and found fantastic Tudor artifacts, like toothpicks and coins and cannons.

Tomorrow I'll be studying all day.

New Thoughts

My Internet has been working steadily, and so, as it happens, have I. I turned in my first paper on Monday. It's nice to get the first one out of the way-- now I feel like I'm really here. So, what's life been like? I have traded the sound of loons for the sound of pigeons in our neighbor's tree. I see our neighbor sometimes, but mostly I see his gardeners. Palm trees line the fence between his pristine lawn and ours (which is not pristine but very lovable). I'm finding my way around the city better now, though I still find myself wandering down streets I have never seen before. These stone-paved roads are addictive: each one curves or intersects with another. The color and texture changes within 10 feet-- rain-blue slates to potato-colored stones to course concrete. I love the toll of bells, a distant stain of sound. Every open door I pass sends out its own scents to the street, clothing, candies, electronics. Open markets carry fruit I've never seen in my life. What I really love is that I have an access card that gets me into the buildings visiters and tourists take pictures of. The architecture is gorgeous. So, I guess you could say I'm okay here.

Why, oh why! thou god of internet dost thou plague me?

So, this blog is turning into a mild failure because my Internet connection is possessed. Not the wireless itself--just my computer's connection to it. Pretty much anytime I even think about blogging or e-mailing or--heaven forbid--doing my homework, the connection dissipates into fog. So, if you're one of my friends who has been kind enough to follow my progress, I apologize that I have not been blogging. Hopefully all shall resolve itself in time.

My Music Stand

From the moment I walked through the door, I was figuring out how to adapt. There was no way to anticipate what would or would not be supplied at my housing, or how things would simply be different. This picture is of one of my more clever adaptations; there was no music stand in the house, so I strung a ribbon over two hooks on my closet door and attached paper clips to it. All of my music is photocopied and light enough to hang easily. In general, I have been pleasantly surprised by my housing. Our shower stopped working after day one, and a day and half later Joyce, the administrator, saw that it was replaced it for us. They have also fed us, and they have served us tea at least 7 times so far--since tea is "what keeps us alive," in the words of Simon, the student affairs tutor. Another adaptation I had to make became pretty apparent after the first night. I'm used to sleeping on an inch of foam padding--a little spoiled I know. Thankfully, I had two blankets in my closet which I layered under the bottom sheet. Now I sleep on an inch of wool.

St. Giles Fair

On Sunday, after having two days to sort of figure out the city, I was stunned to walk down one of the main streets and find it completely blocked off. There were dozens of loud and colorful trucks and trailers squished together on the pavement. Turns out they were setting up for the largest street fair in Britain. St. Giles fair (Giles is pronounced "Jiles") was a chaotic stream of activity in the city center. I saw many Asian and Indian tourists and heard a few familiar American accents. Fairs haven't interested me since I was a little kid, but I was ecstatic when I saw that a Ferris Wheel had been set up in the middle of the street. What a perfect way to see the whole city. I took these pictures from it, and many more. There, right in front of me, were all the postcard shots I had image-searched on Google months ago. Oxford is more beautiful than I had ever anticipated.

No Rain

So, I named this blog "Rainy Days"; however, it has yet to rain. Oxford is lovely in September. It's the tail end of tourist season, and it's still three weeks until term starts. Once Michaelmas Term commences in October, the city's population goes up by about 9,000 students. We are here early because we get to take our fun and informative British Landscape course, which will help us not only see the sites but truly appreciate them. I like the course so far, but I would like it more if I weren't so tired. After my mild insomnia last night, I was sleep walking a bit during the day. It didn't help that we did a photo scavenger hunt. At any rate, all shall be normal in time.

My Room and View