Observations About School and University

In honor of finishing my first of two exams just a bit ago, I thought I would write a quick post about what I have learned about the British school system. Some of it might not be totally accurate, or it might only apply to some places/schools in the UK.

• School refers to anything lower than university. University is referred to as university or uni. If you talk about something you did at school, the British person will assume it happened in high school, or perhaps earlier.

• It is quite common for children to attend boarding schools. They might board even if there homes are not that far away. 

• Both public and private schools have uniforms.

• You can leave school when you are sixteen, but it normally is not seen as "dropping out." It does not have the same stigma as in the USA.

• Their last two years of high school is devoted to taking A-levels in several subjects. The scores on the A-levels will affect which universities they will be accepted to.  

• At university you can a course, not a major, and they typically take three years to complete.

• All you study at university is your course (major). There are no general education requirements.

• Once you have enrolled in a course and started studying, you can not change courses. To change a course you must drop out, and then wait a year to apply for another course. So, if you end up half way through your course and discover that you actually hate that subject, then you either have to just finish and earn a degree you don't want, or leave school and the previous years were wasted.

• It is very common to take at least one or two gap years before starting university. Students take that time to discover what they really want to study since once they start they cannot change.

• As a result of gap years, the average Fresher (name for a first year student) is older than freshmen in the USA.

• Very few students bring their laptops to class. Legal pads are very popular for note-taking.

• Most professors insist that you call them by their first name.

• At the end of the semester you do not review for the test, you revise.

• Classes, at least at Oxford-Brookes University, only meet one day a week for two hours. The two hours are usually split into lecture and seminar.

You Have To Live Here to Notice

There are many differences between the United States and the United Kingdom that are obvious and well known. Americans drive on the right, Europe on the left. The American subway is the English tube or underground. The United States has a president and the United Kingdom has a prime minister and a queen.

However, many of the differences are much more subtle and you probably would not notice many of them on just a short trip. You only notice these things when you live within the culture, like during study abroad. The following are some of the small differences I have discovered in the last few months.

• Regular white printing paper does not measure 8.5" x 11". Instead, the UK and most of Europe use A4 paper which measures 8.3" x 11.7"

• Sinks often have two faucets, one for hot water and one for cold. There is no way to combine the two to simply get warm water

• Power outlets have switches to turn them off and on.

• Pedestrians do not have the right of way in the UK. If you are crossing the street without a walk signal, cars will not slow down to let you cross.

• Instead of a solid or a gel, UK deodorant comes in either liquid roll-on or spray form.

• Blackcurrant, gooseberry, and rhubarb at quite common flavors in things like candy and yogurt.

• Students rarely use their computers to take notes in class. Notebooks, especially legal pads, are much more common.

• "You're mind is like a sewer" UK = "You're mind is in the gutter" US

• Many toilets have a button on top that you press to flush instead of a handle

• In the UK, cider is an alcoholic beverage made from fruit. The equivalent of American apple cider is cloudy apple juice.

• In the UK, a subway is a walkway underground. It often leads from the stairs from street level to the Tube (US equivalent of the subway).

There and Back Again...or Maybe Just 1/3 of the Way

Practically since we got to Oxford, Caitlin, Libby and I have talked about going to see The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey when it came out in December. We ended up buying tickets online about two weeks ago and last night was the night. Amy has never read or even seen The Lord of the Rings (we have promised her a marathon when we get back to the US), and did not really understand our excitement, but she was a good sport and went along anyway.

Our first Tolkien reference of the day came in the form of a link posted by Libby on Facebook, The 13 Dwarves of The Hobbit, Ranked by Hotness. I am not sure how you could even go about ranking them, you can barely their faces under all of that hair. Caitlin, Libby, Amy and I all agreed that Number 2, Kili, was the most attractive. I have a bit of a problem getting past Number 1, Fili's braided mustache. The whole idea behind the article was strange, but very amusing for us.

-------- 0 --------  

We went to dinner at a pub called The Eagle and Child. We have been meaning to go there for some time but last night was the perfect time to go. Why? Because this particular pub was a regular haunt for J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, and other writers of the time. The group called themselves the Inklings.

I was afraid that the pub would be very crowded with people who had the same idea as us: go to eat at Tolkien's hangout and then go to see The Hobbit, so we went early at 5:30pm. There ended up being many free tables and a very short line to put in orders at the bar.

The Eagle and Child, sometimes called The Bird and the Baby by locals, is long and narrow with many  sitting alcoves. The table were made of dark wood with half of the seating being squat wooden stools and the other half green padded benches. It was cozy and inviting. I can see why someone would want to spend a lot of time there.

Caitlin, Libby and I all ended up ordering the same meal of chicken and mushroom pie and a Rekorderlig cider. This was the first time I have ever ordered an alcoholic drink before. So far on this trip I have just tasted things the others have bought. I ended up getting the Strawberry and Lime flavor. These ciders are palatable to me because they barely taste like alcohol (only 4.0%), are fruit flavored, and fizzy.

-------- 0 --------

We got to the cinema about fifteen minutes early to collect our tickets and find our seats. I don't know if this the same in all British cinemas or just the one we went to, but we had assigned seats. That is just strange to me. In the US, it is generally "first come, first served" so you want to be there a little early. We were a bit annoyed to find that our spots were in the very top row of the stadium seating. I swear that the diagram online when we chose our seats showed at least two or three rows behind us.

I was amazed by how many seats, maybe about 1/3, were empty when the lights dimmed at 7:00pm. It was supposed to be a full theatre. And then a learned why so many people were not there yet...there are fifteen minutes of commercials before even the previews start. Obviously they all knew that and most all of the seats were filled by the time the previews started.

Most of the movie previews looked good (Les Miserables, Life of Pi) while others looked like they would probably be pretty bad (i.e. Pacific Rim which looks like an amalgamation of Clash of the Titans, Transformers and the trend for apocalypse movies).

The movie itself was very exciting with lots of humor, action, and a few very touching moments. I have read and seen all three of the Lord of the Rings, but I have never read The Hobbit, so the plot line was a surprise to me. All I knew about it was that the aim of the quest was to kill a dragon, and somehow Bilbo finds the ring of power somewhere along the way.

The picture quality was absolutely amazing and it did great credit to the expansive shots of beautiful scenery. I loved all the details of the costumes and hair ornaments (dwarves have a lot of hair to keep up with).

The movie was over at 10:15pm, just around the time we were expecting. We walked to the bus stop just in time to see the U1 pull away. The next bus would not come for another thirty minutes so we decided to walk. It was actually relatively nice outside. The day's constant deluge had finally stopped and it was slightly warmer than it had been lately (40s as opposed to 30s). Four months ago the thirty minute walk from the City Centre to our dorm would have killed me. Now, it is just a nice stroll.

On our walk back Caitlin and Libby (both have read The Hobbit) discussed what would be in the next movie since this first one ended about half-way through the book. It seemed like there should only be one more movie, but when we got back to the room and checked, there are actually three movies in the series. At this rate there will never be a new season of Sherlock with the main actors all busy with other projects (the actor who plays Bilbo also plays Dr. Watson, and the voice of the dragon is done by the actor who plays Sherlock). 

From K1 to F14

To read about Flat K1, go here.

Way back in October, we (the entire group from High Point University) were told that we would be moving flats from Block K to Block F. Mold had been found in the structure of the building, probably caused by the extremely wet summer where everything was damp for months. Some people, including my flatmate Libby, had found mold in their bedrooms and reported it, leading to the discovery of the massive problem.

Caitlin, Amy, Libby and I actually found out about moving on a Monday while in the Dublin Airport waiting for our flight back to England. I had used the airport wifi to check my email on my iPod and saw that we would be moving. We were all really frustrated about this because we were finally all settled in, only to have to pack everything up and move it across Clive Booth Student Village to Block F. Staff members of the University were assigned to help us move our things on Wednesday, but many people had class that day or they just wanted to get out of their moldy rooms, so almost our entire group moved on Tuesday night, in the dark.

My basic strategy was to load up my suitcase with as much stuff as possible, not neatly, just quickly. All of my clothes stayed on their hangers and I just rolled all of my bedding up into a giant sausage so it would be easier to carry. It probably took me about three trips to move my entire room. Each trip I loaded myself down with my rolling suitcase and at least two bags stuffed full which were then emptied out onto my desk and bed for next trip. I think we managed to move our entire kitchen in one trip (pans,  plates, cutlery, perishable and nonperishable food) with three people carrying things.

Our new flat was such a mess after moving in with things just strewn everywhere. I am pretty sure it took longer to organize everything than it did to actually move. We were all exhausted by the time everything was relatively put away, but then we had to relearn were everything was stored in the kitchen.

Moving was really a pain, but we did end up with a better flat. Caitlin, Amy, Libby and I were assigned Flat F14 to share with the Warden (similar to a Resident Assistant). The Warden, Emily, basically has a flat within a flat. She uses our front door but within her room she has her own bathroom and kitchen so we rarely see her.

Block F is newly renovated with larger bedrooms and living room/kitchen than in Flat K1. Each of the bedrooms have their own a sink, plus there are two showers in separate rooms (though we only use one because the other tends to smell really bad). The showers are also much roomier that the coffin shower we were using before. The curtains are also much nicer here. They are cream with a red square pattern as opposed to the Southwestern 80s motel ones in K1.

I am in bedroom B which looks out onto the courtyard to the other side of Block F. Not a pretty sight, just concrete and a plain brick building. The room has a bed, desk, built in wardrobe, three shelves and pin boards. The only difference besides the size is the sink with its mirror and shelf, and the towel rack next to the sink. There is plenty of storage room for me, probably since most of my things fit inside one large suitcase. It is quite plain with off-white walls. The only really decoration is my postcard wall which shows most of the places I have traveled so far. I have my necklaces hanging up on the pin board over the bed.

The kitchen and living room is much larger. There is actually room for a separate sitting area as opposed the chairs lined up again the wall next to the door like in K1. The floor is new, but not the cabinets, which each open in opposite directions without any consistency. We also now have two fridges and two freezers. One fridge holds most of the food and the other just has drinks. The stove has a broiler on top of the oven, which I have learned to use to toast bread...and quesadillas...and frittata. I really like the broiler.

Right now we have it decorated a bit for Christmas. We bought a red and green table cloth and stickers to put on the windows. We originally wanted to try to make a mantel display with stockings above the radiator to simulate the fireplace, but it would be a lot of effort to put up decorations that we would have to take down in less than two weeks.

View from our kitchen door.    

Since we got to F14 we have had problems with some of our heating which all comes from radiators. Mine and Caitlin's radiators have never worked since we moved in, though we we put in a work order form some maintenance men just came a looked at them and nothing was ever done. We did not pursue it further since both of our rooms are next to bedrooms (Caitlin's is next to Amy's and mine is next to Libby's) which have working radiators so the heat seeps through the walls. My room tends to get extra hot because I have the hallway radiator on the other side of one wall and Libby's radiator on the other.

About a week ago it became a problem once more when Amy's radiator and the kitchen radiator both stopped working. This also meant that Caitlin's room was also freezing. While we were in Barcelona for the weekend the university staff brought mini radiators into Caitlin's and Amy's bedrooms until the heating could be fixed. 

Cue bunches of guys walking around our flat for two days while we are trying to study for final exams. The heat in the bedrooms finally started working last night, but the kitchen is still freezing cold. This is a disappointment since I enjoy sitting at the kitchen table doing work. Cooking anything is a pain until the stove has heated one section of the room up a little bit. Eating dinner is also amusing (though not really in a good way) as the food is cold almost directly after taking it out of the oven, and we have to be bundled up in sweaters and blankets to sit at the dining table to eat the food.

It will probably get fixed right before we leave for the United States as that just seems to be our luck.

Update Dec. 14 
Yesterday we moved the mini heaters out of Caitlin and Amy's bedrooms into the kitchen. After several hours, the heat moved up from freezing to bearable. This morning it was actually toasty in the kitchen and the radiator has begun working. I guess I was just being to pessimistic the other day about it not working again until it was time for us to leave      

First Snowfall

In North Carolina (where I am from and go to college) anytime it snows is very exciting, even if it is no more than a dusting that has melted by midday. It always annoyed me when some of the Northerners at my college were so determined to break our good moods due to the snow by saying that that was no reason to be so excited. Well, it might not be a big deal to someone who gets feet of snow each winter, but to the rest of us Southerners it was something to be super excited about.

That little rant was all the precursor to me saying that to day in Oxford it SNOWED! Of course it was only a dusting that did not even cover the grass, but waking up to it still made me giddy. At least there is a bit of a reward for most of our flat being freezing cold right now.

I think all of the students studying here from my American university were all hoping that we would be able to experience snow in England. It seemed a bit unlikely since in the United Kingdom gets more snow in January and February than in December.

Oxford Fashion

I have to say that I generally prefer the fashion I see here in Oxford over that I would be seeing at my school in America. At my American school, the majority of people dress in a more preppy-greek life style. This would be things like polos, Lily Pulitzer dresses and boat shoes. People do dress nicer there than on most American college campuses, but you will still see people going to class in sweatpants. I rarely see people in sweats in Britain and when I do, it is normally a track suit with matching pants and jacket so it was an obvious fashion choice (this was much more common in Dublin, Ireland than in Oxford).

Fun Fact: In Britain, "pants" means "underwear." The American type of "pants" would be "jeans" or "trousers" in the UK. 

Young people in Britain are overall better dressed than college students in the United States. If you are going out of your house, you wear actual clothing, not sweats, workout clothes or pajamas, unless you are actually working out. I do still see some fashion "don'ts" when I am out and about, though the worse is when girls wear leggings as pants. Girls do it all the time in the States too, and it just really bothers me because leggings are just thick tights, not pants. In order to wear leggings, your top must completely cover your rear end. You wouldn't go running around wearing just a pair of tights and a top, would you?

Some things that would be fashion "don'ts" in America, are actually quite common here, probably since they are several seasons ahead of us trend wise, and the weather is also different. For one, mixing prints is not unusual. Girls can wear a cheetah print scarf with a winter-themed sweater and not look strange. It is also quite common to see girls wearing tights with their shorts. This would be a pretty Hipster in the United States. Short's weather occurs for such a small amount of time here that they need to extend to use of them. Though, I think if it is cold enough that you have to wear leggings with your tights, then you should probably just put on a pants.

Girls wear a variety of shoes from flats to boots to wedges and heels. Actually, a surprising number of girls walk around in short-heeled boots and wedges which is unfathomable to me. It is pretty much guaranteed that you will have to walk a lot if you are going somewhere in Oxford and I definitely would not be able to do such a large amount on walking without my feet flat on the ground.

I was quite surprised how well young men dress here. At home, most of the time they are wearing sports shorts or jeans and a basic shirt, unless they have to dress nicer for a specific event. In Britain, it seems like guys more commonly wear nicer jeans or slacks, button-down shirts, and loafer type shoes.

Now, the shoes are a big deal to me. You can tell a lot about a man from the type of shoes he wears, whether he is a skater, prep, or more athletic type. Last year my friend and I would sit in our student center boy watching, but, you had to look at their feet first and determine how attractive they would be from their shoes. There was definitely an overabundance of tennis shoes, boat shoes and flip-flops. I rarely see men wearing tennis shoes in Oxford. Instead, they wear nicer sneakers in dark, solid colors, loafers, or brogues.

To the right is a picture I attempted to take discretely of a well dressed young man I saw waiting at the bus stop. Since Amy did not know what I was doing, her head kept popping up in the shots. ------------>

Thick knitted scarves and deep plum colored skinny jeans also seem quite popular for men right now. Many of them wear at least some gel in their hair to give it just a bit of spikiness. A pretty popular hairstyle is to have the hair cut shorter on the sides and longer on top. The top layer is then brushed to the side (similar to the man in the photo) or gelled up a bit.

I think that men dress nicer in the UK, and Europe in general, because dressing well is not stigmatized as being unmanly. Oxford just seems full of attractive young men, many more than I ever noticed at my American college. Their skills at dressing nicely probably is playing a large part in making them appear more attractive to me.

Many people are also wearing traditional clothing from their home countries. Muslim women wearing their headscarves (sometimes plain, other times brightly colored or decorated with sparkles) are an everyday sight, though women wearing niqab (a cloth, normally black, which covers the face and head leaving only the eyes visible) are rarely seen outside of major cities like London.

When I am back in the United States, I will miss all of the varieties of clothing I will get to see when I walk to class. People watching is much more interesting and culturally enriching here. It feels like I am learning a bit while wasting time.

Imagine Dragons Concert

I can now say that I have been to three music concerts in my life (not counting those put on my school). The first two were the rapper B.o.B. and the Fray, at my American school. The B.o.B. concert was really not any fun, partially because rap is not my kin of music. We had to wait over an hour and a half before he came on, and then he only sang for about thirty minutes. He did not sound very good, on top of the fact that he was very rude to the crowd.

The Fray was a much better show as they sound great in concert and engaged the audience to clap and sing along. The problem with that concert was the crowd who were shouting at inappropriate times and many of them were drunk.

My third concert was to see Imagine Dragons, an alternative rock band from Utah. It took place at a club called the O2 Academy in Oxford, so I can also say that I have been to a club, though not for the purpose of clubbing. The club was smaller than I expected with black walls, a bar, and a stage. There was even a smoke machine that emitted clouds of white even before the performance started.

As more people piled into the room the air became sweltering. At the beginning the room smelt strangely like sawdust or wood chips but gradually changed to the smell of sweaty people too close together.

The pre-band that performed was called The Escapists. They were more of a typical rock band with a leader singer playing guitar, two more guitarists and a drummer. I thought that the drummer looked a little like Neil Patrick Harris from How I Met Your Mother but with black, thick-framed glasses. 

Most of their songs were a few shouted lyrics followed by long guitar and drum rifts. The little bits of the lyrics that I could understand sounded descent, but their music was just too loud and angry for me. They played for about twenty minutes and all of the songs sounded basically the same with little variety.

When Imagine Dragons came on stage and performed, they were amazing. The lead singer was very into his music, dancing around and gesturing. You could tell he loved what he was doing and was having a great time. He engaged the audience, encouraging us to sing along and clap.

Photo by Libby

The lead singer was adorable (despite the fact that his haircut featured a rat tail). He told us about how they had dreamed about coming to the UK to perform but they feared that they were going to show up to the club and there only be five people there. I think he was tearing up a little as he said that and I am sure all of the girls were thinking, "Awww. How sweet."

I ended up recognizing a number of the songs played just from hearing Amy, Caitlin and Libby listen to them on their computers. Some of them included "Radioactive," "On Top of the World," and "Demons." They were a good mix of tempos and song subjects. Some of the songs even sounded a bit more folky mixed with rock which kept the performance from being boring. It was a lot of fun singing, dancing, and watching the singer bounce around the stage.

There was even an encore that ended with probably thirty seconds of flashing strobe lights. I had to close my eyes, but it did not block the lights at all. I was relieved when they stopped because the flashing combined with the heat was starting to make me feel lightheaded.

We stand for a little while after the performance so Amy and Libby could buy posters. They did manage to get the autograph of one of the guitarists but none of the other members came out to sign things.

Everything seemed very quite when we got outside. I am sure I was talking quite loudly as my hearing gradually adjusted to not being overloaded with a constant flow of loud noise. It was a great night and it taught me that concerts can be of lots fun when the performers and the crowd are respectful of each other and work towards having a good time.

Turkey, Gravy, Pumpkin Pie

When we went to our four hour long study abroad orientation meeting way back in April, we were warned that about three weeks in the novelty would wear off and we would begin to feel homesick. Well, that never really happened to me. Some of the sights of Oxford lose a bit of their astonishment factor after you see them every day, but I haven't had any problems with homesickness, at least until today.

As you probably already know, at least if you are an American, today is Thanksgiving, a day dedicated to food and family. At this very moment, if I was in the United States I would be having an untraditional Thanksgiving dinner of fried fish at our neighbors house at the beach. I would be surrounded by my parents, two younger sisters, and an assortment of friends (though they are almost all my parents' age) I made over the summer. It would be sunny outside instead of dark, rainy, and super windy. I admit that I am feeling a little left out, but studying abroad does require some sacrifices.

It wasn't until today that I actually felt homesick. It is definitely hard being half a world away from your family on a day dedicated to being together. Then, to make matters worse, Thursdays are my really long class days where I have to be on a bus at 8am and I don't get back until 4:45pm. On a side note, it was night-time dark by 3:45pm today. There is just not enough hours of sunlight here.

-------- 0 --------

We did get to have Thanksgiving dinner with all of the 24 people from my American university along with a few of their parents. It was very delicious, in my opinion. There was turkey, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, vegetables (brussels sprouts, green beans and broccoli), cranberry sauce, stuffing, and gravy. The sweet potatoes were really good, especially when mixed with a bit of the cranberry sauce. I was also really fancy and drank apple juice out of a wine glass. Everything just seems to taste better out of a nice cup.

I was surprised when I had to explain to two people at my table what a brussels sprout is. We eat so many different fruits and vegetables in my family that I forget that what is common knowledge to me is completely foreign to others.

We had a really good time just eating a bunch, hanging out and talking. Our group of 24 were hardly separated the first few weeks we arrived in the UK, but now we rarely see each other. A lot of catching up was done about classes and trips everyone has taken recently.

Next, came dessert with a choice of apple pie or pumpkin pie. Caitlin got apple and I got pumpkin so we could share and have both kinds. I think the pumpkin pie was made with real pumpkin, but it tasted a bit more like pecan pie than pumpkin pie to me, though there was no nuts in it. It might just have had different spices than I am used to. The apple pie was good, with tart apples to balance out the sweetness of the crust. The crust to filling ratio was off, with much more crust than filling, but it was still good. Vanilla ice cream probably would have made it perfect to balance out the dryness of the crust.

Even though the food was traditional for a Thanksgiving meal, it just felt more like a catered dinner with friends than actual Thanksgiving. I guess the only way the holiday can really feel right is to be with your family (who I am hoping will Skype me within the next little bit). 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! 

Cultural History and Scones

On Friday the 9th, we decided to explore more of the attractions Oxford has to offer. The four of us met Beth and rode into downtown Oxford, walking down Cornmarket Street to the Ashmolean. The Ashmolean is a museum filled with ancient artifacts like pottery, weaponry, and coinage, as well as several art and sculpture galleries.

Most of the rooms focused on either British, Roman or Chinese history. I most enjoyed looking at the currency exhibition and the pieces of jewelry scattered throughout the various rooms. They had bills displayed from all over the world, including money printed by the Confederacy during the American Civil War. There were thousands of coins in a range of sizes marked with the ruler of the time. The biggest ones were about 1 1/2 inches in diameter with the smallest about 1/4 inches in diameter. If coins today were that small I think I would be loosing them all of the time. Historians use coins to determine who were the rulers of Ancient Rome as each emperor had their likeness stamped on coins during their reign.

We moved on to the art galleries which were decorated with jewel toned wallpaper to fit the time periods of the paintings in their gilt frames. I perused most of the paintings quickly, pausing to read the plaques describing the artist and painting when one caught my interest. I can appreciate art and fairly intelligently discuss the symbolism and possible meaning the artist was trying to convey, as well as art techniques used, but I am very picky about what art I really enjoy.

At one point we all got a little separated as the rooms all seem interconnected, creating the feeling of a maze where you don't know where each turn and new doorway will take you. I managed to find Caitlin and we sat on a bench waiting for the others. To pass the time we discussed the painting directly in front of the bench. The focus of the painting was a sitting figure with shoulder-length blond hair, robes of pale pink and cobalt, and a light shining around the head. My guess was that the person might be the Virgin Mary since I believe she is often pictured in pink and blue robes with a halo. Seated around the figure were older men with greying hair and thick beards. To the far right were two more people, a man and a woman, with golden halo hovering over their heads.

The halos suggested a biblical scene but I did not know which one. Caitlin and I tried to make up stories about what was going on, and why all of these men were surrounding this feminine figure. Giving up the guessing, I rose from the comfortably padded bench and read the information plaque. We were pretty far off the mark. The central figure, which we thought was a woman due to the longer hair, fair face, and pink robes, was actually Jesus as a child when he first preached to the learned men of his village.

By this time we had managed to find each other. Only one floor was left for us to see and we moved through even more art galleries fairly quickly. The final room was smaller than the previous ones and decorated with emerald green wallpaper. Looking in the first alcove, I found that all of the paintings were appealing to me, and I spent several minutes reading their information cards. It was only when I was moving to another section to the room that I saw it was dedicated to artists of the Pre-Raphaelite art form which happens to be by favorite style.

The Pre-Raphaelite style is highly detailed with an emphasis on Nature. The paintings often depict characters from literature and myth. Scenes deriving from the Arthurian legends, Greek mythology, and the Shakespearean plays were all popular with the artists of the style.

William Holman Hunt, John Everett Millais and Dante Rossetti are often considered the founders of the art movement, though I am most familiar with the works of John William Waterhouse.

The gallery featured several paintings by William Holman Hunt which I found breathtaking with their emphasis on detail and the use of vibrant colors. I particularly liked The Afterglow in Egypt. According to the information plaque, Hunt had a very hard time getting the Egyptian girl in the painting to stand still long enough to sketch her properly.

Afterglow in Egypt
by William Holman Hunt

In the opposite alcove, there was a Waterhouse painting, and I had a bit of an "Oh my goodness, this is an actual painting by John William Waterhouse" moment. The Internet is so useful to learn about art, but it can not compare to actually standing before a famous painting in real life.

Ariadne by John William Waterhouse

The Waterhouse painting in the Ashmolean was Ariadne. It depicts Ariadne, the princess who gave a ball of string to Theseus to guide hime in the Minator's labyrinth. The two fell in love and eloped together but the goddess Athena demanded that Theseus leave Ariadne on a beach. The painting depicts the young woman, two leopards at her feet, reclining as Theseus' ship sails away.

We left the museum after I finished looking at the Pre-Raphaelite room and made our way down High Street to the Vaults and Garden Cafe for afternoon tea. The Vaults and Garden is in a beautiful rectangular room with vaulted ceilings that is attached to the Church of St. Mary the Virgin. The rustic tables and chairs were made from dark wood, and the dim lighting gave the cafe a very cozy feel.

I ordered English Breakfast tea and a scone. The tea came in a small green teapot to keep it warm. There were steel creamers, only two inches high, for holding the milk and sugar cubes. The large, golden brown, freshly made scone was served with clotted cream and raspberry jam. The scone was crispy on the outside but soft on the inside. I cut small pieces from the bread, spreading it with clotted cream then jam. I ate very slowly to appreciate how delicious all of the food tasted. I absolutely love the idea of having tea and a small snack in the afternoon to hold you over until dinner.

Drinks with Friends

I have never been out to drinks before considering that I am not yet at the American legal drinking age of 21. The practice also seems more common in the UK, where in the US I feel it would be more likely to hang out with friends at home than at a bar.

Tonight, our British friend Beth invited the four of us out for drinks. We first went to the White Horse, a family-friendly pub chain that we have gone to several times for dinner because it is within walking distance of our flat. The pub has a bar of pale wood and many tables in varying shapes. When we arrived there were several families with children eating dinner.  

I am still not comfortable enough with drinking alcohol to order something for myself, but Libby, Amy, Caitlin and Beth all got drinks. Caitlin and Libby had the winter version of Rekorderlig cider, a blend of apple, cinnamon, and vanilla flavors. I tried the cider and it tasted close to American apple cider with only a hint of alcohol coming through.

We sat and talked for over an hour about topics ranging from the Presidential Election to our trip to Beth's house in two weeks. Flipping through the drink menu to see the Christmas drink specials caused Beth to ask if we had ever tried the glittery version of J2O, a popular fruit drink originally designed to target people at clubs and pubs who were not drinking. None of us had ever tried any of the J2O flavors, nor drank anything with a shimmer before.

Beth kindly offered to buy one for us to taste. The drink comes in a bottle the same size as a beer bottle. The liquid inside was a cranberry or wine shade of red, and it shimmered. It was so pretty, reminding me of some types of nail polish. It tasted very good as well, like cranberries and grapes (I am not sure what flavor it actually was).

At 8:30 pm we rode the bus to the St. Clements Street stop to visit the Half Moon Pub where it was supposedly karaoke night. The pub was small, arranged in an "L" shape with a stage with a young man playing guitar. The lights were dimmed and all of the tables occupied.

Instead of standing waiting awkwardly for a table, we chose to walk up the street to the Angel and Greyhound Pub. Caitlin, Amy and I went there on Tuesday night for dinner and found it to be a slightly higher tier of pub. By this I mean that it did not smell strange, there was enough light to see comfortably, and a majority of the customers were older than university age. I felt much more comfortable here than in the dim confines of the Half Moon.

Beth got a small bowl of marinated olives and garlic while Libby, Caitlin and Amy got glasses of warm Winter Rekorderlig. All the tables here were full as well (I did not expect it to be so busy on a Thursday night) so we sat at a table on the back porch. The porch was actually really nice with round wooden tables and planters that would hold flowers in the summer. I was comfortable in my jacket and scarf even though the temperature was in the high 40s Fahrenheit. I guess I am just adjusted to the cold now and I do not feel it like I did when I arrived in September.

Glass of warm cider

The warm cider tasted just like apple juice, the alcohol taste even more faint than we drunk cold. I did enjoy the sips I had and I might order some for myself next time we go out for drinks.

At about 11:00 pm we decided to call it a night and head back to our warm flats. There were few people on the bus that late so we got seats in the very front on the top floor. It always feels a little like you are on a roller-coaster from that vantage point. We of course had to take pictures acting silly, pretending to actually be riding on the theme park ride.

Now I am off to bed, but I will leave you with the best quote of the day:

"I look like a horse in headlights" - Amy

Halloween Across the Pond

Halloween is  the first major holiday we have been in the UK to celebrate. I loved Halloween as a child for the opportunity to dress up and wear grown-up makeup. Now, I do not care for it as much because I always wait until the last minute to try to think of a costume. I am sure I would feel more festive if I actually took the time to make a very good costume.

Halloween is not a very big holiday here. A few stores, mostly charity shops, decorated their store windows with cobwebs and pumpkins. There was some Halloween candy at the grocery store, but not much. It had to compete for shelf space with the Christmas candy which is already out. I have no idea if children go out trick-or-treating. I did see a few running around in costumes though.

-------- 0 --------

On the morning of October 31, I honestly forgot that it was Halloween. I normally wear an orange shirt to be festive I but that did not happen (though Amy did remember to wear orange). It was not until I went to meet Amy at the bus stop to go into the City Centre that I remembered that it was a holiday.

Amy and I were going to the City Centre with one goal: check out the pilot episode to Lewis, a detective show filmed and set in Oxford. For some reason, all of the television episodes are available on Netflix, except for the first one. Amy looked for it online for forever, willing to even pay a few dollars to buy it but all the websites she found required a UK credit card. As a last ditch effort, she checked the Oxford Central Library, knowing that I had recently received by library card and found that it was in stock, hence, our trip into town.

The Oxford Central Library is in downtown Oxford, sandwiched between a bank and a shopping center. There is nothing on the ground floor but a desk for inquiries, all of the library materials are up the stairs.

On a side note, there were signs on the stairs that said "Keep Left." We have been wondering forever what side of the street and stairs you should climbs to stay out of the way of other people. In the United States you are supposed to try to stay to the right, probably in imitation of the side of the road that we drive on. We assumed it was the left in the UK, but no one ever seems to follow that rule, making walking on crowded sidewalks into an incredibly difficult game of, "Dodge the oncoming person."

Back to the library where we have reached the second level and passed by the bestseller book sections, looking for the DVDs. I really liked how the books were arranged by genre like mystery, travel, fiction, etc. like a book store. My library at home sorts mainly by hardback or paperback. It is so much easier to find something to read by choosing a topic or genre instead of having to sift through racks of books.

The DVDs ended up being located just a little ways inside the doors of the first floor on the right-hand side. We noticed that all of the DVDs had different colored dots on them in relation to how much you have to pay to rent them. Lewis had a yellow dot so it was cheapest at GBP 1.25. I just seems strange to me to have to pay to check out anything at a library. The books all had yellow dots to, but Amy and I do not think that they could charge to check out books. That would kind of defeat the purpose of a library, to lend out books and encourage reading.

I gave Amy my library card to use and she checked out with no problems. I was not sure if I would have to show ID or something to prove that the library card was actually mine. Even with the packet of leaflets that came with my library card, I am still not sure about how all of the library works.

-------- 0 --------

Before I knew it, 5:30 pm had come and it was time to go to class. Walking outside, it was completely dark with the orangey glow of streetlight illuminating our way. Sunday was Daylight Savings (one week earlier than in the USA) so now it get dark super early.

This session on British Heritage and Culture focused on religion. We basically just talked about all of the churches and cathedrals everyone in our group has visited so far, and then were told about the history of Guy Fawkes Day, again.

Amy, Caitlin, Libby and I got to leave class ten minutes early to catch the bus into the City Centre for our haunted ghost tour. We thought it would be a good way to celebrate Halloween, plus it was free. 

Our bus was running late so we walked very briskly from the bus stop, down Cornmarket Street (one of the main shopping roads) to the Martyrs' Memorial. We had never ventured that far down Cornmarket Street before so we got to see the exteriors of some new buildings, including the Ashmolean Museum. 

All of that speed walking turned out to be unnecessary as a lot of other people were late. We ended up waiting an extra ten minutes until the tour group swelled to about fifteen people. While we were waiting we spoke to two girls, one from Japan and one from Bulgaria. The Bulgarian girl told us about how much she wants to visit New York City, the place all Europeans I have met seem to want to go.

The first story on the tour was about the three martyrs honored on the Martyrs' Memorial. Thomas Cranmer, Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley were followers of the Protestant Church of England who were burnt at the stake by order of the Catholic queen, Bloody Mary. Latimer and Ridley were killed together with Cranmer following a year later. 

Martyrs' Memorial

The tour guide named Rob moved us throughout the oldest parts of Oxford, telling stories along the way. There were the students studying religion who died in collapsed tunnels where they hid when teachers came into the pubs where they had been drinking, and could be heard scratching the ground trying to unbury themselves. One man was sentenced to have his ear nailed to a post so he cursed the courtroom and nearly of its occupants died within a week of typhus, or jailhouse fever.

My favorite story occurred at Brasenose College of Oxford University. In the 1800s, a man known as a drunk was walking down a dark street next to the college when he saw a black robed figure trying to pull something out of a window. Now, this window was small, only about a foot wide by three feet tall, and it had metal bars over it. The man, who taught in the college, was frightened and ran passed, entering Brasenose. 

Inside, he learned that a student in his 20s has just collapsed on the stairs and died. This student was rumored to be president of the Hellfire Club, a club that got together to drink and cause mischief. However, legend has it that the members of the club worshiped the Devil and offered him their souls. 

The student was determined to have died from natural causes but it is said that on his face there were straight red marks, two vertical and one horizontal, matching the pattern of the window's bars. It is said that the drunken man had seen Satan in the dark street, trying to take the soul that the student had offered him.   

-------- 0 --------  

We were invited to a Halloween party thrown by some of the people from our American university. Partying is definitely not my sense but I thought I would make a short appearance and then leave. Libby dressed as a zebra with her knitted zebra hat and stripped shirt while Caitlin, Amy and I just wore our normal clothes. Caitlin just said she was a Muggle and, if needed, I could pretend I was a cowgirl since I was wearing boots and a flannel shirt.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time, considering the small space we were in. I was really impressed with people's costumes. There were several Captain Knickers (a version of Captain Underpants they thought the British would understand better), Oompa Loompas from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Harley Quinn. One British guy named Simon, dressed in an orange tiger onesie was friendly.

I was uncomfortable after about ten minutes so Caitlin and I slipped out of the door and across the small courtyard to our own flat. That was the extent of my celebrations on Halloween. Not very exciting, but perfectly acceptable for me, especially since I had to be up at 7am the next morning to get to class. 

Thrifting in Headington

Caitlin and I spent a few hours earlier today looking through all of the thrift stores, known as charity shops in the UK, in the Headington neighborhood of Oxford. Charity shops here are different from the thrift stores I have visited in the United States. Each charity shop, which is only about the size of a small boutique, benefits a different charity. Some of the things the shops are dedicated to are cancer research, hospices, elderly people, children's diseases and the elimination of poverty. There are chain charity shops like Oxfam and Age UK, but they are smaller than the Goodwills in America.

All of the shops carry the same basic things like clothing, some housewares and knick-knacks, shoes, books and greeting cards. A few of them sell candy, CDs and DVDs.

Caitlin and I were looking for possible Halloween outfits since the holiday is later this week and we do not have costumes yet. I am not even sure if I want to dress up this year since it has gotten so cold and I do not know how many people really celebrate Halloween here. We have signed up to go on a ghost tour through Oxford on Halloween evening, so hopefully that will be fun.

The only fully formed costume idea I have is to try and dress like a female version of the 11th Doctor from the television show, Doctor Who. It would be relatively simple since all I would really need would be a black skirt, white blouse, tweed jacket, suspenders, a bow tie, and possibly a red hat. My flatmates and fellow Whovians also have thought about being Doctor Who characters. Amy might dress as Amelia Pond, the 11th Doctor's traveling companion, and Caitlin is considering being a Weeping Angel, one of the villains of the series.

Neither of us found anything to purchase in all of the shops when looked at. We might go look at Primark on Monday since our Headington trip was so unfruitful.

I did not mind walking back to the dorm from Headington when we just missed the bus. The weather seems to have rushed passed Autumn and into Winter this week, but it is beautiful out today. The sun is blue after days of clouds and it makes the 45 degree Fahrenheit temperature more bearable. My hands were cold and I could feel my nose and ears turning numbing and turning pink, from the brisk wind. The walk gave me a chance to appreciate the sunny skies and the leaves that are finally being to turn colors, though not nearly as vibrant as the colors at home in the Appalachian Mountains.

As time creeps further into Autumn I keep finding things that I feel like I missing out on, not being at home. Just little things like watching the leaves change color, carving pumpkins, and smelling wood smoke as people start using their fireplaces. I think the beauty of Western North Carolina in the Autumn beats Oxford. I'll have to wait and see, but the score might even out closer to Christmas when Oxford is bathed in fairy lights and evergreen wreaths for the winter holiday.

Natural History and Brownies

Today I woke up and things were quite different from usual, not bad, just different. I got up at 9 am, took a shower, ate breakfast and just puttered around. At 11 am I went to see if my flatmates were awake. Caitlin opened her door and said that she was just getting up. It was only then that I remembered that Amy had gone to London yesterday to meet up with her parents and Libby had left early this morning to go to Scotland with her parents. So, it is just Caitlin and me in the flat this weekend. It is strange because the four of us have been almost constant companions for the past (almost) two months.

Earlier in the week Caitlin and I had already planned to do some exploring in Oxford over the weekend since it would just be the two of us. Our choices were the Botanic Gardens and/or the Pitt Rivers Museum. We did not decide where we were going until this morning when we checked the weather and it was only supposed to be a high of 48 degrees Fahrenheit. That is almost a 10 degree drop from yesterday and it is supposed to continue to be that cold for at least the next week. The weather here is finally turning frigid, and I am very glad I bought a coat at Primark on Wednesday (it is wine colored with scalloped detail and I absolutley love it).

The Pitt Rivers Museum is in a part of Oxford north of High Street where we had not yet explored. We walked along a two lane road that had a lot of cars, since I guess that area is not considered the City Centre (only buses, bikes and taxis are allowed in the City Centre during the day). The sidewalk was incredibly crowded, mostly with university students who were probably head to or from class as most of the buildings lining the road appeared to be more colleges of Oxford University.

After a bit of confusion about the signs to Pitt Rivers (one sign pointed left but I was positive it was supposed to be on the right. The first sign ended up being for parking for the museum), we made it to the museum. You walk in through a heavy wooden door and the first things you see are giant dinosaur skeletons. I was surrounded by bones and fossils and rocks. If I could have visited this museum at around age 7-11 I would have been in absolute heaven. During that time I changed back and forth from wanted to be an Egyptologist, archeologist, paleontologist and geologist. I collected fossils and rocks and they were my prized possessions.

Even at my current age I was positively giddy. A lot of the displays were designed to be touched. There were stuffed animals like a fox, pheasant, badger, and cheetah that visitors can pet. One adorable little girl with blond curls ran up to the stuffed Shetland pony saying in her British accent, "Look, Mummy, a Shetland pony. It's a Shetland pony." Little children with British accents just make me "Awww" in my head because they are so cute.

Caitlin and I slowly made our way around the room looking at all of the displays about rocks, dinosaurs, modern animals, and insects. I also took some time to appreciate the architecture. The glass ceiling stretched overhead, two stories up. It is all held up by carved granite columns and a diamond shaped weaving of metal supports.

The Pitt Rivers Museum is actually where Lewis Carroll, who lived in Oxford and lectured at Christ Church, got a lot of ideas for Alice in Wonderland. The museum has an entire display case with all of the animals featured in the stories, birds, lizards, and even a white rabbit. The Dodo bird has its own case with a skeleton of a Dodo and a model of what it would have looked like. I learned that Dodo birds are not naturally the large, round and clumsy animals that they are normally thought of as. In reality, the Dodos that were kept in captivity were given the wrong food so they grew obese.

In a separate room there is the collection of cultural artifacts. The room is three stories tall and filled to the brim with all manner of things from cultures around the world. There is pottery, clothing, model ships, musical instruments, models of traditional homes, woven baskets, oil lamps and much more. Caitlin and I played a little game of trying to guess what country, or at least what continent, the various pieces came from. There is so much to see that it would take days, if not weeks, to see it all.

It was amazing to see how similar items were that were from cultures on the other side of the world from each other. Many cultures use horns to communicate and create music. Many ended up with the same style of oil lamp, probably because the shape was the most efficient. It was like this one room showed how interconnected all people of the world are. All human beings are the same regardless of skin color or ethnicity.  In that room I felt, not like an American or a caucasian female, but simply a member off the human race, connect to everyone else in some way, past and present.

Before even finishing the ground floor, Caitlin and I both started to get hungry so we decided to visit the museum again another day (entry is free). We ended up at the Covered Market on High Street and chose to eat baguettes at Morton. The goat cheese on Caitlin's baguette reminded me of our four hour long study abroad orientation in May. That orientation was so long ago now, and the most memorable part was the snacks. Those snacks included goat cheese, crackers, fruit and brownies. One thought led to another, and suddenly I was craving brownies.

I knew that we had all of the ingredients to make brownies except for cocoa powder so I thought this would be a good opportunity for Caitlin to show me the Tesco she had found a ways down Cornmarket Street when she explored Oxford by herself the other day. The Cornmarket Tesco is not as spread out as the one on Cowley Road, instead it has two floors. We had to look in several places before we found the cocoa powder in the section with the coffee, tea and hot cocoa. With our last ingredient in hand, we headed back to the dorm.

The walk back was uneventful. The narrow trail from Pullen's Lane to our dorm, passes by the nursery, an area of land where people can plant gardens and vegetables. Today, someone was burning wood or leaves in a bonfire and the air held its earthy, burning smell. I knew that if I stopped and closed my eyes I would be able to perfectly picture myself standing outside my home in North Carolina, surrounded by tree draped in fiery hues. The brisk wind of Autumn and the smell of wood fires are two things that go perfectly together in my memories.

Back at the dorm we started baking our brownies. It was not difficult at all, just mixing a few ingredients together then pouring it into a pan. I waited the required time, 25-30 minutes, but the bottom was still gooey while the top seemed cooked. This seems to happen every time I have tried to bake here. The oven, which is super tiny, doesn't seem to cook the bottoms of things properly. We ended up cooking the brownies for an extra 15 minutes and I think they ended up a bit over cooked. However, they were still delicious and satisfied my brownie craving. We probably will get used to how the oven just in time for us to leave, but that is just the way things go sometimes.

What's in a Title?

Here, professors and other administration staff are called by their first names. Professors with doctorates do not use the title, even in conjunction with their first name. It makes me very uncomfortable calling a professor by only their first name. In the United States, especially in the south, it would be considered very disrespectful to call someone older than you, or of higher authority, by their first name without their permission. Professors are almost always called by their last name and title unless the student has had a lot of contact with them over an extended period of time.

From what I have heard, Americans who have earned their doctorates prefer to be called by their title of Dr. because they worked so hard to earn it. When I email my professors in the United States I check to make sure I a using the appropriate title. It would be rude and embarrassing to call someone Mr. or Mrs. if he or she is actually a doctor.

So, to avoid that uncomfortable feeling, I simply refrain from using my professors names when speaking to them (which has happened very rarely). I just get their attention by saying, "Excuse me," or starting my question after catching their eye. It has worked pretty well so far.

This lack of formality and emphasis on titles found a juxtaposition in my mind on Sunday night when I applied online for an Oxfordshire library card. It asked for all of the normal information like first name, surname, address, etc., but in the spot for "Title" was an extremely long list of choices. In the United States, drop-down boxes normally hold the titles Mr., Mrs., Ms., Dr., and perhaps Miss. Most of the time though you type in your title if it is even asked for you to provide it. Just a few of the title choices for the Oxfordshire library are listed below:

Master
Admiral
Brigadier
Bishop
Brother
Canon
Commodore
Count/Countess
Dame
Duke/Duchess
Honorable
Sir
Wing Commander
Field M
Lord/Lady
Baron/Baroness

I was absolutely amazed by the sheer number of title choices. There were selections of social titles, religious titles, and military titles. Do these people all expect to be addressed with their titles in person, or is it just for formal documents? Is it a part of their signature? Perhaps, professors are the only ones who are so informal in an attempt to make students comfortable and show that they are close to being equals. I really have no idea.

One Pub, Two Pubs, Three Pubs, Fight

This week my friend Amy's parents and two of their friends came to visit. Mrs. Stamm, Mr. Stamm, John and Maureen invited us to eat dinner with them on Friday night. The evening started out on a bit of a sour note when the 6:35 bus did not show up (we were at the stop five minutes early). We ended up walking, it was less than a mile, but it wasn't entirely pleasant since it was drizzling. The rain had made the fallen leaves on the sidewalk slick and mushy underfoot. We had to step carefully to be sure we did not fall.

The Britannia 

Our fifteen minute walk go us to our meeting spot, a pub and restaurant called the Britannia. The pub had a very warm, cozy feeling with brown decor and well padded chairs arranged around round tables. After making our introductions, we perused the menu. I decided to try the Beef and Ale Pie, since I have had Chicken and Mushroom Pie since I have been here and really enjoyed it.

We all went up to the bar to order and it was incredibly crowded with other patrons trying to put in their drink orders. We waited in front of the cash register for nearly ten minutes before we found an available employee to order from. The next problem of the night occurred when the woman taking our orders informed us that someone had hit the emergency fuel stop button on the fryer so any food would take at least an hour to be prepared. After much discussion, it was decided that we would find another place to eat at. An employee at the Britannia recommended the Black Boy, another pub that was of of the main road.

Turning off of London Road onto Old High Street, we began to walk along a residential road with few street lamps. It was very dark and the rainy drizzle was still coming down. I was expecting the Black Boy to be just a little ways off the main road, but as we kept walking I wondered just how far away it was. We walked ten minutes before the pub came into view (about 0.5 miles).

Inside the Black Boy looked very fancy with black leather chairs arranged around tables with white tablecloths and crystal wine glasses. Mr. Stamm approached the hostess who told him that they were fully booked, though at the time we could only see about four people eating in the establishment. Perhaps there was supposed to be a large party there later in the night. Keep in mind, it was about 8:00 pm by now. It seem like people here in Britain eat very late when they go out, often sometime after 8:00 pm or even 9:00 pm.

The evening was turning into a real pub crawl as we headed back to London Road. My roommates and I rarely eat out so we had no where to recommend except Posh Fish but we eliminated it from the choices because it has only about four tables, not enough for the eight of us. We ended up at the Royal Standard Pub, only two doors down from the Britannia where our pub crawl began.

The Royal Standard

The Royal Standard looked like a typical English pub with its thick wooden tables, bar, and white washed walls. Hanging on the wall to my right there was a flat screen television playing some kind of an Indian soap opera with the dialogue printed on the bottom of the screen. It was hilarious to watch the bad, over the top acting and the cheesy dialogue. The soap opera was followed by a comedy show where two women were trying to prove that they were not middle-aged by staying up all night in competition with their younger friend. They both ended up completely exhausted even after taking shots of coffee and Red Bull and finally resorted to eating coffee grounds. These both just seemed like such strange television programs to watch in a pub where you would expect to watch rugby or football (soccer).  

This third pub had almost the same food offerings as the Britannia, so I did end up ordering the Beef and Ale Pie. Libby, Amy and I shared a pitcher Fruit Salad, a drink containing orange juice, Smirnoff Ice, some kind of melon flavoring and lemonade (lemon-line soda). It was a pale green and slightly thick (probably from the orange juice), not at all what we were expecting. I only drank about half a glass because it had alcohol in it and I do not really feel comfortable drinking yet, even though I am of legal age in Europe.

It was nearly 9:00 pm when we got our food (we probably should have just stayed at the Britannia and we probably would have eaten by then). My dish came with the Beef and Ale Pie, brown gravy, peas, and a mound of mashed potatoes. The amount of mashed potatoes was probably the equivalent of at least one entire baked potato, probably more. The pie had very hard crust that was hard to cut, even with the knife, and contained only chucks of beef and gravy. I really did not care for the pie because it tasted to much like beer. I think I will stick to chicken and mushroom from now on, but at least I can say I have tried a traditional English dish.

Everything was going smoothly. We had finished our meals and were putting on our coats to leave when two men standing at the bar, about fifteen feet from us began shouting. They had been arguing loudly earlier then went outside, only to return to the pub a little while later. I had ignored them because I was listening to Mr. Stamm tell a story. Just as I stood up to put on my blazer, the two men whom I will call Green Shirt Man (GM) and Orange Shirt Man (OM) began to fight.

GM pushed OM to ground, hand around his throat. OM tried to kick GM, but GM grabbed onto his shirt and completely ripped off OM's shirt, in a manner quite reminiscent of the Hulk. Now, Orange Shirt Man was technically No Shirt Man. They began rolling around on the floor, hitting each other until they were at our table, though at the other end from where I was standing.

At this point I looked up, expecting to see one of the bar employees stepping in, or at least calling the police. The young man attending to the bar was just standing there smirking, like he was enjoying the free entertainment. He just stood there until another employee, a young blond woman, hit him in the arm and seemed to be telling him to get someone from the kitchen. I was absolutely amazed that he would just stand there and not do anything. I would think that anyone working in a bar would have some training as to what he or she should do if a fight broke out.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Amy walking to the door, and I automatically followed her, thinking that the safest course of action would be to leave. I missed the rest of the fight but Libby and Caitlin, who left after Amy and I, told us what happened.

Libby and Caitlin were moving to leave when GM, after banging OM's head into the floor, picked up a chair to hit OM with. That is when John, Mr. and Mrs. Stamm's friend, stepped in and told him to put down the chair. Mr. Stamm ushered Libby and Caitlin outside as a woman in the pub, presumably someone who knew the men, began yelling, "That is enough. Stop, that is enough." I could see through the window that Maureen, John's wife, was beckoning him to come with her and leave.

Once everyone was outside, all we could talk about was the fight. Caitlin, who was closer to the men than I was, said she saw blood all over OM's face after GM bashed his head into the floor. I am glad I left when I did because I really did not need to see that. Less than two minutes later an ambulance sped by in the direction of the pub, and we watched to see if that was where is would stop but I think it kept going. If it was going to the pub then their response time is amazing. Later, when we were nearly back to our dorm a police car raced passed us, blue lights flashing, and we guessed that was the response for the pub fight.

This was one of the few fights I have every seen in my life, the only one that involved grown men. During high school, there were several fights a year but I only witnessed two in my entire four years there. More than once I walked right by a fight and did not notice it because I was so focused on getting to class on time.

The evening was certainly eventful, though I am afraid it gave Amy's parents the impression that Oxford is a dangerous city when it is actually quite safe.

Assignments in a Stairwell

Turning in assignments should be easy, but at my university in England it is more of an ordeal. On Wednesday, an outline for a paper was due by 5:00 pm. Now, this was for one of my Thursday classes, and to me it makes much more sense to have it due on the day we have class, instead of a day early. This is compounded by the fact that the Business campus, where my Thursday classes are located, is a 25 minute bus ride each way for me. That is 50 minutes total of travel time needed to simply hand in an assignment.

Then, instead of turning it in to our professor, our assignment sheet only said to put the paper in the provided box in the Business Undergraduate Center. That was the only direction. It did not say which building is the Undergraduate Center (it is not labeled) and it did not specify where the box would be in that building.

So, on Wednesday, I finished up the outline and caught the 2:05 pm bus to the business campus. I entered the library to find that every computer was taken. After taking an awkward lap around the library, I found that every single computer was taken. Sitting down in a red arm chair among the bookshelves, I check my email on my iPod, waiting for someone to leave. Ten minutes later I made another lap and found a free computer.

Unfortunately, this computer was next to two boys speaking loudly in a foreign language, I am guessing German or some Eastern European language. I kept waiting for one of the people working at the main library desk to come over and tell them to be quite. It is a library after all, but no one did. I did some final editing to the outline and printed it.

Needing to find out exactly where the turn-in box was located, I asked the librarian hoping that he would know. He had absolutely no idea, and called someone who also had no idea. He was able to direct me to the building known as the Business Undergraduate Center. It actually turns out that this is a building I hang out in between classes. The first floor has a cafe and seating areas, but there are office upstairs.

Upstairs there were a lot of doors to choose from. I went left to a circular room lined with computers labeled at the "Student Help Area." Well, there was no one around to help me with my current predicament so I went back to the stairs and went right. One door had a small sign outside labeling it as the undergraduate office and I could see some people inside from the door window.

I opened the door to find about six desks arranged around the room with people behind them, all of whom were now staring at me. Nervous with all of their eyes on me, I managed to explain that I was trying to turn in a paper for a class. One woman with bob length blonde hair understood what I was asked and said, "You just go done the hall past the computer room and go down the stairs on the right. The boxes are just downstairs." I thanked her and followed her directions out of the room.

At the base of the stairs I was once again completely confused. There were several doors leading out of the stairwell but the woman had not given me any further directions. Searching around the stairwell, lit only by the sunlight drifting in through a window, I found the boxes behind the stairs. The boxes were about two feet tall, wooden with a slit cut into the front. There were six, a row of three stacked two high. Only three were labeled with a piece of paper stating the name and number of the class and the assignment due date. I slid my paper inside and my task was complete.

I understand why it might be save class time for everyone to hand in their assignments into a box and not directly to the teacher, especially in a class of over one hundred people. But why on Earth would you decided that the best place to put those boxes would be in the back corner of a building (one of the farthest from the campus entrance I might add), in a stairwell, behind the stairs. There are not even any signs to help people find it. I guess they just expect everyone to know where it is, or just have them wander around cluelessly like I did.

Injuries are a Part of Life

I have been very lucky so far in my life. I have had plenty of bumps and bruises but never have I broken a bone or cut myself bad enough to need stitches (I am going to disregard the two stitches I got when my wisdom teeth were removed since that was not the result of an accident). My cautious nature, even as a child, was probably the largest contributing factor to my good fortune. Since I began on my semester abroad, from packing to crossing the Atlantic to living here for month and a half, I have been injured four separate times, quite a high number for me. Don't worry, none were bad enough to warrant medical attention.

The most severe wound was gained while I was still in the United States but it has greatly affect me during my time in the UK. It was a Friday afternoon and I was packing my suitcase into the trunk of my car. My flight to England was not until Tuesday but my mother, sister and I were going to meet my father at the coast for the weekend. As I was shoving my sister's bag into the trunk, I pulled back my hand, rubbing it against the inside top of the truck. A mild pain shot from the middle knuckle on my left hand, and as I pulled it from the trunk to see the injury, I was shocked to find that the cut was very deep. I watched as the cut filled with blood, then, regaining my sense, I rushed into the house and grabbed a towel to staunch the blood. I specifically took a second to make sure that the towel was dark in color so that the blood would be harder to see. I applied pressure and went looking for my mother.

I found her in the kitchen an said, "Momma, I have a little problem." She turned to me, saw the towel pressed to my hand and immediately asked what happened. Throughout this time the cut barely hurt, probably since it was so deep and I felt fine. This changed quickly when she told me to sit down so that she could look at how bad it was. I could not help to think about how the gaping wound looked outside next to the car, and the more I thought about it, the more lightheaded I felt.

We applied pressure until most of the blood stopped, and while I hung my head between my knees, my mother put three bandaids over it to make sure it was completely covered. My nausea and lightheadedness continued until I knew that I was going to be sick. My mom took my arm and helped me to the bathroom, ten feet away. I made it to the bathroom doorway when my vision went black and I thought that I would faint, which I have never done in my entire life. I breathed through the blackness and my vision returned just in time to make it to the toilet to be sick.

After that terrifying experience of not being in control of my body, I felt much better. My mother brought me a pillow and blanket to lie on the bathroom floor and stay still while she went to pick up my sister from high school.  When they returned they finished packing the trunk, very carefully (I personally am still a little afraid of having put things in or take things out of my trunk). So, about two hours after all of this excitement began, we left on our drive to the coast. I spent the entire seven hour trip trying not to move or get sick every time I though about my injury.

I spent the next several days babying my hand and having my mother change the bandaids since I could not do it without feeling lightheaded. I was so afraid about having to go to another country with a rather serious, in my opinion, injury but by Tuesday it had sealed shut and partially healed.

Today I have a curved, half inch long scar on the middle knuckle of my left hand. It has actually healed very well. It is not raised with scar tissue and it is only a slightly darker pink than the rest of my hand. I think that the Vitamin E in my Unpetroleum Jelly (like petroleum jelly but without the oil and other chemicals) is what has made the scar look so nice in such a short amount of time.

-------- 0 --------

My next wound occurred several weeks into my stay abroad. My flatmates and I had gone into town to explore and then to shop at Tesco, a chain supermarket. As we were leaving, weighed down with our bags it began to rain. My black flats were soaked and began to rub against my heels. There was nothing I could go about the problem so I dealt with the pain of gradually forming blisters until we made it to the bus stop and rode back to our dorm.

After unpacking all of the groceries I put on some socks to warm up my wet feet and thought nothing more about the backs of my heels. When I woke in the night to a pain in my foot I thought that my socks were simply rubbing so I pulled them off, rolled over and went back to sleep.

In the morning, I got up and went to make myself breakfast, climbing down the four steps from our bedrooms to the kitchen hallway. This stepping motion made the backs of my heels burn so I looked down at them. Both of my heels were covered in dried blood. I am guessing that my wet shoes had rubbed the skin raw and then the blisters had popped during the night. Of course, as soon as I knew that the raw spots were there they began to hurt like crazy. I went about cleaning off the blood, applying antibacterial gel and bandaging. I had to wear thick socks and my boots for a week to allow them to heal and I remember that they were there every time I had to climb a hill and the skin stretched. I now have two new scars on the backs of my heels.

-------- 0 --------

The third injury is very minor but I am going to include it anyway. About two weeks ago I had the urge to bake, and since we had an entire zucchini to use (called a courgette in the UK) I decided to make Lemon Zucchini Muffins. However, it was more like bread than muffins since we do not have a muffin pan and I just pored the batter into the casserole dish to make it.

During one of the many checks to see if the bread was cooked through (the top was brown but the bottom didn't seem to want to cook), I managed to burn my hand on the top of the oven. Naturally it would be on the side of the same hand where my knuckle scar is. The skin turned pink and formed a small blister. I was very carful not to mess with it and eventually it formed a scab. I do think it is going to end up scarring, at least a little bit, which is disappointing because you want to have an interesting story to go with a scar, not simply "I burnt it making Lemon Zucchini Bread."

-------- 0 --------

I got my fourth injury this past weekend in Dublin, Ireland. Saturday, our first day in the city, we were walking around looking from someplace to eat dinner. It was dark and raining so we all had out our umbrellas. Amy and Libby walked in front sharing an umbrella (Amy forgot to bring hers) with Caitlin in the middle and myself at the back. I noticed a man walk by Libby and Amy, hand stretched out to hit Libby's umbrella. Libby saw him and pulled back, walking quickly by. Focusing on holding my umbrella and not slipping on the wet sidewalk, it came as a complete shock when a hand came rushing towards my face. The drunk man who tried to hit Libby's umbrella had just smacked me in the face with his entire hand, forcing my glasses into my nose. He just kept on walking, beer in his other hand. 

For several seconds, all  I could think was, "What if he broke my glasses? My spares are back in England and if they are broken I will not be able to see anything." At this time Caitlin noticed that I had fallen behind and turned to look for me. I told her in an incredulous voice that I had just been smacked full on in the face by a random man. My face was throbbing and I was trying not to cry, more from shock than actual pain. 

Caitlin and I caught up to Libby and Amy waiting at a cross walk and told them what had happened. Neither could believe that it had actually happened, and we continued to discuss the incident until we chose to eat at O'Shea's Restaurant. 

When I woke up in the hostel on Sunday morning I was afraid that I would have a bruise on my face. Running my fingers over my face, I could tell that my left cheekbone was slightly puffy. I did not want to disturb sleeping people in my room by climbing out of the top bunk and making a lot of noise so I waited. When everyone began to stir I climbed down the ladder from my blue top bunk and looked in the mirror. There were no bruises in sight, nor was the puffiness noticeable. I will admit, I was slightly disappointed. I kind of wanted a physical mark to go with the strange occurrence. 

Though this injury left the smallest mark, it is definitely the second most exciting of the four injuries I have gotten during my study abroad experience so far. Let's hope the next three months will not yield any more injuries to add to this list.