I am still alive...

I realised (how they spell it here) that I have not written in so long.  My tutorials have conveniently merged into the same day.  So now I have a weekly effort to provide 19-20 pages of writing on Thursdays.  And it is not like I can avoid the effects of producing less than good work, because I get immediate feedback, which means if it is not good I get to see the frown on my tutor's face and I have to struggle to answer questions about the topic.  It is a great motivation to work hard.  

But...I feel like I have been working a little too hard.  I think I am going to try to talk it over with my tutors.  By the way I think everyone should get to have a tutor they are wonderful.  

Here is a little story one of my tutors shared with me.  He brought it up when I finally confessed my envy.  "You know something about everything, you speak seven languages, and you have to tell me how you have been able to do this?"  He laughed at me, but you could see he took my frustration as a sort of compliment. 

"you know I felt the exact same way with my tutor, one in particular.  He recognized my attitude about the whole matter.  He finally said one day you know what why don't we just stop all this, because clearly you are not satisfied, what is the point?"  Dr. Crowe humbly laughed at his own story.  "I wanted to read everything, know everything, and I was so frustrated that I could not."  The solution his tutor came up with:  ignore the whole reading and writing papers and instead sit on some couches and discuss their for-fun-reading over a glass of wine.  He assured me that this would probably not be done nowadays but that it happened to him.  

Another friend of mine was at her breaking point and when she sent her paper to her tutor 25 minutes late she already had an email in her in box telling her that her tutor did not have time to read it before and to bring it to the office when she came.  This is was not a good sign.  The first thing her tutor asked her was "What is going on?"  When tears accompanied her words of stress and fear of not getting everything done her tutor threw the paper in her desk and they went for a walk.  Instead of working they went and toured Worcester College.  Her tutor related stories from her day as a student and showed her were Lewis Carol was inspired to write Alice and Wonderland.  

It has been great here, it is hard, but great.  

Everyone Is Watching

It is almost 10p.m.  I am about to head out for the night.  Tonight is election day.  What I have discovered is that everyone around the world will be watching.  I have never had so many people violate that sacred pact of not asking who you voted for.  I will save you from violating it too.  The JCR (Junior Common Room), which is like the hang out spot for St. Peters students are having a election night party.  There will be hot dogs, hamburgers, and Budwiser.  Supposedly the essence of America.  

I hope you have voted.  Even if you believe the your vote doesn't count.  At least take some ownership.  Okay enough of that.

It is incredible to me how much others know about our politics.  I was working out in the gym.  One of the screens, out of four, broadcasted live from the states about election updates.  Tonight will be a great night.  It will change our country, and some how every other country too.  Just know as you are watching your tv sets in America, so are the English.  Probably the Spanish, those Germans, and everyone else.  I hope we all have made a right decision.  

When Dallas and South of France Met

Antoine and Nelly greet us at the airport

The view from the porch the first night we arrived in Eze Village, 11thC. Castle

Exploring the castle the first night with Dorian and Becca

Our view during the day

It is Time...

So two weeks ago I was basking in French sunlight.  Today I was soaked in ultraviolet rays that came through overcast English skies.  I thought reminiscing memories with you all would bring a little France to England.  I fear this might get a little long, but only because there is so much to share, so I have titled each section.  You can read it all or just what sparks your interest. 

Little Boy Road Kill

The trip started out hectic.  That Thursday all of us had finished a three hour test.  I was in the middle of a cold. And we found out ten minutes before our bus left for the airport that our third companion, Becca was flying from a different airport than us (Dorian and I).  They ran up to Dorian's room to try to figure it all out, so when I came down stairs I concluded they headed to the bus.  With only ten minutes till the bus left, I ran down the last flight of stairs, and with heavy force pushed the door open.  A hallow thud...and a the sound of hands slapping against the cement.  If there are any children reading, shield your eyes and cover your ears. 

 Imagine a fiercest English accent you can, "What the fuck are you doing you wanker! What is wrong with you! He was just standing there.  Who the fuck opens the door like that you shit!"  Screamed the obscene mother of a very small boy.  I stood their stunned, he couldn't have been much older than three.  Self punishment seemed appropriate so I stood there longer than necessary and endured the ceaseless verbal abuse from mama bear.  I felt a minute and a half was appropriate punishment which if followed up by repeating, "I am sorry," for about another minute and then took off running.  

When I got to the bus there were no traveling companions.  In between huffs I asked a man on the bus to watch my stuff.  My flip-flops flopped, as I sprinted the 800 yards back to the dorm.  Dorian and Becca stood outside confused.  "We gotta run," I yelled to them.  Becca decided that weekend trip was an just reason to use her ex-large backpacking bag. So we all sprinted together, as I held Becca's bag up with my right hand so she could run faster.  Explanations of the flight mix up came in between gasps of air. 

We reached the bus as the untrustworthy gentleman I asked to watch my stuff was putting it on the curb.  "We are here I yelled as I rushed the bus.  Angry grimaces met my flush face, while the bus driver scolded Dorian, "Stupid American Students!"  Our sweaty bodies rested against the seat as we waved to Becca.  She stayed behind to catch a bus to the other airport.  As we turned the corner Dorian said melancholily, "I hope she makes it."  

French Kisses

Flying into Nice was spectacular.  The city glittered in the water.  "It looks like San Francisco from up here," I said to myself.  

We went through immigration and I got my Nice stamp on my passport.  When we walked out the door, an elderly man jumped up.  He grabbed Dorian and christened his checks with kisses, one for each side.  I was so caught in the moment of Dorian and his grandfather that I nearly missed mine.  A little lady about half my size, stood in front of me with her head lifted up.  "My grandma does not speak a word of English," I remembered Dorian saying.  I bent down, and received my first authentic French kiss.  

Becca slowly moved into the picture and we were all united.  Dorian and his grandparents (Antoine and Nelly), and Becca.  I was a little jealous because as we walked to the parking lot I noticed red lipstick on Becca's check, my kiss from Nelly's didn't leave any lipstick.  The warm weather even a night was great.  We watched Nelly and Antoine walk slowly hand and hand to the car, they are precious.  

The First Night

We winded in an out of roads until we arrived in Eze Village.  The house we were staying at was directly across from a 11th Century Castle and the Mediterranean.  It was beautiful at night.  Nelly made prepared for us some french food: couscous, cheese, french bread, pepperoni.  We ate and ate.  Then we went for a hike and climbed the castle.  It was like a movie set, but real, I kept pressing against buildings to make sure it was more than a facade. 

The First Morning

Nelly woke up at 5 a.m. to start making us breakfast.  There was a feast, fresh croissants, orange juice, fruit, cheese, and almond d' cigar.  Almonde d' cigar (spelled differently than a second ago because unsure of spelling) are crepe like bread filled with honey and almonds and then fried.  Ooooh so good.  We all showered and got ready for the day.  

I spent a lot of time in Eze on the balcony looking at the castle and the Mediterranean, and with Cookie.  Mr. Cookie is a rodent/dog that I some how started liking.  When I was trying to enjoy the sun, Cookie would come and throw his squeaky toy before me. Usually on any other occasion I would just let it stay there.  But because I was in such a good mood, I picked that thing up and Cookie and I played like that for the whole trip.  I never grew tired and he certainly couldn't, some sort of dog gene prevents it. 

There is more to come: beautifully crafted stories, breath taking pictures, and fun thrilled video...stay tuned...I am tired for the night. 

Sometimes great is not good with out not-so-great

Wahoooo!  I just returned from my tutorial with my 17th Century tutor.  It was vastly different than last week.  Okay, not vastly, but enough that I feel much more confident.  I was working on my paper until 11:30pm.   The tutor said I had "read widely and obviously got into the topic."  That is great news compared to last weeks feedback.  I also liked that When he asked my questions I did not freeze up and utter a defeated "I don't know."  This week I was able to respond, I showed I knew more than my paper demonstrated.  I don't know if this would feel so successful if I didn't have last weeks unsuccessful attempt.  Cheers!

"Uhh, I don't know..."

So I just returned from my first official tutorial experience.  Luckily for me mine is rather kind.  I have heard of some tutors just shredding papers and crushing the academic spirit of others.  As for me, i feel a little defeated.  Not because he said I did poorly, but because I want an honest tutorial experience but I feel like I just did not know my stuff going in there.  I mean he is an expert in his field and he reads my half developed ideas and asks me questions, which with some frequency I say, "I don't know," as my face gets a little red.   

I know this was the first time and that I will get the hang of this new system but right now, it is quite the adjustment.  Tomorrow I have my other tutorial, so I better get started on my 10 page paper.  I will not give up, but boy this is quite the load.  Or maybe its not and I should...okay I don't know what I should do but something besides getting disappointed in myself.  

I Was Sworn In

     

The libraries at Oxford are serious about their books.  I knew they were important, but experiential learning has taught how serious.  Last week I was sworn into the Bodleian library.  They ushered us into a wooden clad room, which during the 17th C. while in civil war, Parliament used this room to meet.  I sat against the historic benches and listened to the history of the library (a quick Wiki), and the rules which deserve their own sentence.  So there is no drinks, no food, no smoking, no taking out books, and absolutely no fire.  I guess it is a rule that has been in place since before there was electricity, but even then no candles.  

I was so excited about the whole thing.  We had to go up two at a time and get sworn in.  I read the Bodleian Oath, raised my right hand (which was not necessary but I felt it sealed the deal), and then received my Bodleian card, which gives me access to the largest library in England. Pretty great stuff.

The inspiration came from my first visit to the Library.  I had to order three books from the stacks.  The "stacks"  is huge area with many floors built under the ground of the Bodleian.  When you order a book it is pulled by someone in the stacks and then placed on a conveyer that runs underground to the study room that you request.  

Every student should have a library to study at like the Bodleian.  Just the architecture requires a reverence for books and study.  I know that I learned more than I would in my room, just because of the environment.  Chills literally ran down my body as I sat there studying, I was were I have dreamt about for so long.  It is everything I have hoped it would.  

The picture at the top left is of the outside of the Bodleian Radcliff and Old Library, the picture at top right is of the room we were sworn into, and the bottom is of me getting sworn in and then with my official Bodleian card.

                                                                  

The Master!

Today was the first day I met with my tutor for my tutorial on Monarchy to Liberty in the 17c. I was impressed by how relatable he was and the excitement he had for his subject.  Our meeting only lasted for about 15 minutes but it was good overall.  He is emailing me my reading list, and my first essay will be due next Thursday, 2000 words, about 7 pages.  This is definitely what I was hoping for, a new look into education.  Well new to me but not to the education world. 

The Great 90's

So as I study the wonderful Middle Ages, I have been listening to pop music from the 90's.  Here are some of my favorites in no particular order:

1.  Savage Garden, "Affirmation"

2. La Bouche "Sweet Dreams"

3. Haddaway, "What is Love"

4. Third Eye Blind "Semi-Charmed LIfe"

4.5. No Mercy "Where do you go" (I do not think it actual makes the list but I had the CD once so I have to be consistent. right?)

5. Suzanne Vega "Tom's Dinner"

6. Lit "My Own Worst Enemy"

7. Hanson "Mmm Bop"

You can click on the title to see the video.  Share your favorites.  Or just remember the 90's

On Becoming a Nerd but First the New Method

So I have decided that there will be no more of this sitting down once a week to write about life here at Oxford.  I will right when inspired and when I have something to say.  So hopefully I will be inspired more often since I am in the center of Oxford.

Now on becoming a nerd.  It is funny how in high school and dare I say some of college I still feared learning and being the "nerd." I wanted to be cool or some component of cool.  Now, I cannot sit here and say I would not like to be cool, but that being a nerd here is precisely that, cool.  I have heard people say things like, "oh that is so dante (as if a usual act of some friend)," or "I think I would marry Aristotle if here was right here,"  or even updating their current status on face book as, "Maggie is that than which a greater cannot be thought (a by product of reading Anselm of Canterbury's work Proslogion )."  

All to say is that I am really enjoying the environment, and hope to embrace the hidden and untapped nerdiness (a new word is in order) that I know I have.  I love to learn, and this place continues to feed that hunger.  Thanks for reading and if you feel so inclined, embrace your nerdiness.

Amsterdam

Red Light Means Stop?

 So I have waited to write, okay I just haven't written, but part of that is I am still trying to digest Amsterdam.  This time last week I was walking down the streets of Amsterdam trying to find somewhere to eat.  Now I sit in front of my computer to tell you about it.  

For those of you who are not familiar, Amsterdam is... shall we say rather open.  They have legalized prostitution which we have in certain states, they have legalized marijuana which we have done in certain states but for medical purposes, and they legalized hallucinugic mushrooms, we have not gone that far.  What is interesting is that it is normal there.  

The "Red Light District," is the street that all the prostitutes carry out their home businesses.  They rent windows for a rate and then stand in them and try to shake their hips to get passerby's to bite.  A new fiend, Dorian and I went and secured the only available Hostel (more on that later).  Which was situated right in the heart of Amsterdam, which is a euphmism we learned for Red Light District.  

Marijuana is sold at "coffee shops."  So if you are Amsterdam I suggest not meeting for a nice conversation over a cup of coffee.  The interesting thing is that smoking in public places is not legal, so what are the "coffee shops" to do.  Well they are safe you see because marijuana is a drug and that is still legal.  The other conundrum is that it is legal to buy "magic mushrooms," just as long as they are fresh because then they are considered "produce." As soon as they are dried they are an illegal substance.  The point being is that they do things very different there.  Enough about all that.  

   

Canals and Van Gogh

Amsterdam outside of the Red Light District is a very attractive city.  The city is built around canals.  And who doesn't appreciate walking next to a calm canal.  

For me I think the highlight was visiting the Van Gogh Museum.  It is an incredible look into the life of a painter and how his work evolved.  Things I learned:

• He was not always crazy
  
• His brother was very dear to him
  
• Painting was not his first occupation and only came to painting late into his life
  
• He never trained or went to school to become an artist
  
• Literature sometimes spoke more to him than the Bible.

One thing I learned, that I am now committed to.  Traveling in Europe is great, but just jumping on a plane (while spontaneous and good fun) and just arriving can sometimes be more than you recconed for.  Also I think your experience is so much more when you can stay with someone which leads me to the Hostel. 

Apocalypse Now!

This title may seem misplaced but it is not.  Let me start by letting you in on the little known fact that I did not enjoy this classic film.  So you think once I arrived at the front door of my hostel I was less than enthusiastic about my "Apocalypse Now" theme room.  The room was painted completely in red and black.  There is nothing like waking up to the "bomb scene" wallpapered on an entire wall across from you.  The bathroom was aptly painted all black and was lit by a 2 inch light over the sink.  So you can imagine the effort it was to wash yourself in the dark.  The thing that probably made it okay was our water fountain in the corner of the bathroom, which some might mistake for a toilet but those have handles and sound nothing like a water fountain.  

The upside was that our beds where made for us every morning and breakfast prepared down in the lobby.  However on the second day we discovered that the guy was very efficient in cleaning because the sheets were never taken off nor washed the whole time we were there.  I felt bad for those beds next to me who had different people in them each night, but the same sheets.  Who knows maybe mine were a month old.  With no expiration date there is just no way to tell.  Breakfast could not have been finer, cheese and salami, red bell pepper, hard boiled egg, and congealed honey.  And right about now I know you are wondering how such elegant amenities and superb service cost one?  Well if you come into town when all of Las Vegas' business men have come to Amsterdam it is about 120 euros or roughly about $180 per person.   Now please I ask that you not all jump on a plane and book a stay at "The Heart of Amsterdam Hotel,"  because you may not all be so lucky to stay in the "Apocalypse Now" "suite." 

Here are some pictures to suit your fancy, although I did not think to truly document my hostel experience, but the rest of Amsterdam is all yours (via pictures). 

click here

Also a video of biking in Amsterdam

a quick update

So recently I visited Amsterdam.  There is much to tell, just not now.  In dew time I will share my whole experience and I think it is something you all will be interested.  Until then I have some pictures of a recent trip to some cathedrals and ruins, if that doesn't peek your interest King Arthur's tomb is involved.  Here is the link to the pictures enjoy. 

Click Here

If doesn't work copy and paste this address:

http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2023891&I=70c8e&id=65800660

P.S. at the bottom of each picture there should be a description for you to read. 

Ready Set Lecture!

So Lectures began on Monday and wheew they are amazing.  There is nothing more exciting than learning about a whole world, a whole time period that always confused me.  Each lecturer that comes has their own niche of expertise and when they share they are so passionate.  I will have two lectures per day for the next month until Michaelmas term begins.  There is something fantastic I realized today.  We don't ask questions during lectures, they don't ask us to ask questions.  Instead, we are given a bibliography for each lecturer and then on our own we are supposed to find answers to our questions or read more on what interests us.  It is such an beautiful way of teaching.  

Yesterday we learned about whether or not the medieval period owed any credit to Rome, and about the medieval Bible.  Today Augustine of Hippo was presented, and then the effect of monasteries on the medieval world.  It is almost someone is presenting a secret map to how our civilization matured into what it is today.  

I must also admit that I really know very little about this time period. Monday I sat down with one of our text "Carolingian Culture: emulation and innovation," and I felt that opened up a foreign book.  I could read the words but they did not register with any special meaning or made medieval culture any more understandable.  That diminished a little today.  I know things will begin to weave together so I can look at the larger tapestry of the Medieval and Renaisance history (acknowledgment to Rhetoric and Dr. Spencer).  

I am also working on being myself.  Everyone here is very knowledgeable in many areas, can sometimes talk extensively on things I have never heard of.  There are times I want to pretend and nod my head as if I agree, or insert a sentence with a tone that says, "yeah I already knew that," when really I don't.  I have been trying to be honest with what I know and be enough of a student to learn from my peers and admit when I do not know what they are talking about.  Well those are my most current thoughts, read them with the knowledge they can and will change abruptly.  

One more quick thing, more of a request.  I am going to Amsterdam this weekend and If anyone knows someone there I would love to stay with someone local than just at a hostel.  Two good reasons are that it saves a student from exhausting their bank account too early and I would much rather learn about the culture than see all the sites, which only comes from someone who is from there. 

Cheers! (by the way my English accent has greatly improved)

A view from my world

There is something to be said for ledges.  They invite me to feel free.  Now I don't always find myself with the gift of a ledge but my room has just been made perfect, or at least much more enjoyable.    The building I live in has developed over many years and the layout makes no sense but one thing does, my ledge.  I discovered that the large window opens up to a beautifully private ledge.  Joy filled me and I knew I had to share it with you all.  I sit out here now.  The city talks to me as I think.  The rain purifies the air giving my lungs a cleansing massage. Down to the right under a windowsill lives some pigeons who just gave birth to two babies.  The whole area is just hopping with life.  It will be one of my favorite places and I wanted to make sure you knew about it.  

When I walked out of the terminal gate the large bay windows were filled with musty grey clouds. "I have arrived to the U.K.," I thought to myself.  Clouds usually have an antagonizing effect on my feelings.  But these clouds finally helped me realize my plan to study in England was not just a conversation starter but reality. 

As my body glided past the window (not because I was so excited but because I was physically carried by the moving walkway) against the backdrop of London clouds, what I was doing made since.  This was at least a four year dream that was actualizing with every inch i moved.  What you don't know is that I have sat in my room at this same spot for maybe an hour trying to deliver words that will capture the moment and they are just not here yet.  So I will concede this point.  I cried.  I tried with an honest effort not too but I did.  My hope is that my 2 inch glasses obscured the tears, but maybe they magnified it.  

It took me two hours to get my baggage, customs can do that.  A quick side not is if you are going to the U.K. to study you do not need a visa, do something better with your $200.  Okay one more detour, I am rooting for the U.K. to have a recession because my $200 evaporated into 94 pounds.  So if you believe in prayer go ahead and insert that into a prayer now an then. 

The bus ride from London to Oxford was great, for the most part.  The windows are large and clear so I can get a full view of the lovely landscapes.  The downside is that it smelt like a recently new shoe that had been worn by a slightly smelly but sweaty foot.  I will leave you hear because a bunch of us are going to go explore and maybe visit the Eagle and Child (Where C.S. Lewis used to hang out).  

My adventure to Oxford really began in New York.  I had originally booked my ticket in hopes to see a good friend, Josh Cave.  I missed seeing Jcave (who is not in NY yet, but on his way to greatness), but met a stranger who may or may not have taught me something.  

So I determined that JFK had to be close to the city, but the day before I looked up directions for walking on google and realized the distance was too far to walk.  On the China town bus I decided I needed to ask someone for help.  I usually try and was tempted to find it on my own.  But I asked for help.  This guy who I had never met guided me through the streets of NYC to a subway, helped carry my luggage down and up flights of stairs, help me purchase the right metro ticket, find a way to get my luggage into the subway, and rode on the J-train with me so that he could put me on the A-train himself.

The thing that surprised me was that never did I sense a hint of "what is in it for me." When he ushered me into the A-train I thought he was coming with me and I could offer him some money out of thanks or my address so I could return his favor.  But, he just placed me on the train with a smile and waved goodbye.  I do not think he ever wanted anything in return.  

As I struggle and work through my thoughts about Jesus I am sometimes impressed by the way I am encouraged toward him by people who speak nothing of Jesus.  

Another thing, I hesitate to write this because I have not decided how open I want to be on "the web," I really wanted someone from my house (Ivanwold)  to come with me because I really did need help to find my way in New York.  I was overwhelmed to be on my own.  It was on my mind the whole way to Oxford how a complete stranger could give of themselves and how I did not feel like I was on my own. 

Oxilanding

This is just to say that I have arrived. In Oxford.