I feel like I don't need to say anything else except:
1. The food was actually spectacular,
2. The men really are romantics,
3. The monuments are incredibly breathtaking, and
4. No, but seriously, the food.
Getting to Rome was impossible, and honestly, had it not been for Mr Bell, it probably wouldn't have happened. But, to avoid me getting all in a huff again in attempts to describe to you my new born hatred for the National Express bus system, you can always ask me about my Roman endeavors personally, so I can really embellish and justify the way I feel and how much I loathe bus stations.
ANYWAY, I made it, some eight hours later, and finally found Kate in Termini Station for the beginning of five wonderful days with one of my besties in Rome :)
I feel like no matter what, Rome will be best described in pictures (and I took over 100! Can you believe it?) Also, I apologize for how awful some of these pictures are, my camera is quite old and not of the greatest quality.
We went to the Christmas Market, which was filled with crepes and candies and donut-y goodness, and lots of toys and jewelery and cute Merry-go-rounds. We bought awesome little leather bracelets and sat by the fountain and ate gelato. Life's so hard sometimes, y'know?
After that, it was basically a big adventure of waiting/finding buses, more gelato and crepes, a lot of home cooked pasta, and pizza to go. Pizza here is just like, the ultimate snack. They sell it everywhere, by the square piece, and you get it and continue walking. SO MUCH WALKING.
Trevi Fountain! This was amazing, a stopping point for the aqueducts that are still running! A very romantic spot, as well, Kate and I got cozy ;)
We so cute.
Sorry I didn't turn this picture on the right side, but, 1. I don't know how, and 2. I just really wanted to show you the lights! How cool? This is on the most famous shopping street in Italy. We went for you mum! Although they wouldn't let us in Feragammo... there were chefs in there walking around serving tumblers of really cool coloured alcoholic beverages, and something tells me they didn't like the look of our fake leather jackets...
*sigh* so beautiful.
I think my favourite part, besides being with Kate (awwwwww :) ) was definitely the Vatican museum (I have now seen the School of Athens in person. How crazy is that? I have this poster in my dorm at the COW!) and St Peters Basilica. I'll post some pictures, but I'm really sorry at how bad the quality of my camera is, it's pretty old.
This is Laocoon. I have studied Latin and the Aeneid throughout my high school career, and this statue is so monumental in Roman history and I actually stood in front of it to take this picture. How fantastic is that?
This is Rafael's School of Athens. I guess back when he was commissioned to make this fresco, "philosophy was the hip thing" and so he painted all the philosopher's hanging out and philosophizin'. Pretty badass (excuse my language, but there's really no other word for it. Plato and Aristotle are arguing right in the middle of it!)
This is in St Peter's Bisillica. It was so cool to be standing in the building that I've watched the Pope deliver Midnight Mass to every Christmas Eve. Plus, there were people singing and praying in it while we walked around, so it even felt more alive.
I have to write to long essays and an abstract of the Nicomachean Ethics over break.
Thank God the rugby team just decided to factor in study session for the Portugal Tour. I'll sure as hell need them.
ahhh... finally...
a nice Subway wrap in my tummy, my head feeling better from my freak two-day sinus infection, a ticket to Lancaster to see the Mz. Hunter tomorrow, and Modern Warfare 3, with my bffl, on a comfy couch.
So much has happened in the last two weeks, and now, it's all done. I can't believe it.
I have completed my first semester at Oxford.
And my "grades"?
They're solid.
Yes.
Anyway, let's start with the Sunday of Eighth week, yeah?
My parents left the day before, and I worked all day in the library to try and catch up. Come dinner, I was ready to have fun.
We all put our nice clothes on, our gowns, and made our way to Wolfson. I was sitting between the Americans and all my new English friends :) Except Fez, he was sitting with the Christian Union :( but that's ok, because Tom and I threw little peas at him throughout the meal to remind him of his poor choice in seating, it's a lot harder to throw peas at someone right next to you.
The dinner was amazing, and we had twice as much wine as usual. And, we all know wine tastes better when you're wearing those little Christmas crowns you get out of the Christmas poppers and everyone around you (besides Sam sitting next to you) is speaking in a British accent.
After our really amazing food, the principle smacked his gavel and stood up on his chair, drunk as a skunk and said: "This Christmas dinner, we will not be departing with our usual graces, but instead, in song. Everybody!" and with that, the moment Matt had been bracing me for for weeks came:
the singing.
We all stood on our chairs with our extra bottles of wine and belted out Christmas tunes like, Good King Wenceslas and We Wish You a Merry Christmas but the best, the best of all was yet to come: Teddy Bears Picnic. Matt had been complaining about having to sing this for the past two weeks, so, naturally, I couldn't wait. Apparently "Teddy Bears Picnic" is a beloved nursery rhyme that many and many a drunk generations of Teddy Hallers love to sing. So, what do we do?
We BELT it!
And what does Bjorn do? (The JCR chairman and good friend of mine)
He puts on Teddy Hall's Teddy mascot costume and dances and pelvic thrusts up the aisles of formal hall, dancing with Josh (JCR VP).
Matt, obviously, is horrified, and refuses to sing and downs his wine. But, us Americans, and Tom, we're diggin' it! We're dancing, laughing at Bjorn and signing about Teddy Bears dancing in the woods. It was jolly good.
And, of course, we ended it all with a cheer led by Bjorn and Josh: TEDDY TEDDY TEDDY!
HALL HALL HALL! TEDDY TEDDY TEDDY!
HALL HALL HALL! TEDDY!
HALL! TEDDY!
HALL! TEDDY TEDDY TEDDY!
HALL HALL HALL!
After dinner, we all went to the Half Moon for a few and retired to my room to finish off the wine. Nothing like good company in small spaces. Fez, Tom, Matt, Sam, J and Janosz, thanks for being in my Michaelmas term. I love knowing you guys :)
Monday through to Wednesday was just awfully busy.
Rugby practice extended forty five minutes, I was getting sick, and I just didn't have enough in me to finish my essays. I mean, they were finished, it's just, I could not convince my mind to work harder, to take that extra hour in the library, to reread a source, or even my essay. It was tough.
I thought I had been mentally exhausted at the COW during finals, or that one inevitable week where all your projects and readings and essays are due within a day of one another, but, nothing, NOTHING compared to this. I just couldn't think anymore. It was the weirdest sensation. I would randomly stick periods in the middle of my sentences. I would forget to do things like put on socks. I felt like Garrett Thomson. Or like in hockey, when you skate so hard you can't feel your legs anymore, except, it your mind.
Anyway, I've had a day of rest, and tomorrow, I'm headed off to see ANNIEZ! (my turn, Clint! :P )
All of your English friends coming up to you today and going:
"Hahppy Thanksgiving! Yeah?"
Because, they know you're celebrating something, they're just not quite sure what... or how, or... why, even. The thought is what counts though, and it's pretty cute.
I'm thankful for this experience. But, I feel (at least, hope) that you all know that.
And, I'm thankful for those of you who read my blog, because it means you're at least thinking about what I've been up to :)
Don't worry, I'm thinking about you, too. I miss you!
Sorry for my lack of updates, but, the family's here so I've kind of been enjoying my time with them. Don't worry, there will be pictoral evidence soon.
Saturday:
I had rugby in the morning, and then upon showering, my mum, dad, sister and Aunt Gaby just showed up at Dawson! <3
We checked them into their little cabin in the next town over (Marston) and then met up with the Whitmores for a good dinner at a good pub.
Sunday:
We woke up and made bacon samiches with the Whitemores and hung out like it was 1997 and we were back in Africa. Around four we went into Oxford to watch the football match and hit the hay early.
Monday:
Monday was our Oxford day. The Whitmores went back to Manchester and I took Gab, Em, mum and dad around Teddy Hall and Oxford and they met all my friends :}
After rugby practice, we went to go watch the men's Blues rugby team get their buts kicked by the Saints and Emily slept over.
We basically had a dance party and acted like 13 year olds until Matt came and harassed us into the wee hours of the morning.
Tuesday:
We sent the adults shopping and Emi and I worked in the library until Primark was CALLING us. We could NOT resist. I got some cute outfits for the FOUR formal halls I'm attending this week.
Then, I took mum and dad to formal hall, where they met Fez, Janosz and Sam, and we watched Matt have to sit at the High Table. Hysterical. Dad and Fez has INTENSE conversations about God and physics all night long. It was awesome.
Wednesday:
The family went to London for the day, because I had a four hour rugby practice and tutorial today. That's about it :(
Today I had the most amazing experience with a complete stranger.
(Mum and Dad, prepare to palm your foreheads...)
His name is Pete.
I sat down across from Lizzie in the library today and next to some stranger. I hurled all 1,000 pages of The Brothers Karamazov onto the desk and began to attack it. The stranger next to me puts his hand on the book and goes:
"Wait, you study Russian?"
"Uhm... yeah. I guess so."
"Really?"
"Maybe?"
"You're reading Dostoevsky..."
"Wh-uhm... Yes, yes I am. I'm taking a literature class on him."
"Just him? Really? So like, he's your man, you know everything about him?"
"I guess so, yeah."
"Hi, I'm Pete."
Our conversation carried on for about fifteen minutes until he realized I can't actually speak Russian (God, I am so lame.). I know, I'm a horrible, horrible person. I'm a fake. How can I really even love Dostoevsky if I never actually get to read his words?
"Why aren't you learning?!"
(*insert Mum and Dad face palms*)
"Why? Because! Because I can't just decide to learn a completely new language with a completely new alphabet, and let alone do this at OXFORD."
"Why the bloody hell not?! Oxford will pay for someone to teach you! Just tell college you want to learn Russian to read Dostoevsky. Do it. Do it now. Do it tomorrow!"
PEOPLE HERE JUST LOVE TO LEARN! AHHH, I LOVE ITTT!
Admittedly, I don't really recall the weekend before this last one, but I know I stayed in and worked long hours in the library getting as much work as I could before my birthday weekend and Annie's arrival. It was a nice choice though, because Matt was in the same boat, and we had really nice conversations on our late-night walks back to Dawson Street and into the wee hours of the morning. I think I've found yet another great friend.
Sunday morning was my first rugby game, and woah. Let me tell ya,
Gurnsey was the team we played, and they were a club team, not a university team, so they were 30-40 years of age. The coaches prepared us before hand to "expect some bigger girls, but not to worry, because of all the fitness training we've been doin we would be bloody fahstah. Also, since they're so big, you'll get used to a soft tackle which is perfect for your first game, because it's cushy, landing on a faht person!"
They were wrong on so, so many levels.
Falsity # 1. These women were MASSIVE. And they were not strong, they were FAT.
Their mini vans pulled up to Marston (our rugby fields) and they all piled out in their Halloween "fancy dress" (here, that means costume) and my jaw hit the ground. Jessamy (our #3) was polite enough to click my mouth shut for me and then grab me as I went weak in the knees.
Falsity #2. We could not out run them, for they took up the ENTIRE LENGTH OF THE PITCH.
I was amazed at not only their size, but how much better these fat women covered the field compared to our, generally speaking, smaller squad. I was worried for Sagey (our fly half). Although, I'm sure her smack-talk would melt the calories off of this team if they heard her. Oh, wait... they did. (I'll leave the vulgarity out of this blogpost, for now.)
Falsity #3. We were never tackled. We were THROWN OUT OF THE WAY.
Yes. And, if you can believe it, this hurts way, way more. Crouch, touch, pause, engage, scrum scrum scrum scrum, OHP!, someone's got you round the shoulder--smack, cold, hard, ground. And a fat, cackling, old woman runs off, going to grab another team mate.
muddy and gross. (there, Annie, I now give you permission to put up disgusting pictures of me post-rugby)
Anyway,
Monday and Tuesday were tough. Lots of work to get done before my birthday, Thursday, which Danny, Matt and the Americans kept hinting at the awesomeness of. Also, I felt as if I may never move properly again after our game with Gurnsey. Monday night's practice consisted of blood, sweat, mud, and puke (sorry, guys, but it is the truth).
Tuesday was even more rough. I'll let you just assume why. Not to mention my Russian tutorial with Dr Crazy-Ass-Dog-Lady-Who-Lets-Her-Precious-"Cosmo"-Paw-At-My-Crotch-All-Lesson-And-Drool-On-My-Legs was just "ok." I mean, seriously, can I just have an A for putting up with that God forsaken bloody animal?! I even LOVE dogs, and I can't stand this creature.
Wednesday was a riot. OUWRFC (the girls' university rugby team) social. What does this consist of? Attempting to get Sage, Tats (the starting #8) and the coaches schwasted.
Here, drinking games are much more sophisticated. The team goes out to a nice, fancy restaurant in themed clothes. Our theme: NEON.
"Why, yes, we are the University of Oxford Women's Rugby Team, and... what's that? ... yes, you are correct, sir, I am wearing a highlighter yellow tu-tu. Did you come up with that all by yourself?"
Then, the scontzing begins.
Sage: "I SCONTZ ANYONE WHO IS OLDER THAN 30"
Al: "I SCONTZ ANYONE WHO LEFT THEIR NUMBER 10 OPEN TODAY IN THE GAME"
Tats: "I SCONTZ ANYONE WHO HAS A DAUGHTER"
Al: "I SCONTZ ANYONE WHO WILL BE HUNGOVER IN PRACTICE"
Team: "DRINK AL, DRINK!"
Scontzing is basically calling someone out on something. You get up, scontz them ("I scontz anyone reading this blog right now") and who ever is reading this blog (you.) would have to drink.
Then, after dinner, as a team (except for Al and Duggers), we head for some more team building skills at a four level club called Lava Ignite.
Thursday was pretty uneventful as far as the day goes. Slept in (I allowed myself to, it was my birthday!) and then had rugby super late at 6:45. I ate dinner with Jessie (other fly half), and then we cycled to practice. It was supposed to be just a drills day, so I was kind of happy, because Isabel let it leak that my friends were throwing me a surprise party at 9:30 and practice got out at 9, so I figured if the drills weren't too hard, I'd be off the hook for having to struggle with my hair too much post-shower.
Wrong.
(When will I ever learn that I will never be right about rugby?)
After drills, we did FITNESS. And it was AWESOME. (Anyone picking up the sarcasm? Anyone?)
Because in rugby, you do everything as a team, or in a line, we did all of our sprints hold hands. Why? you may ask.
because Al said so
because Al said so
because Al said so
"because you're only as fahst as your slowest player... and if your slowest player cared about her team, she'd work her arse off to go fahster!"
Then we did wheelbarrows, mountain climbers, jumping jacks, press ups, sit ups, squats, high skips, and piggy backs. ...I don't want to talk about piggy backs.
The birthday party was great though! So many people! I couldn't believe I had made so many friends in just the month and a half I'd been here. And they weren't even all Americans! Let's see, Milly, Isabel, Janosz, Nick, Kelsi, Penn, Talie, Lizzie, Sabrina, Danny, Patrick, Mike, Sam, Danny, Matt, J, Bjorn and two randoms from Mike's uni tennis team were there. It was good fun!
won't name them all here, picture's too small, but Danny and Sabrina came from LMH and Pembroke to celebrate!
my birthday cake! shaped like a rugby ball and full of refueling calories! made by Lizzie and Isabel :}
We partied all night in Dawson and kept trying to go out to a club, because, according to Aaron, all I wanted to do last year at my surprise party at the frat house was dance, "I jus wanna dance you guys." But, alas, this year, we didn't make it to dancing either.
However, I DID make it to breakfast. That's right. Haha! Birthday girl got up at 7:40 and was eating toast, poached eggs and sausage 20 mins later. Take that, Sailor Jerry! Oh, wait, I win!
Later that day I picked up Ms. Hunter, and needles to say, we had a pretty bad ass but totally chill weekend. Friday night I took her to formal dinner with Fez and Sabrina (again, visiting from Pembroke--she's so good to me), where, if you follow her blog, you'll know Fez posed the question: What gives someone value? We still haven't come up with an answer, really... Fez says Jesus, I say some innate "human-ness," but, what do we know?
Then I took her to the college bar, and we hit Camera for a night out at the club. This has been my jams ever since:
Saturday, I woke up at 8 am and got my ass handed to me in rugby fitness. Concussion and hurt rotator cuff, all in a day's work.
Then Annie and I went for cream tea and off to the park grounds up past Dawson Street for some fireworks and bonfire night :) Basically, the Brits commemorate stopping the Catholic terrorist Guy Fawkes from blowing up Parliament way back when by lighting a huge, wicker statue of him, that looks nothing like him, on fire, and lighting off fireworks and sitting around the biggest bon fire I've ever seen, eating chips and drinking beer. This was only magnified in excellence by having one of my best friends there.
At the end of the weekend, when I watched the back of Annie make her way down High Street to the train station, I think I knew the answer to Fez's question.
And that made me feel better.
I have my first game tomorrow and I
am so excited!
I'm pretty sure everyone is sick of talking to me, because it's all I can seem to talk about.
I bought everything I need today (and may or may not shamelessly try it all on before I go to bed tonight) and AM READY.
I am part of the OUWRFC, or the Oxford University Women's Rugby Club. Pretty fantastic. Here's the website: http://www.ouwrfc.co.uk/
our logo
Anyway, we practice Monday and Thursday night with two rugby-brute-esque male coaches who enjoy playing good cop/bad cop. We play come anything; rain or shine, blood or guts, ice or fire. Then, we typically have fitness Saturday mornings, and our games are Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings (#winning).
Our practices consist of Al (the big, bad cop) pretending we're not that funny and swearing at us to pay attention and muttering that no matter what he has to say to us he promises he's not being perverse ("spread your legs, girls!" "You, play hooker." "WIDER!" "HARDER!").
Once Al has sufficiently exerted his manliness on all of us giggling girls and we've warmed up, we typically do agility and dynamic drills. Al's new favourite is the "FOW SIDED SQUAHRE!" Really, Al... does a square have four sides? One of the Freshers remarked that the name was a tautology and then we did some more press ups, if we could, because we were laughing so much.
I almost DIED the first time I was introduced to said Fow Sided Squahre. We line up in groups of four all facing the inside of this box with cones on the corners. Two parallel sides have bags to hit. The first side are holding the bags up, and on the second side, the bags are stand-alone sand bags. We will come back to these...
At the sound of the whistle, a non-bag side picks up the ball and does short "popping" passes to one another until the center of the square is reached. The ball is set down, and we line up ("Ready? Ready? Ready? UP!") and, as a line, because everything done in rugby is done in a line, smack into the girls holding bags. You push them back five meters (right, as they're pushing you back, as well), and then return to line up over the ball waiting for you in the center of the square again and--"Ready? Ready? Ready? UP!"--charge to the six foot tall bags of sand and tackle those until you push them over (yes, your legs do fly up in the air behind you when you hit something with such velocity). Then, you get up, return to the ball in the middle, making pops, and then ram into the team on the opposite side of the square that you started from, forming a "ruck." Once they win the ball, it's their turn.
Being the yellow dude at the bottom sucks. Al promises you never get stepped on. Al lies.
We do a few more agility, handling and fitness drills, and by the halfway mark of practice, my hamstrings are shit. Absolutely worthless. I try to run and they just give out. I suppose this has a lot to do with my not being active for over a year (thinking I was far too busy with school, HAH! Silly COW work), but you know what I did have on lock down? All the press ups! Doing push ups every night before bed, no matter who made fun of me, totally helped out. I'd say less than a third of the girls on the team could actually do them!
Then, after half mark, the girls who weren't playing in the weekend went and did passing and fitness on the turf, and the ones who were playing worked on the scrum machine.
Now, I'm not sure why the term "machine" is used to describe this torture device, as it is a slab on concrete, rolled into a wheel with blue pads sticking out of it, and a latch which, when released, the blue pads launch out and attack you. So, 'nuff said.
Since, apparently, I fit the need for a forward (this is ironic because, no way in hell do I meet forward standards, since forwards are the first line of defense... a.k.a. MASSIVE), naturally, I had to oppose this beastly "machine." I play position 8:
that's me ^
Basically, 1, 2 and 3 bind, which is a really interesting process, because 1 and 3 actually are holding on so tightly to 2's pants that she can't breath, and she's basically lifted off the ground by her trousers. She shouts: "BIND!...CROUCH!...TOUCH!...ENGAGE!" and the three of them ram into the blue pads. Then, 4 and 5 come up behind them, and, this is where the saying "Cheek to cheek" comes from, and they nuzzle into 1, 2 and 3's backside and get cozy. Then 6 and 7 get on either side and provide support for the scrum. Then, I engage, cheek to cheek, with 4 and 5, girls I've come to know quite well, Mariam and Iovannah.
The ball is in the middle of the two teams 1, 2 and 3 players, and 2's job is to kick it behind her with her foot, toward 4, 5, 6 and 7, and my job is to stop/control it until another offensive player on our team can come and grab it and take off.
Also, it was raining all practice. Pouring.
But, basically, rugby is awesome. All the girls are so sweet and even our touch team Teddy Hall captain plays, and she picks me up from Dawson and we walk to practice together :) The team is entirely supportive of my never having played before, and do their best to yell instructions to me, and do the right amount of pushing to get me to warm up to the sport. So, thanks Blues, you're quite wonderful.
After practice, I went and bought some "stash" which is basically team gear. I got a pair of windbreaker pants (I mean, trousers), rugby shorts (which are strong enough to lift you into the air, NO give/stretch in these puppies), and a shirt. In the states, you usually buy your gear in the middle or towards the end of the season, after you're more part of the team and have proved yourself capable. When I asked the girls if I was supposed to buy gear, they were like "Oh my GOD, Rachel! OF COURSE! Don't you want Blues gear?! Show everyone you're a part of the team?!"
So, now I am a part of the team. And it's an amazing feeling. I haven't been part of a team like this before ever. I played ice hockey in high school, but there was no where near as much unity as there is in a team like this.
Rugby is played in a line. No one is in front of you, no one is behind you. You move as a cohesive unit. All drills, agility exercises, fitness tasks and contact drills are done as a whole. The team is a team. It is not a group of individuals.
My first game is Sunday, and I need to buy metal cleats (I mean, boots!), a scrum hat, tall navy blue socks, and some spandex shorts. I'm going to freeeeeezzee!
Last night was amazing, again.
Danny and I had a travel buddy reunion and went and saw The Portrait of Dorian Grey at the Oxford Playhouse for ten pounds. It was amazing. The portrait was an actual actor and whenever Dorian did something vain or killed or indulged, the portrait would come alive and crawl through the frame and be heinous with the main character. It gave me chills and it was really well done.
me and dan-dan in our front row seats!
Then, I got to show Danny and Sabrina what Teddy Hall was really like, and this was my favourite part of the night. We started at The Buttery with Fez, and then moved to the Half Moon, which is a pub right across from Dawson, so it's excellent because I can jet home whenever I like. Sabrina, Danny and Fez were getting along amazingly and we talked about physics (naturally) and astrology (finally, something Fez didn't know about!). Then, Matt and Jay and their mate Tom showed up, and they were rowdy and being quite rude (or, I guess, "humorous" in the British sense of comedy, still trying to see how brutally making for of one another qualifies as "getting along with your mates", haha), but hilarious none the less.
A few inappropriate text messages, swapping of drinks and Van Halen songs later, we discovered the Sailor Jerrys. That's right. Sailor. In the UK.
And, let me tell you, Sailor has never tasted better. :)
Today, I woke up super early (8:30) to run over to the JCR to watch New Zealand win the rugby wold cup! It was awesome, but I was surprised at the amount of French fans at Teddy Hall.
Then, most of the day was spent "relaxing," shoot, I mean reading in the library, and it ended with a nice dose of rugby.
I am in love with playing rugby.
And Jessie, the team captain, might be the sweetest thing on earth, so I totally feel comfortable being the noob and what not, throwing the ball like an idiot into the ground, and catching it and going "Now what?!" But they're all really patient with me, and even the men's captains that help us run our training sessions are so sweet and helpful. I really love the feel of Teddy Hall, it's all about one another. This is Oxford, and yet, I am able to, never having played before, be considered part of a rugby team. Wow.
I am so lucky to be here.
all souls, again, beautiful, on the way to the play house
Teddy Hall's library (aka, my house) and the graveyard in front of it from the 1100s
I'm really sorry I have not been updating quite as frequently as I was when I was backpacking, but there is just quite a bit to do here.
Here, my weeks kind of look like this: M T W Th F S Sun
weekend tutorial tutorial/weekend weekend weekend weekend weekend
Now, however, that you've all moaned and groaned and cursed my name for jealousy, let me redefine a weekend here, at Teddy Hall.
Weekend
9 am, rugby
10, shower
10:30, brunch at Teddy Hall
11 to 11pm, LIBRARY
11:30, party.
Yes, at 9 am, there is rugby. I joined the uni team, which means I play touch rugby (which is quite like flag football back in the States) for Teddy Hall, and then I play (real, contact) rugby for the University of Oxford. I'm only on the seconds team, called the Panthers, but they say if I play every game and come to all the practices, I'll probably be ready for a real Uni game by the time the year is over! Hooray for broken bones!
Here are some of the "I am definitely in the right place" moments I've been having: 1. At the Buttery Tuesday night, calming Talie down about her future tutorial with Dr. King. We sit down, I buy her a pint, and we start discussing Utilitarianism. Fez, who was playing darts sits down, and pretty soon we're in a full out debate concerning Utilitarians, Utilitarianism, J. S. Mill, Jim the Botanist, and Divine Command Theory. We also invented our own term concerning morality, called "Circumstantial Absolutist," which, if you know anything about ethics is, rather hysterial. 2. At breakfast one morning, Fez asked me what I studied, and I told him "Philosophy" and he goes "Oh, God, you're rather close minded then, aren't you? Here's physics brain teaser:" and from now on, we eat breakfast or drink a pint and discuss physics. The science is quite growing on me! 3. In my last tutorial with Dr. King, he said that "this [my paper], definitely wasn't a bad thing, we're headed in the right direction." And, now, to the American student, this might sound like bad news. "Oh no, poor Rachel, she's probably crying all night." HECK NO. THIS IS PRAISE. This does not happen often, at Teddy Hall, nor from Dr. King. 4. Playing rugby and actually passing, and frantically running, and cutting steps short, and the sound of hands clapping around the ball, and hitting the mats, and already feeling the sense of a "team". 5. Going to the Buttery for study breaks, and needing a pint to understand your new "mates". 6. Cooking dinner and staying in with the Americans :)
That's right, I think I've finally had a night that tops them all so far.
Last night was our first formal at Teddy Hall. It was good fun, nice, small, quiet and intimate. We had to wear our robes, so it was especially Harry Potter-esque. We sipped wine and got made fun of (per usual) for having nasal-y accents, but the food was impeccable, and then, The Buttery.
The Buttery was BUMPING. So much fun. Talie, Isabel, Lizzie and I met up with some freshers and some real, living, breathing, actual Teddy Hall third years. Finally the guys our age.
We played pennies, let Fez give us physics brain teasers, talked about God, rugby, learned how to tie bow-ties and discussed penny-farthing (yes, someone here actually has one).
Then, when we were all rowdy and having a good time, The Buttery began to close and we were forced outside, where we stumbled across Mike, who was doing football initiation. He was in nothing but an apron, and in his pocket he had a banana, lube, and a pregnancy test. Lord only knows.
Mike was dragged off to the graveyard, and we made our way across the Magdalen bridge to a pub really close to Dawson. There, we further discussed penny-farthing, Dr King, PPE, beer with tequila in it, more rugby, how to properly throw a high heel like a rugby ball, and lithpth, I mean, lisps.
All in all, it was a great night, and I think I can speak for all of us americans, when I say it was our first, real Oxfordian night.
me and Lizzie before Formal Hall (photocred: Lizzie)
me, Isabel, Lizzie, Talie and Alice. And oh, that's Tom, in the back there. Can you see him? (photocred: Lizzie)
Fez, the physicist and Isabel, the... not? :P (photocred: Lizzie)
Talie, Isabel, Football-Initiation-Mike, Lizzie, Nick and me out front of the graveyard :) (photocred: Lizzie)
My Reminder List. This list is to help me remember things I need to do for myself. Things I know will make me a better person, a happier person, and more holistic one. 1. Exercise. I joined the Teddy Hall rugby and football teams, and, while it is ok for me to drop one if my studies get too toilsome, I do want to remain active. 2. Read every day. Not only the books I "have" to read for my tutorials, but other stuff too. Like the news, old journal entries and poems I forgot I loved. 3. Have patience. Our crew is amazing but big, and we all love each other. 4. Keep moving on, no looking back; live for the moment. This is the experience of a lifetime, and I will not let anything from home, from the past, from the future, from the internet, from myself interfere with that. 5. Notice the beauty in everything. The buildings, the lectures, the people, the different accents from around the world, the quietness, the tea shops, the food... 6. The food: don't eat as much! I cannot continue to eat a full baguette every day. Don't get me wrong, discovering them was the best (* Please refer to my "Baguette of the Week" List, below), however, I do need to take heed in how often I reward myself with one. And also scones. Oh, and also chocolate croissants. As well as cider. Eek! Food here is awesome, I don't know who the heck told me otherwise! 7. Keep mingling with the local students! No matter how awkward I feel, or stupid about my american accent, or self-concsious I am of "talking with REAL Oxford students." Tom, Jay, Chris, Sam and Fez can really like me, it wouldn't be ludicrous like I sometimes let myself think it would be. I have to remember that. Friends can be friends, I need not be so intimidated. 8. Find more beautiful music to listen to. In concert halls, and through my headphones.
Baguette of the Week List. Yes, you read right. I am obsessed with baguettes. I know they're just samichs on thick, toasty, wonderfully grained rolls, but, still, they're awesome. Week 1(Manchester, Newcastle): The meat pie/sausage roll. Week 2 (Edinburgh, Belfast): Ham'n brie. Week 3 (Belfast, Dublin): Ham, Salami, Pepperoni, green peppers, lettuce, tomato and American. Week 4(London, Oxford): Italian salami, onions, brie, lettuce, peppers.
And, officially, The To-Do List: 1. Get some clothes at Primark. 2. Finish Crime and Punishment (Dr Baine) 3. Register at the Slovik Languages, Modern Languages, Russian and English libraries. 4. Buy cleats (Oh, I mean, "boots"). 5. Get measured for my robes for Formal! 6. Find a "anything that's dead" costume for the Bop. 7. Finish Descartes' Meditations and start thinking about the man upstairs (Dr King)
After dancing all night with all of these wonderful people I've met, I woke early, exercised, got some essentials at Sainsbury's (Cheerios, no doubt), ate a simple breakfast of yogurt and cereal and just stayed in my room, in my spandex and Teddy Hall fleece, and read.
Reading Descartes, you really do need to meditate and think about yourself, who you are, how you are, what makes you who and how you are, and it has been a really amazing experience for me. I miss studying, and I miss what the Dean of Teddy Hall was saying about being engaged, and really struggling, fighting and interacting with my work.
To really make you feel the beauty of my day, I'm going to steal one of Milly's photos of Oxford and hope you just sigh with the loveliness of it :)
photocred: Milly Hughes.
I think I'm going to read and write some more, grab dinner at college with some girls, and then maybe settle down at the Oxford Rendezvous (a local coffee shop) for a quiet night with Descartes.
I have my books, my notebooks, my word documents, my preview files, my dates for lectures and tutorials, my assignment, my Bodelian card, my to-do list, my Teddy Hall fleece, my tea and scones, my friends, my visa, and the first Teddy Hall dance (or "bop," if you will) is tonight.
Does it get much better?
Oh, I also have this:
So no, actually, I don't think it gets much better.
Here's a bit about where I am physically and mentally.
St Edmund Hall is one of the oldest colleges at Oxford. They think it was formed sometime around 1152 (which makes it older than the oldest known pub in Ireland, The Brazen Head). About fifty years or so later, the first written documents of proof of teaching were found.
St Edmund Hall is also known as Teddy Hall. It is also one of the smallest colleges, having around 400 students both under- and post-graduates. Our colours are like Gryffindor's, gold and maroon, yet our mascot has a bird akin to a raven on it.
However, from what I've understood through our inductions and the formal dinner last night, Teddy Hall is for the best of the best, and it sounds more like Ravenclaw to me, beg my Harry Potter.
I have noticed that Teddy Hall's inductions have mainly concerned two things (apart, of course from safety and security, as well), and those are namely, to maintain being the best academically and in as many other facets of our lives cultivated through the college, and also to be mentally sound. The Dean's welcome today echoed these two concepts for forty five minutes, and, just now, I have realized, as I am sitting down to begin my first essay, that Teddy Hall is a place where students are pushed. Here, the pressure to be the best of the best exists, and it has a very tangible presence. Like Dr King (my Philosophy tutor) said last night, "I'm only kind the first session, then I expect nothing but your best, of course, but, not the best in general, as that is simply unobtainable in a single term." Chortle, chortle, chortle.
Here, I, and we, will be challenged unlike anything we have ever experienced before. No amount of parental pressure, peer pressure, academic pressure, personal pressure has ever amounted to the feeling of pressure I feel now. This is a physical pressure, that you can feel in your knees and stomach that comes via the eyes of all of the other students around you. They're the best, are you? This is the kind of mental pressure that evokes physical pressure and incites anxiety, euphoria and immense discomfort. This is a testing kind of pressure.
But yes, I think this is the kind of pressure that fuels great minds. The kind of pressure that motivates from within and burns with a desire to catch you aflame and transform you.
As I sit in my room on Dawson Street, even though I've been here three days, the fact that I am here, at Oxford, still manages to throw me into awe.
The title of the post has a lot of significance. Firstly, Dark Blue can refer to the Oxford Blue, our school colour. Secondly, orientation (known as Freshers Week, here) is so intimidating. We had a lecture yesterday and this is what was declared:
"Oxford is only for the best."
... excluding myself. I hope I have the intellect to keep up with these people... Thirdly, someone reminded me that I love Jack's Mannequin :)
Anyway. I belong to St Edmund Hall within the University of Oxford. St Edmund is also amicably known as Teddy's or Teddy Hall. Everyone here is friendly and has everyone's interest in mind, and even our Freshers t-shirts manifest this.
Teddy Hall itself is off of Queen's Street, close to the City Centre.
Must go to formal dinner, I will update more later!
I met my tutor (professor) for drinks tonight and he unloaded an eight pager essay on me concerning Descartes' First Centainty.
OMG.
More later, out to the Buttery (Teddy Hall's pub) for Freshers' Night!
So, earlier tonight, I was invited to drinks with the PPE faculty (which, in the States, would be known as the Philosophy, Politics and Economics department), upon which I sipped champagne with my philosophy tutor Peter King. Our introductory comments went a little something like this:
"Nice to finally meet you, Rachel. Have you checked your pigeon hole?" (our mail boxes are called that here) "Oh, yes, I have, about an hour ago" "Well, check again, I've just put a 2,000 word assignment in there about a half hour ago. Have you read Descartes before?" "Oh... no, I haven't yet, sir." "Better get going, then!"
Oh, wow. I'm screwed. It's the "0th week" here (orientation week), and I'm already stressed. Eeek!
Anyway, after drinks, we made our way down to the dinning hall for a formal dinner and it was fantastic. The food was AMAZING! And, we get a class of nice wine with every course. All the tutors were wearing their Harry Potter-esque robes, and again, as we took the Teddy Oath with the principle, we were reminded that we were the "best." Gosh, I'm sure to be Teddy's biggest mistake!
I know there is a lot more I want to update about, but right now I'm quite overwhelmed with the TEN books I ought read by next Wednesday and the essay I have to write. Also, I just came back from The Cellar, which is a club Teddy Hall students frequent quite a lot. Green Pants Harry, Tom and Pete were there, the blokes we met the first night in their third year of the master programs. Sweet, sweet, brits :)
Anyway, I'm off to bed for more Freshers' activities tomorrow! I'll leave you with some beautiful photos of All Souls College (a philosophy and theology masters college which I will mostdefinitely apply to post-Wooster), and the Radcliffe camera, where Zach and Lizzie and I had lunch the other day.
It is so lovely here. I don't think I'd ever like to go back.
I saw a play at The Globe.
I am too tired to write about it now, and I have to get up super early tomorrow to head to Oxford, but I will post soon with pictures. It was so amazing.
The night before, Annie Hunter walked out of the elevator in the Thistle Garden Hotel and she met the real Rachel. For much of the year before, I had been someone else, even unrecognizable to myself, until just a few days ago.
We spent some quality time at a nice English pub called "The Swan," similar too The Swan that Patrick Whitmore takes me to in Manchester. There, we hung out with this boy she went to high school with named Brian, who is also on the road to re-discovering who he really is. We connected immensely. The three of us drank and were merry and could not believe this was all really happening.
Anyway, more about yesterday (as it was, quite beautiful!). Annie and I woke up at five am the next morning. For her, the culprit was jet lag, for me, the culprit was excitement, astonishment, and a sense of revelry. One of my best friends was back, I was back, we were in London, and I was about to witness her embarkation on the first leg of her adventure.
At five, we caught up, laying in the dark and laughing. By seven, our stomachs were raging and we went to the complimentary breakfast given to us by the hotel. HELLO chocolate croissants! Then, as waves of jet lag hit her again, a walk to Hyde Park was in order for me.
It was so refreshing, being with my friend, making new ones, and having total confidence in the person I was introducing them to, myself. How could I have forgotten so easily who I had become over the course of my life? Over Africa, China, over the schools I went to, the people I met? Ah, we can be so silly sometimes.
So. Danny and I kind of made it into London for our 3 day orientation pre Freshers Week at Oxford. Except, we lost each other on the Tube.
When this is what the Tube looks like to you, how the heck are you supposed to get anywhere?!
Anyway, we're in the hotel and it seems as if I'm rooming with a boy? Hm... Not sure how to feel about that, as I haven't been allowed to parade around in my undies for quite some time, traveling with Danny as my traveling partner... However, to celebrate our travels, he is currently blasting Lion King: the Dubstep Version and dancing. But, as glorious as that is, I have t-minus one hour until the first meeting and I need to shower, PRONTO.
Today was a little harder than most, as it seems I've acquired a bit of a cold. But, it really didn't matter, because, I WAS IN DUBLIN and it was a gorgeous day out.
We headed toward the Dublin Castle and did touristy things there and laid in the gardens. It was so nice to soak up the sun.
After that we went to the Guinness Factory. That's right, the Guinness Factory. It was pretty cool. With student discounts, it was 10 euro for the seven story tour, and then at the top, you got a pint and an awesome view of all of Dublin!
The view from the top, where we drank our pints :)
Dublin was lovely, I don't know what my dentist and Danny's aunt were thinking when they said to not bother stopping here. I'm glad we did, it was intellectually stimulating and beautiful.
Tomorrow, however, is another day of traveling! We'll take the Stena Express to Liverpool, and then the Liverpool train to Manchester, spend the night with Pat and Milo, and then head to London Thursday morning for Orientation! FINALLY!!!!! :)
Danny and I sort of had this moment of reconnection last night in Dublin.
Last night, before we went out, I was perusing through our Oxford emails and I decided to take a look back on my blog I kept throughout high school and my first year of college. Doing so, I came to the sad realization that I am no where near as outwardly thoughtful or poetic as I used to be. I have become so out of touch with myself as a writer, that I hardly remembered that I was one.
I remember myself falling out of the excitement and habit in Freshman year, but I was so far gone by Sophomore year that I didn't even know how to write anymore. I became overly critical and forgot that writing was art. This is what Danny reminded me of, when I went running back to our hostel room to find him journaling. I was really upset and he found it funny how upset I was. I asked him why and he was like "obviously your upsettedness means you still have the passion for it," and we discussed the importance of poetry, journaling and storytelling.
Fortunately, I believe that I can trace the reasons back to why I had abandoned writing. One, an obsession with school; two, a discovery of philosophy; three, the neglect of my own time, given to someone else; and four, my fear of failure.
Starting for me, personally, in Belfast (as I was reminded of how out of touch I was), and for the both of us in Dublin, this city has been the most enriching to us as students of the craft of writing and has reminded me how important it is to me, as a person, to continue to do so. We visited the Oscar Wilde memorial/statue, and frequented James Joyce's cites around the city (birth place, place of residence, memorial), all of which were the catalysts for writing inspired chatter, and a little bit of buffoonery :)
By far my favourite Oscar Wilde quote
On a more traveling note, after an amazing dinner, Danny and I headed to "The Brazen Head," which is most definitely the oldest pub in Ireland, and perhaps one of the oldest in the world! On the way, we found St. Patrick's Cathedral! It was beautiful at night lit up against the black sky.
Once at the pub, we each had a pint (he of Guinness, and me of cider), and enjoyed the trio of Irish musicians (consisting of an acoustic, a banjo and an accordion).
Also, back on our literary kick, this pamphlet explained the history of the Brazen Head. If you can't read it, it says: The Brazen Head was frequented by many of Dublin's literary community most notably James Joyce and Brendan Beahan. Furthermore The Brazen Head is reffered to in the "Eumaeus"chapter of Joyce's acclaimed Ulysses... "you got a decent enough do in The Brazen Head for a bob."
Once we returned to the hostel, Danny got antsy and went back out to the pubs, and I stayed in and met some really interesting people. Two were from Israel (one, born in Russia, the other, Romania) who were incredibly critical on the American PhD system, but were nicer to me when they asked me where I was going to study at abroad. We then talked of Russian and Dostoyevsky and fatalism and existentialism. It was pretty neat, you do meet the most fascinating people on the road.
PS, someone behind me is working on French homework. I'm extremely jealous; I've been out of school so long my brain feels like mush!
This is basically why I haven't been updating. Belfast isn't like the other cities we've visited. It's a little more dangerous because of the tensions between Northern Ireland and Ireland, but it is on the rise to a more peaceful way of life.
I have made some wonderful friends here. Zoe (who is a COW graduate) and her housemate, Christina, are quite possibly the sweetest people on the face of the Earth. They're living in Belfast for the year to work with Presbyterian churches to promote religion as a way of peace, as opposed to a means of judging differences.
Last night was by far my best night abroad (Yes, it beat the noodle bar night in Edinburgh, but only because I found ANOTHER noodle bar in Belfast we're going to eat at tonight :P). Danny and I met Patrick, another US graduate working with Zoe and Christina, at The Odyssey, an arena full of bars, pubs and dance clubs. We waited for Christina to get out of work at a sports bar that-get this-was dedicated to icehockey. How cool is that? I deduced from the jerseys that it was most likely dedicated the Belfast team, but most jerseys were Canadian farm teams. It was really neat.
When Christina arrived, we made our way to a dance club, checked our coats, and the rest is history. So. Much. Fun.
I hardly want to head to Dublin tomorrow. I like having a group of friends rather than traveling with just one. The more the merrier! But, alas, life goes on and so must the travels. Tonight, we're heading into City Centre for some noodles and drinks. There is talk of the group of them heading to Oxford at some point!
Today I went hiking and realized that nothing can touch me, because I am totally traveling across the UK (and soon after, Europe) alone. All my decisions, all my thoughts, all my responses, all me.
Then, Danny and I philosophized with this old man we met at the top of the mountain, and it turns out Hume had written a bunch of his notes on the path we were walking on during his time. Phenomenal.
It's really neat being in Scotland because all of the sudden, our marching band uniforms make so much sense. As soon as we got off the coach in Edinburgh, I found a Macleod plaid key chain that had "Hold Fast" written on it with a goat and recognized it from the broaches we have to wear in band that Ben and I were analyzing last year.
When we got in town, we stopped at a small Scottish pub for a little break. It turns out that the Scots have this really awesome beer that's brewed in rum bottles called Innus & Gunn and it's a really sweet, potent beer. I recommend it highly.
Then we stopped at Danny's friend Jen's flat where she's staying while she studies at the University of Edinburgh. We went out to eat with a lot of her friends from the school (who, oddly enough, were all from the East Coast, also studying abroad) and began the night. We went out with a lot of girls and a couple of Scottish guys. First we went to an on campus pub called Rush and listened to really drunk Scots butcher country songs, and then we went to the Hive to dance.
Here, dancing is so much nicer than it is in the states. The music is loud and the lights are bright, but no one grinds and it's awesome. You all dance together and every once in a while you get twirled around. So much more classier. Plus, you walk home in between castles and on cobblestone streets. Take that, Amurica.
Today, we did a lot of touristy things, but they were really great. We went to the Museum of Scotland (which was free!) and it was amazing. So enlightening about the Scottish history and culture. It made me think of Kate, and I can totally see why she wants to live in a museum, now.
(That's totally Mary, Queen of Scot's tomb)
Then, on our way to Edinburgh Castle, we made a brilliant discovery: The Elephant Cafe (a.k.a. THE CAFE WHERE J. K. ROWLING WROTE HARRY POTTER!) And, I totally had to have a tea there, silently hoping that I might be struck with the gift of storytelling :)
After that memorable moment, we made our way up to Edinburgh Castle, which made for spectacular views of the whole city.
B-E-A-U-tiful!
We finished off the day with eating in (mac & cheese) and setting up our cheap, pre-paid phones. They're adorable. Everything over here is like ten years behind. If you're in the UK, WE CAN TEXT because I miss you so much, who ever you are, haha. And if you're not in the UK, I still miss you like heck, and we can text for 25p a text (so, we can't really, but if you can't stand how much you miss me, I'll pay the small price :)) My number is: 07530026241
Anyways, off to the showers! I really miss everyone back at home, and Peanut :( I'm excited for school to start so I have even less time to let my mind wonder, and to get my head back in the game of academia!
