I tried to finish my blogging before I left the UK, but by the time I knew it, I had already landed at the McAllen airport. It took my about a week to get my body clock back to U.S. Central time mode, and because Ian has been reminding me that I need to finish this, I dedicate this last blog about my summer in the UK to him.
CITY CRUISES
As my time was running out in London, I wanted to do something special in the city. The National Railways runs a two for one special on several city attractions, and I was interested in either visiting the London Dungeons (although I’m a big wimp and scare easily), or taking a boat ride on the Thames River. The reviews said the queues for London Dungeons were quite long, and so we choose the “City Cruise” promotion. I was a bit incredulous about the two for one offer because-- why would they give us a free ticket just for getting there by train? We had to take the train, regardless. Also, I wasn’t sure which pier we would leave from which meant we had to explore the bank side. Is it just me, or do most people have trouble remembering what order the bridges are in London? We walked a LONG way and encountered HUNDREDS of joggers along the way (Ian said they’re paid to jog there to promote a healthy living atmosphere :p.) We finally got to Westminster Millennium Pier and paid about 5 quid for each ticket (woohoo!) The queuing was a bit disorganized, but we soon forgot our discomfort when we saw what we believed to be our boat. It had two levels, and I planned to go on the top deck. I imagined photos of me with my hair blowing in the wind. Sadly, that boat was going to Greenwich, and we were going to the London Tower. After much waiting, our wee boat got there (only one deck - booooo.) It took forever to officially start our cruise because the captain of the boat decided to give one of the boat workers a lift across the river (it probably would have been quicker for that worker to walk across the bridge, but oh, well.) I’d seen most of the places the guide pointed out during the cruise, but seeing them while on the river made it more exciting! I also found that “The Anchor”, the restaurant we had dinner the night we saw “A Midsummer’s Night Dream” at the Globe, was the place the actors at the original Globe would zip to to get a drink in between performances. All in all, the City Cruise was a lovely experience. We followed it with a walk in London and a sandwich lunch at a small garden we found hidden near the bank side.
LAZY BONES
As a child, I used to love going with my dad to the “Pulga” (flea market) on south 23rd street in McAllen. My mom didn't like me to tag along because after I went to the pulga, I would get sick. It wasn’t until I was in my 20s that a doctor explained that my flu-like symptoms were actually allergies. I still like flea markets even though they often make me feel ill; and so, when Ian mentioned in passing he needed to get rid of some stuff, a plan was devised with the help of his dad to go to a “boot sale.” A boot sale is the British equivalent of a flea market (boot as in the trunk of a car.) Ian’s dad told us Sonia, Ian’s cousin, had made over 100 pounds at the Lazy Bones Boot Sale. Ian wasn’t too concerned about making too much of a profit. He just wanted to sell enough to pay for the entrance fee, and mostly he wanted to get rid of some things that were taking up storage room.
While Ian was pushing vinyl records and computer bits, I explored the goodies others were selling. I bought a dress and three pairs of earrings for 5quid. Yay!
Ian made enough to pay the entrance fee and made a bit of a profit on top of that. Hooray!
Overall it was a smashing success. :D
ROYAL RICHMOND
When planning to go on an excursion with London Walks, I was always nervous I wouldn’t find the guide when I got to the designated train station, but thankfully the guides always showed up on time, and always appeared to be very capable of guiding a large group while on trains, coaches (buses), and through busy streets during the walking part of the excursion. This time, however, we had a ditzy guide. She didn’t want to take our money and she had a hard time explaining that instead of train tickets, we needed 2 zone travel cards for this particular excursion. Well, we missed our train, and I was starting to panic. When we finally got on the train, I sat next to two posh looking old ladies. Shortly after the train left I noticed a bad case of B.O. I smelled myself a la “super star”, and confirmed it wasn't me and that I smelled lovely (haha). I looked around and deduced the smell was coming from the man in a three piece suit sitting behind me. I kept glaring at him hoping my laser eyes could communicate he needed to not shift around so much so as not to spread the smell. I later realized, it was actually one of the posh old ladies. Who woulda thunk?
Once the actual tour started, I was able to walk away from the smell, and have a very nice time.
The City of Richmond started as a fishing village and then in the 1300s became the home of the Royal Palace during the reign of Richard II and Anna of Bohemia. Because their power was always precarious, the monarchy wandered about with an entourage of 5,000 to 10,000 people proving their might. They built a series of castles, manor houses, etc around England.
Anna of Bohemia died in Richmond, upsetting the King enough to want to shut down the palace there. It was Henry VII that rebuilt the palace in Richmond.
Queen Elizabeth I did this as well, and the guide explained she would gauge how long one place could sustain her and her entourage (the lords of the area would have to foot the bill for lodging, food, and entertainment for all the court.)
Other claims of fame for Richmond include:
• Charles Dickens’ “Great Expectations” mentions a pub in Richmond.
• Samuel Peeps came looking for treasure in Richmond.
• Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon’s son was born in Richmond
• Elizabeth I died in a room above the gatehouse. Her ring of state was never found and it was rumored she threw it out of the window before dying.
Our tour of Richmond ended with our boarding a boat which would take us to Hampton Court.
HAMPTON COURT
Before I begin sharing about Hampton Court, I want to make a plug for Netflix. I often joke I'm a poor Mexican girl. For several years of my childhood, we didn’t own a television set, and I’ve lived without cable for most of my life. Well, a few months ago, I subscribed to Netflix for under $10 a month which allows me to watch movies and TV shows on my laptop. I’d heard about Showtime’s The Tudors (story about the reign of Henry VIII and his six wives) on Gossip Girl I think, so I decided to watch. It’s basically a historical soap opera that’s quite addicting. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but I’ve learned so much from that show! On several of the tours I took this summer, I knew what the guide was talking about because of the show The Tudors. Hampton Court was one of Henry VIII’s stomping grounds, so I was in heaven walking through the palace and gardens.
Hampton Court was initially built by Cardinal Wolsey as a country house. He leased the land it was built on for 50 pounds a year! Cardinal Wolsey was the son of a butcher who rose within the ranks of the Catholic Church and became the Archbishop of Canterbury, the highest ranked church official in England. It was clear to me that Cardinal Wolsey valued aesthetics because he built the palace with red brick, made the chimneys fashionable (as in not only for utilitarian reasons), and even had carpets on the floor (carpets and tapestries used to be hung on walls and never stepped on.) Both because of his position and rumors of the grand house, Cardinal Wolsey began receiving gifts for his new home from people in power from all over England.
Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon often visited the cardinal at Hampton Court.
Things started going wrong for the cardinal when Henry VIII decided he wanted to divorce Katherine of Aragon, which became known as “The King’s Great Matter.”
Emperor Charles V of Spain was Katherine’s nephew, and he controlled the pope at that time. Because he was unable to manipulate the pope into giving Henry VIII his divorce, the cardinal began losing favor with the king. When Henry VIII marveled at the grandness of Hampton Court, Cardinal Wolsey felt obliged to gift the “country house” to the king.
Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn also stayed there frequently. They would arrive by boat on the Thames (as I did!)
Also, Jane Seymour gave birth to Henry VIII’s son at Hampton Court. Later, Henry VIII would claim his only true wife was Jane Seymour because she was the only wife that gave him a son that survived child birth.
William of Holland and Mary also lived in Hampton Court. They commissioned Christopher Wren to renovate Hampton Court. When Mary died of small pox in 1694, the project was left half finished, so Hampton Court’s architecture is half Tudor and half Wren.
It is tradition for servants of the royals to be sent to retire at Hampton Court fulfilling their motto of living “by the grace and favor of the monarch.” This has given Hampton Court the nickname “The Royal Squat.”
In the mid 1800s, Hampton Court was open to the public, and today you can even rent an apartment there during a holiday stay.
Other claims to fame for Hampton Court:
• The Hampton Court Conference was a meeting to talk about translating the Bible to English which became the King James Version. (This was an extension of the reform and wanting to move away from masses in Latin.)
• Edward VI started Grammar schools while at Hampton Court. (After Henry VIII’s reform, education all but disappeared as the monasteries carried the burden of education in England.)
• Queen Mary and King Philip of Spain also lived at Hampton Court.
• The concept of the King’s cabinet was established at Hampton Court. The area where the king slept was called the cabinet and his most trusted advisors would put him to bed each night.
I was able to explore most of Hampton Court (it’s huge!) including the King’s wine cellar, the kitchens, gardens, and I even made my way through the maze. I thought it was going to be a kiddie maze as they said it was a fun stop for children, but I had a hard time finding my way out! Haha… Hampton Court is a definite must see when visiting the London area.
Paris
I took my first trip abroad the summer of 2008. I’ve received several comments on Facebook about how wonderful it is to be able to take these trips, and I agree! As a poor Mexican girl, I never dreamed I would ever see the places I’ve seen. It’s amazing how perspectives can change in a span of a few years. I want to spend my life teaching, travelling and writing.
I met Ian two years ago on my first Study Abroad trip, and we spent one Saturday walking the streets of London. We got along so great I told him I thought he would make a good traveling buddy. If you’ve ever traveled with someone, then you will agree how important it is to travel with someone who adjusts to situations.
My comment that Saturday proved to be true. Ian visited me while I was in Spain last year, and his trip was such a success that he caught the traveling bug.
Initially, I was supposed to be in Italy for one month, but because of lack of student enrollment, the trip was canceled. In retrospect, I’m so glad I was able to spend two months in England because I’ve learned so much more from this trip than I have the two previous study abroad trips.
Despite this, I still wanted to visit a new country (3rd summer 3rd country and all that.) Having caught the traveling bug, Ian was just as anxious to visit somewhere new. We agreed we would go to Paris for my birthday.
It would only be a short, three day trip, and really you have to enjoy traveling to go through such a rushed trip. We left the Harold Wood train station at about 4:47am and didn’t get to the hotel in Paris until 8pm that evening. We had to take several trains both in London and Paris and of course the flight from London Luton Airport to Paris Charles de Gaulle airport (the actual flight was only about 1hr and 10 min long!)
After we arrived and after much deliberation, we decided we would visit a proper fancy French restaurant. They only served wine and mineral water for beverages. Ian convinced me not to ask for Coca-Cola (lol.) I wanted to take pictures, but ended up deciding I would look too much the tourist. I was so excited I couldn’t even eat, and Ian didn’t think it was proper to eat my food too. I didn’t dare ask for a doggie bag!
After dinner, we walked a bit through the streets of Paris and called it a night.
The next morning we had a breakfast of omelets with fromage ( we had the choice or ham OR cheese), toast, butter and jam, coffee, juice, and hot chocolate. It was delicious.
We made a plan to visit four places: the Louvre, Notre Dame, The Eiffel Tower, and Les Champs Elyees.
At the Louvre, we saw the Mona Lisa (which was a bit underwhelming next to the massive paintings in the same room) and the Venus de Milo. We saw as much as we could in a few hours, but the Louvre is huge, and really, it would take days and days to see it all properly.
On our way from the Louvre to Notre Dame, we survived an attempted scam! As we were taking pictures by the river near the Louvre, a woman pretended to find a man’s gold wedding band. She asked us if it belonged to us, and showed us that it was real gold according to the engraving inside the ring. We said it wasn’t ours, and she said we should keep it for good luck. We insisted several times we couldn’t keep it, but she kept insisting. We said okay and smiled and she walked away only to walk back to us to ask for money to eat. Ian handed her the ring and told her she should keep it. She obviously could benefit more from it. She wouldn’t take the ring and kept asking for money. I gave her two euros and she said it wasn’t enough-- to give her more. I suddenly felt like I was being taken advantage, and I said no. This went on for a bit more and Ian finally took the ring and threw it in a trashcan near us. The lady cussed us out and walked away!
As we crossed the bridge, we saw another woman pulling the same scam “look at the ring I just found” on a man across the street. Out of curiosity, Ian googled the scam, and sure enough, it’s a common scam in Paris. They must get the brass rings by the bagful and guilt tourists into giving them money for them!
Our next stop was Notre Dame, and Ian mentioned he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go inside. We've seen A LOT of cathedrals in the last couple of years, and so he’s lost his motivation saying, “You’ve seen one cathedral, you’ve seen them all.” I do agree with him in part, but I still go in to see them when I get the chance. Notre Dame is impressive to say the least, and when we realized it was free to go in, we decided it would be such a waste not to go inside. We were not disappointed. There’s a reason Notre Dame is so revered. It’s breathtaking. And like all other outings, we got to witness strange human behavior. One man kept asking people (including Ian) to take pictures of him in front of a chapel, and a small boy was feeding the pigeons outside bits of bread which he would then pick up off the dirt and put into his own mouth. Ew.
We had lunch at a restaurant near Notre Dame. Again, it was a delicious meal. I thought it would be a simple, light lunch as we had ordered sandwiches, but they were soooo tasty. The only surprise is that we paid 12 euros for two coca-colas. That’s like $9 a coke! Still, the food was so good, we didn’t mind paying so much for soft drinks.
It was time to make our way to the Eiffel Tower. It was hard to get lost as you can see the tower from most of the city. On our way there we saw several groups of break dancers, and the vendors were very motivated to sell. I suggested we not make eye contact… haha.
We had to wait in line for several hours (there’s a queue to buy tickets, a queue to get to the second floor, a queue to get to the top, a queue to get back down to the 2nd floor, and a queue to get to the ground.) The view from the top is totally worth it.
By this time, we had been on our feet for about 9hrs during the day, and I needed a break. We stopped at a restaurant and I had hot chocolate and crème brulee.
We had one more stop—Les Champs Elyees. Could I make it?
Let me digress a bit. I discovered that Ian and I like to sight see in different ways. I like guided tours and he likes to roam free. In fact, he gets into this positive, adrenaline pumping mode when he’s allowed to sight see without a guide.
After the Eiffel Tower, I was so tired, and Ian was so pumped! I couldn’t disappoint him, and I still wanted to see Les Champs Elyees. We saw so much more on our way there. Ian wanted to keep going. We walked through most of Les Champs Elyees, and I was amazed that the shops were still open at midnight. We walked all the way to the Arc de Triomphe. Our sightseeing finally ended at about 12:30am and we ended up having dinner from a vending machine.
The next morning we had breakfast at the same restaurant from the day before, but Ian ordered ham AND cheese with his egg omelet. I couldn’t believe it. The menu clearly stated ham OR cheese, not both! But, the waiter didn’t even blink. Ian’s confidence empowered me, and so I was brave enough to do the same! Confidence is contagious.
After breakfast, we made our way to the palace of Versailles. I was able to understand the French Revolution so much more after seeing how Louis XIV and Marie Antoinette lived. One word comes to mind— opulence. They were clueless as to how normal people lived (hence the “let them eat cake” remark.) But, I have to admit the French have both the English and the Spanish beat on beautiful palaces.
All in all, our holiday to Paris was an extraordinary experience.
The last day we were in Paris was my birthday. We ended the celebration with pizza, a movie, and birthday cake. WOOT! Perfect Birthday.
DINNER WITH IAN’S FAMILY
The last Sunday before I left the UK, I was invited to Sunday dinner (it’s actually at lunch time) with Ian’s family. His sister Linda is a great cook, and I look forward to these invitations. The conversation is always interesting, and the Sheridan family is absolutely lovely. And, on top of all their kindness (Ian’s mom got me books from several libraries for my thesis, and Ian’s dad prepared two bikes for me to learn how to ride) they had birthday cards and presents for me (and they totally know my taste… I loved my earrings, necklace, and wallet!)
Words cannot express how much I appreciate them all for making me feel so welcome.
LAST WORDS
This summer was absolutely extraordinary. I realize something like this cannot be accomplished alone. I want to thank my parents for being so supportive of my education, the Sheridan family for making me feel welcome in England, London Walks for offering affordable excursions throughout England, the International Women’s Board and the Office of International Programs for scholarships, Esperanza from the OIP for helping me with all the paperwork, and last but not least, Ian whose support encourages me to follow my dreams. I want to take all I learned and inspire my high school students to dream big and work hard towards those dreams. I hope I too can support others who want to follow their dreams.
Myra Infante Sheridan
FESTIBA
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
I should have woken up at 6am...
Disclaimer: This blog includes some personal info-- don't read if you don't want to get to know me better :P
So I had to majorly wash on Wednesday because I had totally run out of clean underwear. I realize that this in itself is something that is not shocking and probably has happened to a lot of people ( I had a friend from college that would just buy new underwear instead of washing haha) But, I'm pretty good about always having clean underwear. I didn't even have clean underwear to go to the launderette to wash my underwear, so I decided to wear this skirt that has spandex shorts attached to it ( I guess they work like a girdle.) I always wear underwear with it, but I figured that the shorts sort of were like long underwear.
I should have woken up at 6am, so that I could be at the launderette by 7am. I didn't get out of bed until 7:42 am. Booooo #1.
Although I didn't have my entire heart set on it, I was inclined to take two London Walks. One to Little Venice at 11am and another on The Beatles at 2pm. What I did have to do, was buy Chuggington trains for my nephew Matthew. I had found out online that Hamley's located inside St. Pancreas train station sold them. It has been my experience that I have to leave the house 2 hrs before I have to be anywhere in London. Most times, I'm there with at least 30 minutes to spare, but there have been times I get lost, or trains aren't running like they're supposed to, etc.
I finished my laundry by about 9:30, so I decided to RUN home drop off my laundry and back to the train station and try to make it to the Little Venice walk. (Note: no time to put proper knickers (underwear) on-- the spandex shorts were doing so well after all.) I imagined Little Venice would be fantastic. I imagined being in a gondola, and having the guide sing a bit (why I thought I could take a walk on a gondola, I don't know.)
So, I exit Warwick train station in London at about 11:05 am, and I see a group of people across the street. It was the London Walks people, and I was downright smug I woke up late, did my laundry, and made the walk on time.
My glee was short lived. Soon after we started the walk, the guide said there was a particularly beautiful garden, but that the owner wouldn't let us stop in front of her house so we had to quickly glance at it as we passed by. I got my camera ready and snapped a pic of the house from the outside. I wanted a picture of the garden as well. I had been on so many tours by now that I had experience on snapping a pic quickly as I walk by whatever I'm taking a picture of. I had the camera ready and just as I turned to look at the garden (just a glimpse out of the corner of my eye) I FELL DOWN. The hateful garden of the beautiful house and garden had just moments before finished watering their lovely roses, and left the pavement (sidewalk) completely wet and muddy.
The fall didn't hurt, and I was too stunned to feel embarrassed, but my entire backside, legs, and feet (wearing flip-flops) were covered in mud.
The ladies in the group came to my rescue and handed me the packs of tissues they had, and one lady even tried to help me get the mud off me.
I spent most of the walk trying to get the mud off of me, and WE NEVER GOT IN A GONDOLA. Little Venice looks nothing like the pictures I've seen of Venice, Italy. It has no gondolas, and that's not even it's real name. The most exciting bits of information the guide gave us were the place Alan Turing (father of computing) was born, and the house Madonna almost bought. Wow. :/
I still had to buy Matthew's toy trains, and I still wanted to make The Beattles walk at 2pm. I had one hour to get to St. Pancreas Station and then to Tottenham Court Station in one hour.
I was feeling a bit sticky from the mud, so I wanted to buy some cleansing wipes. Also, I was afraid the mud had seeped through my skirt and I imagined my behind covered in caked mud.
I got to St. Pancreas, and my first stop was Boots pharmacy. I got the wipes and headed for the bathroom. Well, the good news was that mud had not seeped through. The bad news was that my monthly friend had decided to pay a visit. Now, despite my sharing this with you (didn't one of my professor say I have to write about things that make me feel uncomfortable? The roses and urine thing Pablo Neruda said and all) I am an old-fashioned kind of girl. I can't accommodate my guest without proper underwear, now can I???
Luckily, St. Pancreas has a shop called Senza (a cheap and cheery version of Victoria's Secret.) I bought underwear for 3 quid (remember cheap and cheery) at Senza and went back to Boots for girly things, and back to the bathroom (also, lucky St. Pancreas doesn't charge for the use of toilets-- patron saint of those who have to go? most stations charge 30p to be paid with one 20p coin and one 10p coin-- no variation is accepted!)
By this time I had abandoned the hope of seeing Abbey Road or Abbey Road Studios. My dream of being in a picture with another 3 random London Walkees with arms extended at an awkward angle were abolished.
I grabbed a sandwich at Pret a Manger, and I headed in search of Hamley's, the toy store.
The clerks at Hamley's had no idea what Chuggington trains were, but they suggested I visit the main store in Regent Street. It was two stops away on the Victoria line train. I needed to get off on Oxford Circus station and it was a four minute walk from the station. Oxford Circus was CLOSED. I had to get off on the next station which was Green Park station. Never mind-- I used the opportunity to have my sandwich at Green Park. I sat next to an Indian family, who were conversing in their native language. When I dropped my coca-cola, the girl asked me in a perfect British accent if I was okay. She sounded beautiful in both languages.
Because I had no idea where I was, and how to get to Hamley's on Regent Street, I bought yet another London map. I had to cross through all the posh shops. Gucci, Prada, Rolex and model/designer looking people surrounded me (haha!) The Abercrombie and Finch actually had shirtless, real, live models as you went into the store.
Hamley's was an experience in itself! Six stories high, and fun, games, and performers everywhere. Hamley's is older than the U.S.A.! I got Matthew four trains. :)
I think I walked for five or six hours straight that day.
And… I had my second bike riding lesson when I got back to Harold Wood. I was promoted to a bigger bike. I'll post pics later. Ian says I did better on this lesson. I had pizza for dinner and watched Saun of the Dead. I laughed soooo much. First zombie movie I like. :)
I heart London :)
So I had to majorly wash on Wednesday because I had totally run out of clean underwear. I realize that this in itself is something that is not shocking and probably has happened to a lot of people ( I had a friend from college that would just buy new underwear instead of washing haha) But, I'm pretty good about always having clean underwear. I didn't even have clean underwear to go to the launderette to wash my underwear, so I decided to wear this skirt that has spandex shorts attached to it ( I guess they work like a girdle.) I always wear underwear with it, but I figured that the shorts sort of were like long underwear.
I should have woken up at 6am, so that I could be at the launderette by 7am. I didn't get out of bed until 7:42 am. Booooo #1.
Although I didn't have my entire heart set on it, I was inclined to take two London Walks. One to Little Venice at 11am and another on The Beatles at 2pm. What I did have to do, was buy Chuggington trains for my nephew Matthew. I had found out online that Hamley's located inside St. Pancreas train station sold them. It has been my experience that I have to leave the house 2 hrs before I have to be anywhere in London. Most times, I'm there with at least 30 minutes to spare, but there have been times I get lost, or trains aren't running like they're supposed to, etc.
I finished my laundry by about 9:30, so I decided to RUN home drop off my laundry and back to the train station and try to make it to the Little Venice walk. (Note: no time to put proper knickers (underwear) on-- the spandex shorts were doing so well after all.) I imagined Little Venice would be fantastic. I imagined being in a gondola, and having the guide sing a bit (why I thought I could take a walk on a gondola, I don't know.)
So, I exit Warwick train station in London at about 11:05 am, and I see a group of people across the street. It was the London Walks people, and I was downright smug I woke up late, did my laundry, and made the walk on time.
My glee was short lived. Soon after we started the walk, the guide said there was a particularly beautiful garden, but that the owner wouldn't let us stop in front of her house so we had to quickly glance at it as we passed by. I got my camera ready and snapped a pic of the house from the outside. I wanted a picture of the garden as well. I had been on so many tours by now that I had experience on snapping a pic quickly as I walk by whatever I'm taking a picture of. I had the camera ready and just as I turned to look at the garden (just a glimpse out of the corner of my eye) I FELL DOWN. The hateful garden of the beautiful house and garden had just moments before finished watering their lovely roses, and left the pavement (sidewalk) completely wet and muddy.
The fall didn't hurt, and I was too stunned to feel embarrassed, but my entire backside, legs, and feet (wearing flip-flops) were covered in mud.
The ladies in the group came to my rescue and handed me the packs of tissues they had, and one lady even tried to help me get the mud off me.
I spent most of the walk trying to get the mud off of me, and WE NEVER GOT IN A GONDOLA. Little Venice looks nothing like the pictures I've seen of Venice, Italy. It has no gondolas, and that's not even it's real name. The most exciting bits of information the guide gave us were the place Alan Turing (father of computing) was born, and the house Madonna almost bought. Wow. :/
I still had to buy Matthew's toy trains, and I still wanted to make The Beattles walk at 2pm. I had one hour to get to St. Pancreas Station and then to Tottenham Court Station in one hour.
I was feeling a bit sticky from the mud, so I wanted to buy some cleansing wipes. Also, I was afraid the mud had seeped through my skirt and I imagined my behind covered in caked mud.
I got to St. Pancreas, and my first stop was Boots pharmacy. I got the wipes and headed for the bathroom. Well, the good news was that mud had not seeped through. The bad news was that my monthly friend had decided to pay a visit. Now, despite my sharing this with you (didn't one of my professor say I have to write about things that make me feel uncomfortable? The roses and urine thing Pablo Neruda said and all) I am an old-fashioned kind of girl. I can't accommodate my guest without proper underwear, now can I???
Luckily, St. Pancreas has a shop called Senza (a cheap and cheery version of Victoria's Secret.) I bought underwear for 3 quid (remember cheap and cheery) at Senza and went back to Boots for girly things, and back to the bathroom (also, lucky St. Pancreas doesn't charge for the use of toilets-- patron saint of those who have to go? most stations charge 30p to be paid with one 20p coin and one 10p coin-- no variation is accepted!)
By this time I had abandoned the hope of seeing Abbey Road or Abbey Road Studios. My dream of being in a picture with another 3 random London Walkees with arms extended at an awkward angle were abolished.
I grabbed a sandwich at Pret a Manger, and I headed in search of Hamley's, the toy store.
The clerks at Hamley's had no idea what Chuggington trains were, but they suggested I visit the main store in Regent Street. It was two stops away on the Victoria line train. I needed to get off on Oxford Circus station and it was a four minute walk from the station. Oxford Circus was CLOSED. I had to get off on the next station which was Green Park station. Never mind-- I used the opportunity to have my sandwich at Green Park. I sat next to an Indian family, who were conversing in their native language. When I dropped my coca-cola, the girl asked me in a perfect British accent if I was okay. She sounded beautiful in both languages.
Because I had no idea where I was, and how to get to Hamley's on Regent Street, I bought yet another London map. I had to cross through all the posh shops. Gucci, Prada, Rolex and model/designer looking people surrounded me (haha!) The Abercrombie and Finch actually had shirtless, real, live models as you went into the store.
Hamley's was an experience in itself! Six stories high, and fun, games, and performers everywhere. Hamley's is older than the U.S.A.! I got Matthew four trains. :)
I think I walked for five or six hours straight that day.
And… I had my second bike riding lesson when I got back to Harold Wood. I was promoted to a bigger bike. I'll post pics later. Ian says I did better on this lesson. I had pizza for dinner and watched Saun of the Dead. I laughed soooo much. First zombie movie I like. :)
I heart London :)
Salisbury and Stonehenge
Last Tuesday I got to visit the legendary Stonehenge. Because it doesn't actually take very long to see this pile of rocks, the people from London Walks have coupled the Stonehenge excursion with the city of Salisbury.
For the past seven weeks I have lived in history, beautiful architecture, and picturesque scenery. Before my study abroad experiences, I could count on the fingers of one hand the times I had been inside a Catholic church. Now, I have visited SO many cathedrals (and I still take pictures of them because they are so elaborate… amazing truly.) On the one hand, I enjoy every moment I spend here. Even the simplest task or experience is elevated because-- well, I'm in the U.K. Even just sitting here in the park typing this blog has me in a near euphoric state (maybe the writing process, or the beautiful weather, or the fact that I feel myself enjoying the outdoors more and more-- whatever the case-- it's effing awesome.) On the other hand, because I've been around so much beauty, I'm not easily impressed anymore.
Although Salisbury and Stonehenge aren't any more beautiful than any other place I've visited in England, I rate it as one of my best excursions because -- well, (hello!) it's STONEHENGE.
Here are some of the things I learned from our guide Richard:
SALISBURY
• Salisbury dates back 2500 yrs. There was no roads, but some trading routes
• Iron age fort- top of the hill then became village of traders with accommodations for them and food
• Sarum was the original name of the town which means dry and desolate ( there was no drinking water at the top of the hill)
• 2000 years ago the Romans came to England and built first roads in England- they made Sarum into Roman fort
• William the Conqueror set up small power bases dotted around the country and he knocked down Roman fort but kept the stone tower which was 5 stories tall
• His nephew built a Cathedral with accommodations for clerics then villagers and a wall were added. Sarum had lots of soldiers and lots of clerics.
• The soldiers would make catapults to break the cathedral windows
• Bishop Poore moved church away from Sarum .. Built present cathedral and finished it in 1258 AD- this cathedral claims to have tallest spire in England.
• In Salisbury there is a tributary of the river Avon ( Avon = river)
• It was a bit risky to build the church where it is because it was so close to the water but unederneath the church there are granit chippings which stabilize the church
• Close= a church surrounded by houses
• It is still a fortified close at 11:30 pm at night the gate closes to city
• The close has houses built between 13th and 18th century
• It used to have a sheep/wool industry and by 1400s it was a wealthy city
• Cathedra - a bishop's chair
• Inside close there is a house for widows of clerics - it was built by a man who in his youth loved a young girl who married someone else , a cleric. When the cleric died, the girl (now an oldish woman) was destitute. In order to help the love of his life without taking away her dignity, he built a grand house for widows of clerics.
• The ladies who live in the house now complain love living there except that they have a 10pm curfew and the pubs don't close until 11pm.
• The oldest house in Salisbury was built in the 13th century and was later named The King's house because James I sometimes stayed there.
• There used to be a college for training teachers and Thomas Hardy's "Jude the Obscure" is set in Salisbury and involves a student of the teaching academy. Thomas Hardy wrote about people he knew and things he'd seen.
• All churches in England are built east to west and the high altar faces the east. The cathedral in Salisbury has a floorplan that resembles a crucifix
• An architect named Wyatt removed all the tombstones when he was commisioned to remodel the cathedral… so we were basically walking over a bunch of dead people as we walked on the lawn :/
• A crusader is buried in the cathedral. His wife was the Countess of Salisbury. He had initially plan to go on a crusade and be back in one year, but he didn't come back. After a few years, he was presumed dead. Because the Countess was wealthy she had many suitors pressuring her to remarry. One man went as far as to organize a huge feast in order for the Countess to marry his nephew. The crusader returned in time for the feast, and the man throwing the feast changed the reason for the feast to a welcome back party for the crusader. Unfortunately, the crusader died a week later. It was rumored that he was poisoned at the banquet, but nothing was ever proven. The coffin (is that's what it's called) where the crusader lies inside the cathedral is made of wood at the bottom and stone at the top. After a flood in the 19th century (I think) they opened up the coffin to assess damage the flood caused. The found a dead rat with all its fur on the head of the skeleton. They couldn't figure out 1) how the rat got there because the coffin was very well sealed 2) how the rat had been so well preserved. They did an autopsy on the rat and found the rat had died from arsenic poisoning. Further investigation found a chunk of human brain in the rat, so this proved the crusader had in fact been poisoned.
• The Cathedral also house one of six copies of the Magna Carta ( signed by King John and states no one is above the law and the initial idea for due process
STONEHENGE
• Saw Sting's weekend house on way to Stonehenge. His wife was the producer of "Lock, Stock, and Two Barrels" which was directed by Guy Ritchie. Sting and his wife introduced Guy Ritchie and Madonna during a party and the new couple honeymooned in Salisbury.
• 7,000 years ago the ice melted and this turned England into an island
• 4,000 BC people in England were hunters/gatherers
• 3,000 BC they started planting/harvesting and communities start to form and they start to domesticate animals: dogs, goats, cattle
• 3,100 BC they start making henge - they dig ditch and creat 6ft bank around it-- it used to have a wood structure -- wood henge
• Henge = ditch + bank
• 2500 BC - new inhabitants of area brought stone
• Bluestone first to be moved from 240 miles away; larger stones are from 18 miles away
• Inside the henge there is an altar stone
• This henge is unique because the stones have been dressed (basically been made into a rectangular shape.) This is amazing because this was before the Iron Age and so they didn't have very good tools. They probably used a stone hammer made from a stronger stone than the stones they were shaping :/ They used animal antlers and shoulder blades to dig holes to make stones secure.
• Stone henge was probably a place to worship people who just died and ancestors
• Because of Stonehenge the inhabitants learned about periods of time (from the shadows the stones made and the path of the sun in relation to the stones) and were able to make a calendar ( spring equinox = equal day and night 21st of March, summer solstice = sun hovers, autumn equinox, winter solstice) They learned how far the sun/moon moved-- sun/moon crossed middle of circle
• It also has 56 holes equally spaced
• DRUIDS DID NOT BUILD HENGE! They told some man they built it and the man published the diary where he said the Druids built the henge, but carbon dating of the rubbish used to stabilize the stones shows it was built way before the Druids got to the area.
• Stonehenge area was also used as a burial ground for leaders of the community. Large mounds containing the leaders' remains and objects to be used in the afterlife lie throughout the area.
• Things that have threatened Stonehenge: Christianity wanting to get rid of pagan symbols, railways that brought tourists, and--
• A man who lived near Stonehenge actually started to rent out miniature pick-axes so that tourists could take a piece of Stonehenge with them!
• Stonehenge has a sacrificial stone as well. Although it is thought that there was never any human sacrifices in Stonehenge, they did find the remains of a 26yr old male near the sacrificial stone dating to about 400 AD. It is thought that money will soon be raised for further excavation of the area to find more remains.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Bath, Inception, Sunday Dinner
The days are escaping me, and I don't know how to stop them! I've been much more consistent about my journaling, but now my blogging has suffered. One of my professors said aspiring writers (and really all writers) have to write everyday. Some days it comes so naturally. I have so much to say. And other days, I have to make myself put my thoughts to paper.
I've been talking about the excursions I've been taking, and really they have been quite enjoyable. They are with a company called London Walks, and I recommend them if you are ever in the London area on holiday. I don't recommend the walks within the city as much as the excursions. My favorite guide so far is Richard because he has great customer service skills and a great posh accent. :) Oh and he saved me from an unpleasant man who was crowding me on the train during one excursion. Of the excursions I've been on, I would rate them from best to worst as follows:
1) Bath
2) Stonehenge
3) Cambridge
4) The Cotswolds
5) Oxford
6) Bleinhem Palace
7) Winchester
8) Salisbury
9) St. Albans and the Verulamium
I went to Bath last week (the pics have been up on my Facebook page for a long time now :/ ) and the reason I enjoyed it the most was because it was absolutely beautiful to see. I didn't take any notes (I've learned taking notes during the tours helps to blog about it later… I'm such a nerd :p) and so I can't remember all the details of how the city was established and such.
Basically the Romans discovered the hot springs and built the baths. The Saxons, who didn't like to bathe, built over them. Eventually, the baths were rediscovered, and Bath became a holiday spot for the English.
Also, Jane Austen lived in Bath for a while and the city is featured in her books "Persuasion" and "Northanger Abbey". Everywhere we walked was beautiful. My favorite houses were built in a circle, but I forget what it was called -- boooo-- (and the guide said the dimension of the circle was the same as Stonehenge-- and we've come full circle :p.)
If you'll notice in my Bath album on Facebook, there are several pictures of lion sculptures. Apparently, for the past few years, artists make sculptures of animals (a different animal each year) and auction them for charity. I took pictures of the ones I saw on our walk.
All of this history is starting to snap together for me. Although I had read about all this history in school, I never really understood it until now that I'm seeing all the different cities and structures where the history took place.
Last Friday, I went to see the movie "Inception." It was brilliant. :) I really enjoy thinking about how I think, and I definitely enjoy dreaming. I usually remember my dreams, and I have had some random dreams come true. These dreams were of the predicting-the-future sort, and I think there was no possible way I could have known something was going to happen. I'm not sure if my subconscious picks up on things and my brain puts two and two together, but it has been freaky to be able to know something was going to happen because I dreamt it. It wasn't the plot of "Inception" that I was thrilled about, but rather the idea of it (how appropriate.) I loved the different levels of dreaming, and shared dreaming… and I liked the kicks that woke you up… and the visual beauty of the movie. Oh, and I loved the fight seen in Level two of the dreams that takes place in the hotel hallway with the kid from Third Rock as they're simultaneously tumbling inside a van in Level one of the dream. Anyway, great movie.
On Sunday, I had dinner (only it was at lunchtime-- they call it dinner here) with Ian's family. It was his father's 72nd birthday, and I had a lovely meal in the company of a lovely family.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
The Cotswolds and Verulamium
On Sunday, I went to the Cotswold. I have decided that if I'm every a millionaire or billionaire I want to have a flat in London and a house in the Cotswolds. You can see pics I took on my facebook page and I am sure you will agree it is breathtaking.
Some facts I learned from our guide:
• meaning of name -- Cots: sheep's pen; wold: hill ; so Cotswolds means sheep's pen hills
• Beginning of villages: 11th century William the Conqueror gave land to the church and built lots of monasteries in the cotswolds
• The villagers main source of income was from sheep: Boys cared for the sheep, men sheared the sheep, women graded the wool, and girls spun the wool (also, the wool was treated with stale urine :/)
• 1500s Henry VIII -during the Reformation he took over the monasteries and sold them to private citizens that converted them into homes.
• 1600s Charles I - Oliver Cromwell - the final battles of civil war are in cotswolds
• 1700s industrial revolution - no coal in cotswold so cloth industry moves out - they take sheep as well - no industry in cotswolds
We passed through several villages on the coach and walked through several villages. Best walk ever! I had seen one in Oxford, but there was loads more in the Cotswolds- kissing gates. It's a gate that only one person can pass through at a time. It's supposedly to keep animals from going through gates cos they can't figure how to maneuver around the gate. It's called a kissing gate because boys would trap their dates in the gate and wouldn't let them go without a kiss.
On Monday, I went to St. Albans and more specifically the site of Verulamium which was a Roman Britain colony. It blows my mind that it existed 2000 years ago.
Facts I learned from guide:
• St. Alban was the first Christian martyr in England. A young man came to his house asking for refuge, and it turned out that the young was a Christian priest. He converted St. Alban and St. Alban helped him escape Verulamium. When St. Alban was asked to make a sacrifice to the Roman gods, he refused, was tried, and executed.
• St. Albans was founded during Medieval times
• Cardinal Wosley (The Tudors!) was an abbot in the Abbey in St. Albans
• Verulamium was the 3rd most important town in England during Roman times
• Verulamium is at the bottom of the hill and over the centuries they moved it to the top of the hill which is now St. Albans
• Golf fact: Samuel Ryder of the Ryder Cup lived in St. Albans and started seed packeting business
• Henry VIII sold monastery to Bacon family (Francis Bacon)
•
Pudding Stone: gravel stuck on some other stone-- unique to St. Albans -- called "witches' or devils' stone because you can never get rid of it. People who live there have to keep clearing it out of their gardens over and over again. also, St. Albans doesn't have any stone natural to area to use to build.• St. Albans is site of proto-Thames - during evolution the river changed course
• Roman emperor Claudius - 43 AD ish - wasn't respected very much and thought of as not very intelligent. Decided to conquer England to have a conquest to his name.
•
Michael's Lodge right outside Verulamium - made in a Victorian style out of flint.• Roman theatre was used a place of worship. Probably the spot was already a place of worship in pre Roman (Celts) time. Celts used water in their worship
• Theatre linked with religions festivals and probably to goddess Minerva
• Time of theatre is around 140 - 160 AD
• The men used brown masks and the men playing women used white masks (sad masks were bad guys, smiling masks were good guys)
• Romans would have real death scenes- they used criminals
• After 313AD theatre considered pagan by Christianity (eventually filled with rubbish)
My favorite part of this tour was the mosaic that was discovered and left in same place. It's fascinating to see how the Romans lived-- they even had central heating!
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Cambridge
I went on an excursion to Cambridge yesterday. I enjoyed it the best of the excursions I’ve taken so far. I used to think I would have loved to be a student at Oxford University, but after visiting Cambridge University, I changed my mind. The list of names of students who graduated from there is soooo impressive (John Milton, Charles Darwin, Christopher Marlowe, Thandie Newton, John Harvard, William Woodsworth, Lord Bryon, Isaac Newton, on and on and on the list goes.) They discovered DNA there and just one of the colleges has had 30 Nobel Prize winners. The caliber of learning and student is absolutely extraordinary I imagine. Their brains probably feed off each other! The place is also beautiful. The city is basically taken over by the university. The university is made up of 30 colleges. Like at Oxford, students have to apply to and interview with an individual college to become part of the university. An undergraduate degree takes 3 years just like Oxford as well. Tuition is the same as any university in the UK -- £3,000 a year. Unbelievable. It’s cheaper to go to an elite school in the UK than a state school in the US. Visited the college Henry VII established (still amazed how much history I have learned from Showtime’s ‘The Tudors’. Also, saw a tree that grew from a sliver of the apple tree responsible for Sir Issac Newton’s discovery of gravity. I visited the church with the pulpit that witnessed the first ever Protestant sermon in England. Visited Emmanuel College from which many Pilgrims that travelled to Massachusetts graduated. So much history.
In the afternoon, I went punting! It’s basically riding in a boat along the River Cam. Cambridge students push the boat along with a long pole by hitting the stone bottom of the river. Relaxing, beautiful, and our punter was very knowledgeable. Told us lots of fun facts about the University (Saint John’s College students are the poshest and snobbiest, Lord Byron thought it clever to find a loophole in the no domestic pets policy by keeping a bear as a pet.. . and other fun facts like that.)
I got myself a Cambridge University rugby shirt. I can’t wait to wear it to college days at school . :D
Midnight Shakespeare and City of Wincester
I can’t believe an entire month has gone by! I spent three days of my fourth week here working on my thesis, and one day shopping. I brought very little clothes (I brought more books than clothes!) and I was getting tired of wearing the same thing over and over again. I visited a charity shop, Primark (a discount department store), Marks and Spencer (also has a food section haha) and Sainsbury (mostly a grocery store). I bought some tops, skirts, and bags. I don’t think I spent more than £4 on each item.
On Friday morning I visited the Victoria Albert Museum and Harrods. In the afternoon, I went to the Tate Modern Museum. Everything I see makes me think globally and also about my personal life. There are so many cultures colliding here in London. The area where the V&A and Harrods is located is very posh. I had a salmon and cream cheese sandwich for lunch! I saw a limo (the first I’ve seen since I’ve been here) and it was transporting two Muslim women. It’s weird for me to see Arabic (?) Muslim (?) women covered up to begin with, but then there are degrees of covering up. Some only cover their head and wear dresses or really long blouses over pants/jeans. Some cover their heads and faces showing only their eyes, but they wear modern clothes. Some are completely covered in black showing only their eyes, but they ride around in limos and shops at the poshest shop Harrods. I don’t understand it all. I suspect that a lot of these women are highly intelligent (I’ve seen some as students around the universities in town) and yet they conform to their cultural/religious traditions. Oh, I also saw two couples. The men had the long beards and little hats, and the women would walk several paces behind them… always… even on the escalator. One of the men would cheerfully turn back every so often and say something to his wife/girlfriend… he even called her babe. The women had heads covered up, but wore modern clothes (all covered up of course… only the skin of sandaled feet showing)
On Friday night, I attended a midnight showing of “A Midsummer’s Night Dream” at The Globe Theatre. The director made some interesting choices which included 1920s period costumes, a female Puck dressed in Vaudeville type costume including black garter belt, and having the actors play three parts each. I would have preferred the traditional interpretation complete with fairy costumes, but I liked being exposed to a different interpretation because it showed me once again how versatile Shakespeare really is. The fact that it was at midnight also added to the magic. The audience was very responsive (packed house) which also added to the experience.
On Saturday, I went on an excursion to Wincester. I got to see the Great Hall used by medieval kings. This is also the area where King Arthur would have lived (if he really existed.) I really should start taking notes when I go on these excursions because the guides give so much information, it’s hard to remember all of it. I visited the Wincester Cathedral where Jane Austen is buried. I learned that the difference between a town and city is that a city has a cathedral with a bishop. While we were at Wincester, they had their annual Hat Fair which dates back to the 19th century. At first we all thought it was a fair celebrating hats. We didn’t see many people wearing hats, and so our guide investigated further. Apparently, it’s a day for street performing. The street performers pass a hat around to collect money, and this is called hatting. In the afternoon, we went on a tour of Wincester College (an all male boarding school) which was established by the Bishop of Wincester, William of Wyckeham. He established it so that 70 poor boys could get an education. Today, it has 770 boys in attendance (70 on scholarship and 700 paying £30K a year in tuition.) Originally the boys would graduate from Wincester College and then continue their education at New College in Oxford University. I caught a glimpse of one of the boys on scholarship (they are the only ones who were black scholar gowns) as I took a wrong turn. Education in the UK seems to be very competitive.
On Sunday, I relaxed, gave myself a pedicure, watched Dr. Who, and visited with Ian’s parents. My first month here has been spectacular. I am indebted to all who made this trip possible. One more month to go!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Wimbledon, Blenheim Palace, Oxford University, Hillsong London, Harry Potter
If you’re following my journey on Facebook, then you have already seen the pics. However, I still need to unload all the images in my head from my third week in the U.K.
WIMBLEDON
I found out my nephew Nathaniel, who plays tennis, would be watching Wimbledon on TV, and I thought getting him a souvenir from the tournament would be extra special. I planned my day at Wimbledon for Tuesday. I had seen the train that went to Wimbledon, so I wasn’t too nervous about finding my way there. I also looked up ticket info online and it said they reserved about 500 tickets at the gate for same day sale. This sounded reasonable as I didn’t even know if I wanted to see a match. My plan was to show up, take a few pics, buy Nate a t-shirt and leave. I figured I would be done by noon and then I could spend the rest of the day working on my writing in London.
Getting from Harold Wood to Wimbledon park was a bit of an adventure. I think I left Harold Wood around 8am ish and I arrived at Wimbledon a bit before 10am. I suspected I got off the train a stop too late, so I asked someone at the train station. They asked me if I had tickets and I said no. They said I had gotten off at the right stop for the queue. The queue is one whole train stop away? Hmm. They suggested I walk left blah blah blah and I saw a Wimbledon souvenir shop. I was tempted to buy a t-shirt there and just get back on the train. But, I said what the hell. I’m here already. The man in the shop gave me a free map to Wimbledon and I was on my way. I saw the entrance to the park but inside all I saw was mothers and toddlers by a spraying wading pool. I saw some smallish tennis courts. I wondered if I had taken a wrong turn. I kept walking because I saw these beautiful rose walkways and then I saw the queue. I tried to gauge whether there were less than 500 people in queue (remember they reserved 500 tickets at the door?) I couldn’t really tell. I walked over to a steward and they said to look for the balloon on a stick and that was the end of the queue. Got there and the queue person handed me my queue card. I was number 8699 in queue. I was informed that only 8500 people could go into the park. All others would be let in on a one-person-leaves-the-park-and-one-person-can-go-in basis. My thoughts included: how much do I love Nate? Can I come back tomorrow? What the hell are all these people doing here?
Nevermind. I was there and I stayed in cue. I had an American couple and a German family next to me in the queue. I read and eavesdropped on them for entertainment. I was in queue for about 2 and half hours before I got into the park. After that it was rushrushrush. There are 19 courts at Wimbledon. My ground pass gave me access to courts 5-19. Not all the courts had seating—people just milled about around the fence. I saw parts of three matches that day. Heather somebody from England, two girls from I don’t know where at center court (they resell the tickets for 5 pounds), and the famous John Isner match. I’m really pleased I was there for part of the match. I left Wimbledon at around 9pm and got home around 11pm. I was exhausted! And I lost my oyster card (travel card for underground and national railway.) I got Nate the official ball boy Ralph Lauren polo shirt (85 pounds!) Overall it was a great experience.
BLENHEIM PALACE
On Saturday, I took a London Walks excursion to Blenheim Palace and Oxford. Again, travelling to the meeting point was an adventure in itself. I got there right on time. Blenheim Palace is the home of the Duke of Malborough and the place where Winston Churchill was born. It’s absolutely breathtaking. It’s the first palace I have ever been /in/ (I’ve been outside Buckingham Palace and the Palace in Madrid… maybe others I can’t remember) I enjoyed the gardens the most. The palace is on 2,000 acres. You could spend all day in the gardens and still not see them all.
OXFORD
After the palace, we took a tour of the city of Oxford and Oxford University. Another gorgeous place. Some of the things I found interesting were that it doesn’t have any classrooms. The University is made up of 38 colleges. You actually apply to an individual college and then you become part of the university. Each college offers all the disciplines (law, medicine, engineering, etc.) The reason there is no classrooms is because most of the learning is one on one with fellows or tutors. The university and colleges offer lectures which students can choose to attend, but they are only required to attend their appointment with their tutor. During the interview process, a tutor will choose the students they will work with. The living quarters are called stairwells. There are usually 4-12 students in each stairwell and each have an individual room (small but they don’t have to share) Each college has their dining hall, library, and chapel. They have 3 8week terms a year. An undergraduate degree takes about 3 yrs (all final examinations are presented the last term of their program) and a medical degree for example takes about 5 years. They can score 1st with honors, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd in their final examinations. It all seems really intense. It’s like most of the learning is on your own, which I completely am in favor of.
HILLSONG
Went to church on Sunday morning at Hillsong London. They had their annual fundraiser Heart for the House on Sunday. I was really impressed with how organized the church was. From the minute my foot stepped inside the church I had guide after guide until I was deposited in my seat. I really like that they reach out to everyone who attends/visits. They have activities throughout the week and they follow up with people who want to be connected to the church. I can see how helpful that is for people who live here. I’m not too sure about the whole performance during the service. It very much has a concert feel. I still haven’t decided what parts (if any) are important to God. It’s a bit confusing. In a way that’s why I like listening to Joel OIsteen (well the few times I have) because he gives a lot of practical advice for daily living. To me, the show is just that – a show. It’s fun and entertaining but it doesn’t help me in my daily life. It doesn’t make me a better person. I guess for some people it does help them in their daily lives but I suspect it’s more ‘fluff’ … like icing on a cake… not very deep or character changing—just a feelgood kinda thing. Like I said, I haven’t really made sense of it all, but it is what it is.
HARRY POTTER LONDON WALK
After that I went on a London Walk on film location for the Harry Potter movies. Not as exciting as I had hoped. I had already seen most of the places in London and I couldn’t remember the movies. Boooo… still took a few pics. I want to watch the movies again so I can keep saying ‘I was there!’
My third week in the U.K. was great. It was actually really hot. I am super dark now! Darker than I am when I’m in the valley.
Today was the first day in a week it’s started to cool down. We’ll see how week four goes.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Camden Town, United Reformed Church and Library Cards
Travel Update 3
On Saturday, I planned to go on a “London Walk” to Camden Town. I got to there at 10am and it didn’t start until 11am. I planned to read until the guide got to the designated point, but there was so much energy and bustle around me I couldn’t resist. I had to start exploring on my own. I didn’t abandon the idea of the guided tout until I had already immersed myself in Camden market bought, bought a leather jacket, and a Union Jack book bag for Jazzy. I did bump into the tour at one point and overheard the guide saying Camden market has over 700 shops.
After a couple of hours of exploring, I began to get scared I would get lost in the labyrinth of shops (they have a canal with boats which they call Little Venice along it as well). Although Camden is known for being the punk central of London, they sell many other items there—clothes, shoes, art, jewelry, antiques, vintage everything, leather goods, souvenirs—just loads of items from all over the world (I even found a stand selling luchador masks and morrales with la virgin on them :D)
They also have food stalls—food from all over the world—every 10 feet you get a sniff of a new smell (both pleasant and not… The Stables reeked as if they still held horses :/)
I didn’t leave Camden Market until about 2pm… absolutely loved it. It was like the Pulga of all pulgas :D—a complete experience.
On Sunday I went exploring for a church. My father is a minister and church is very important to them. I must admit that as much as I complain about having to go to church and teach Sunday School and play the keyboard, I have missed church. I had visited Hillsong Church London two years ago when I was first here. It’s like a mini concert—church service there I mean. A bit overwhelming, but safe because I know the doctrine (what they believe in/preach) so I don’t have to be in hyperalert that they’re weirdos. I told Ian I would go over to his parents’ house Sunday afternoon so he could give his father a present for Dad’s day, so I couldn’t go all the way to Hillsong London. I had seen the sign outside a church called “Breakthru Church” in Brentwood which advertised a 10:30 worship service (lingo I recognize), so I decided to try that church. I took a train and walked to the church only to find a sign saying that that morning’s service would be across town in a different building. Boooooooooooo… I tried to read the map, but it looked like I would have to cross a major highway and it looked too far to walk to in 10 minutes. I remembered we had seen a Catholic church (the one with the cementary) and although I didn’t think my mother would give me credit for going to a Catholic church I figured it was better than nothing (although I must admit, I don’t think I could get anything spiritual from a Catholic mass—for me it’d be more like watching a show—which is really unfair of me… have to work this out in my head.) On my way to look for the Cathedral, I remembered the United Reformed Church by Brentwood Library. It didn’t look open, but a sign advertised Sunday service at 10am. Someone had to be in there! I looked through windows and locked doors and couldn’t make out a chapel at all. With my luck, this was their offices or community center and the chapel was somewhere else entirely.
I ended up walking around the building trying every door until one opened. It still didn’t look like a church, but I heard a man’s voice booming from upstairs so I followed the sound. The chapel was something out of an old British film—with the pews on the sides and chairs in the middle. There was a a massive organ (cathedral size pipes) on a platform in the back. It took me a while to find it because I couldn’t see the organist behind the monstrous instrument. There were about 32 people in all including myself. We sang hymns (which were so easy to follow because the organ played the melody clearly), listened to bible readings, bowed our heads in prayer and listened to a sermon. I sang in a falsetto voice with a British accent (or my version of one) cos no one could really hear me.
I liked that they had two bouquets of fresh flowers up front as decoration, I like the old furniture—very ceremonial. To me, it was like a literary experience—the setting certainly fit a lot of stories I have read and the sermon was reminiscent of a different era. Most of the parishioners were quite old. There are sooo many old people around here--- I mean in their 90s and walking around old. The man who led the service and gave the sermon spoke on the passage of the demon possessed man who had a legion of demons. It was cool listening to a sermon in British accent. He shared an anecdote about the day after the London blitz (bombing by Nazis for months) he saw a sign on a tailor shop that read “more open than usual” – probably didn’t have a door or windows. He referred to the sea in the Bible passage as a symbol of chaos and Jesus as a symbol of peace. History and Literature lesson while attending church—loved it! Regardless of religious views., everyone should send their children to Sunday School—it saddens me when my students (and even university classmates) don’t see the Biblical allusions in literature.
Church was over by 11:10 am. I’m torn between going to Hillsong London (amusement park of churches) or the small, potentially boring United Reformed Church next Sunday.
I stuck around Brentwood until 1pm so that I could print out my first draft of my newest story, but I had it saved in the wrong format. I did however acquire a most valuable possession—a library card! They also give you a mini card to put on your key chain—awesome pants!
Friday, June 18, 2010
Travel Update
I’ve been in the U.K. for two weeks and I barely feel like I’m starting to get used to it. I have a better idea of what my schedule will be like for the next month and a half. I wanted to visit other countries in Europe (like maybe Italy or France), but I’ve decided to see more of the U.K. The times I’ve been here before haven’t been enough to see all of London, much less other places. SOOOO I’m excited about exploring more of the U.K.
Initially, two months seemed like such a long time, but now I realize it’s not very long at all to do all I want to do. My goal academically is to complete 42,000 words towards my thesis. I have about 14,000 words so far. I’m alternating writing days with fun days. So far, it’s working. I’m also doing a lot of reading. I kind of want to read a book a day (in between everything else I’m doing), but that part is kind of impossible. I am managing to finish a book every few days.
Last Tuesday I went to see a performance of Macbeth at The Globe Theatre. I really liked what the director did with the space. I managed to sneak a few pictures of the stage (see London album) before a steward stopped me. Lots of people were taking pics so I thought it was okay. Oh well. The director put a black canopy where the groundlings stand (area right in front of the stage where people can stand and watch the performance… these tickets are cheaper and I think she cost like 2 pence during Shakespeare’s time) and the groundlings would poke their head through a hole in the canopy. But, there were holes with no heads and bloody bodies from hell and witches would poke through those and startle everyone. The best performance in my opinion was given by Lady Macbeth. She has a really powerful, clear voice. It was very easy to understand everything she said. She really made every scene she was in work. They also showed MacDuff’s children getting slayed. The kids must have been 5, 6 at most 7 years old and they died so well. One of the soldiers held up the dead little girl by the arms and she just hung there limply. Wow.
On Thursday I visited a house Charles Dickens lived in for a couple of years. I would so like to have a house like that! It was like four of five floors (one underground) with wood floors, and a back garden. I loved everything about it. Too bad I can’t have something like that built back home.
I have an internet friend from Israel that I have chatted with for years. I want to say almost 10years. Well I got to meet her in person on Thursday! I started chatting with her when she was 16 and now she’s 26 and all grown up! She’s getting her Masters here. I’m from Texas and she’s from Israel and we met for the first time in London. What are the odds!
I visited the British museum late in the afternoon and just as I was getting into the display on Mexico, they announce they are closing some galleries early. I’ve been there before, but I wanted to see the display with my new Chican@ eyes. I think I’ll go again in the next few weeks.
I finally found something I liked to eat today—beans on toast! It sounds super pobrecito, huh… but it’s delicious! :D
The U.K. is great but I still miss home. Can’t wait to see y’all again (oh my friend from Israel says the Texan y’all is elegant (I think that’s the word she used) because we invented a separate plural “you”.
Anyway… xoxo Myra
Initially, two months seemed like such a long time, but now I realize it’s not very long at all to do all I want to do. My goal academically is to complete 42,000 words towards my thesis. I have about 14,000 words so far. I’m alternating writing days with fun days. So far, it’s working. I’m also doing a lot of reading. I kind of want to read a book a day (in between everything else I’m doing), but that part is kind of impossible. I am managing to finish a book every few days.
Last Tuesday I went to see a performance of Macbeth at The Globe Theatre. I really liked what the director did with the space. I managed to sneak a few pictures of the stage (see London album) before a steward stopped me. Lots of people were taking pics so I thought it was okay. Oh well. The director put a black canopy where the groundlings stand (area right in front of the stage where people can stand and watch the performance… these tickets are cheaper and I think she cost like 2 pence during Shakespeare’s time) and the groundlings would poke their head through a hole in the canopy. But, there were holes with no heads and bloody bodies from hell and witches would poke through those and startle everyone. The best performance in my opinion was given by Lady Macbeth. She has a really powerful, clear voice. It was very easy to understand everything she said. She really made every scene she was in work. They also showed MacDuff’s children getting slayed. The kids must have been 5, 6 at most 7 years old and they died so well. One of the soldiers held up the dead little girl by the arms and she just hung there limply. Wow.
On Thursday I visited a house Charles Dickens lived in for a couple of years. I would so like to have a house like that! It was like four of five floors (one underground) with wood floors, and a back garden. I loved everything about it. Too bad I can’t have something like that built back home.
I have an internet friend from Israel that I have chatted with for years. I want to say almost 10years. Well I got to meet her in person on Thursday! I started chatting with her when she was 16 and now she’s 26 and all grown up! She’s getting her Masters here. I’m from Texas and she’s from Israel and we met for the first time in London. What are the odds!
I visited the British museum late in the afternoon and just as I was getting into the display on Mexico, they announce they are closing some galleries early. I’ve been there before, but I wanted to see the display with my new Chican@ eyes. I think I’ll go again in the next few weeks.
I finally found something I liked to eat today—beans on toast! It sounds super pobrecito, huh… but it’s delicious! :D
The U.K. is great but I still miss home. Can’t wait to see y’all again (oh my friend from Israel says the Texan y’all is elegant (I think that’s the word she used) because we invented a separate plural “you”.
Anyway… xoxo Myra
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Macbeth Study Day at The Globe
I really need to start blogging/journaling on a daily basis. The days are going by too fast. Why can’t I do everything I want to do???
Saturday
I’ve been to London before and it was my experience that it takes me 2hrs to get anywhere. This allows for walking time, train time, and getting lost time. I had to be at The Globe between 9:30 am and 10 am. I didn’t leave until 8:45am and I took a wrong turn. Apparently I can’t read hand drawn maps. I finally got to my study day at 10:45 am. The study day was all on Macbeth. It was different than what I was expecting. I was expecting it to be in a large theater and I would be far away from the speakers—but I would look very cool in my Mexican blouse and big hoop gold earrings (people would wonder what a Chicana was doing at a Shakespearean study day.) It was in a small theatre and there were about 60 people in attendance. I usually expect Brits to be conservative in their demeanor, but the bloke who organized the event was very enthusiastic about Shakespeare and very keen on getting feedback from the audience at every juncture.
I don’t have my handouts with me (only my journal where I jotted some notes) so I won’t be able to refer to names of presenters. I know some were professors from universities in London and others were academics involved with The Globe for years. I studied Macbeth last summer while in Salamanca. I read the play and watched the movie directed by Orson Welles. But, I felt like I learned so much more about Macbeth during the study day. (Oh, also learned from Mr. David Sheridan that it’s a tradition in the theatre to call it The Scottish Play. I watched a very funny episode of Blackadder with references to this.)
First Session: Young, female professor talked about the witches. Witches are women interfering with the domestic duties of women—in other words a woman who is a bad mother or a bad housewife could be accused of being a witch. In Macbeth, we see a bleeding of the demonic into the secular and the secular into the demonic. Lady Macbeth’s famous unsex me speech- she asks for spirits to take away her female sex—to stop up her holes basically—no menstrual blood or milk flowing. You can’t do bad things and still be considered female. Or even human for that matter—you have to monster yourself. This makes me wonder what people are capable of doing. Hmm… something to explore for writing. Lady Macbeth also pushes her interpretation of a man on her husband—she tells him he will be more of a man if he kills Duncan. She also mentioned the speculation about the Macbeths being childless. Maybe Macbeth feels less of a man because he can’t father any children. He can’t give Lady Macbeth babies but he can give her a political dynasty. The society of Macbeth was a very violent one. Macbeth is praised for splitting a man in half in battle.
Second Session: Macbeth in movies—The first clip we saw was an Australian film made in 2006 directed by Geoffrey Wright. The three witches are teenage girls in school uniforms. Macbeth is a city gangster. Apparently this is a common adaptation of Macbeth—the gangster view. India also has a movie based on Macbeth- Maqbool and it’s set in the Mombay crime scene. This professor/academic went on to explain why film/tv is different from a stage performance. I had studied this in my film and literature class last summer. Weird bit in Orson Welles’ movie is the witches making Macbeth out of mud—like a mud baby and then slicing off its head. The set in this movie mirrors the stage of The Globe somewhat—with the different levels. In 1957, a Japanese version has no dialogue at all in the murder scene. It is said that in a scene that uses arrows, they use real arrows to evoke real terror from the actors. Yikes!
Third Session: One of the acting coaches read through some lines with us. He emphasized the need for naturalness of delivery. He described Macbeth as being ‘intensitive.” He also said that the text guides us to the meaning of the text and how it wants to be delivered to the audience. I’m not sure I agree with this—or more like I don’t know how to reconcile this with the info the tour guide gave us two years ago. The tour guide told us Shakespeare never published anything within his life time. That the actors in the plays had later gotten together to put the script to paper. I’m not sure what to think of all of it. The acting coach said that this season’s production at The Globe is a visual production—the words bloody and gory have been thrown around (I’m going to watch it on June 15) This acting coach had been working in productions at The Globe for over 10 years, and he said he looks out for the text—speaks out on behalf of the text. It was so cool to have a roomful of seemingly ordinary people reading excerpts from the play in their British accents. They sounded better than any production or reading I’ve seen in the states. Macbeth is the tragedy with the second highest amount of rhyme (Romeo and Juliet being the first.) The acting coach said that rhyming gives comfort to the character. If it’s important enough to rhyme then it must be the truth (or something like that.) He also said that there is a naturalness to iambi pentameter (what??) because it runs at the beat of our heart. He says he doesn’t tell actors what to do—that he responds to what they do. I think I can apply this to teaching as well. He had two actors reading lines as well. The female, Zoe Waitz, had such a powerful voice.
Fourth Session: A professor talked about the politics in Shakespeare. He says that Macbeth tells the story of current, relevant issues. Macbeth is connected to the British unification of the kingdoms. He mentioned the Gunpowder plot to assassinate King James I. The professor posed the question: Is it possible a king can impose his will on his subjects. King James referred to himself as Rex Pacificus when Scottish kings are usually kings of war. Macbeth shows the realities of witchcraft and the divine rights of kings. The Scottish throne was not inherited. The most prominent men (usually royals) voted on a successor. Edward The Confessor, although supposedly very pious, promised his throne to three different successors. Another question: When does a legitimate king become a tyrant? The accepted thought was that if you couldn’t control yourself, then you shouldn’t rule. (This reminds me of the saying: Anyone who volunteers to run for office automatically should be disqualified.) Tyrants are thought of to be effeminate—they can’t control themselves. Also- every king needs an heir and a spare (how sad :/) Can an argument be made that parents have more than one child to have a spare? I usually hear parents wanting a second child so that the first child has someone to play with.
Last Session: A Q & A session with the director of the play and the actress that plays Lady Macbeth. They said working at The Globe is like no other experience. They were both involved in the production of “As You Like It” last summer which I really enjoyed.
That’s it for my commentary on study day
Xoxo Myra
Urine in Writing
I’m in the Harold Wood Library, but it doesn’t exactly feel like a library. It’s really tiny and the front desk clerks are a bit chatty. There’s only one table to work on and I’m sharing it with a man who seems to be studying either math or science stuff. I don’t feel uncomfortable. I think I really am field independent (when you go into a bubble and ignore your surroundings.) In a way it’s bad to be field independent and a writer. I should be noticing every single detail. I will in a minute. Regardless, I got here about 11:30am after doing laundry and I started reading Brian Allen Carr’s thesis. I’m sorry. I hate to be a hater, but it’s just not fair. He’s a young, white, good looking boy with a young, white good looking wife, and an adorable little girl. He has a nice house and a good job. Happy lucky people shouldn’t write this good! I learned about writing from his introduction. One thing I didn’t agree with in the introduction is making dialogue as close to real speech as possible. Hearing real speech and reading it is different-- at least for me. However, I’ve read his first two stories and the dialogue is good—not literally real speech with all the umm’s and incoherencies real speech often has. He states he reads a lot. Emmy has said this as well. I love to read. Used to read two books a week, but going to school full time and working full time makes it difficult to read for fun. I’m hoping to correct that this summer. I have 2 boxes of books and one on the way. I have more books to read than clothes to wear during this trip.
Brian’s writing makes me feel uncomfortable. For the most part, I try to stay in my sparkly, pink, unicorn and butterfly infested world. I don’t like to think about unpleasant, gross, or vulgar things. During writing workshops, some classmates have cried when sharing a creative non-fiction story because it’s so difficult to share embarrassing, tragic stories. I have never written about the saddest, most embarrassing moments of my life. I think I need to explore the “urine” (Pablo Neruda advice) in my writing. I have a least two stories where this will be easier. In both these stories, the male protagonists have a warped love for their women. I’ve also gotten a few new story ideas.
Better get back to work.
Xoxo Myra
Brian’s writing makes me feel uncomfortable. For the most part, I try to stay in my sparkly, pink, unicorn and butterfly infested world. I don’t like to think about unpleasant, gross, or vulgar things. During writing workshops, some classmates have cried when sharing a creative non-fiction story because it’s so difficult to share embarrassing, tragic stories. I have never written about the saddest, most embarrassing moments of my life. I think I need to explore the “urine” (Pablo Neruda advice) in my writing. I have a least two stories where this will be easier. In both these stories, the male protagonists have a warped love for their women. I’ve also gotten a few new story ideas.
Better get back to work.
Xoxo Myra
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Travel Journal Day One
June 4, 2010
I’m sitting on the floor of the room I’m staying in this summer—I’m in Harold Wood which is just outside London. I have papers spread out all over the floor. It’s 4:28pm for me and I arrived at 6:30am. I haven’t paused for days—just been in hyper drive. I mostly like it that way because I get more done, and I don’t have time to panic. So, before I continue working on my paper, I have to unpack my mind. I’m listening to Caifanes on the nano ipod look alike I bought from one of my students (she and the boyfriend she recently moved in with sell them at the pulga.) I’m drinking the red bull Ian had for me when he met me at the airport.
I got my mushy London-Heathrow-Airport-Scene-from-Love-Actually moment! Ian hates that movie and I love it!
Being here in London feels a bit surreal. On Thursday morning, my brother called me to say goodbye and to give me some last minute big brother advice (not 1984 big brother or voyeuristic tv show—literal big brother :p) He asked me when I was returning to the states and I said August 3rd, and then he asked me when I started work and I said August 16th. He said, “You don’t give yourself a break do you?” I thought 13 days was plenty of time. Last year I only gave myself 1 day before starting work. I don’t know exactly how to describe it—being so busy you enter an adrenaline induced euphoric feeling. Even that doesn’t describe it.
I’m really pleased with the academic year that just ended. I feel like I learned so much as a teacher and in my classes at UTPA. The challenges were not so great that they broke me, but challenging enough that I think I improved. The minimester was extremely stimulating—both the content and the frequency made the class very intense.
I was finishing the school year at Donna High School, taking the minimester at UTPA, sort of preparing for my trip, and trying to keep up at best I could with social activities with friends and family (since I was going away for 2 months I wanted to make the most of my time with them.) I was getting very little sleep because of all the reading and writing for my Chican@ poetry class. I just felt like I was busy all the time.
So Thursday morning came so quickly. I hardly slept again because I was working on my final paper for class. I wanted to mail myself the books from the Chican@ poetry class, and so that added pressure to rush as well. My sister was so supportive. She did my hair, took me to a small restaurant on Main Street for breakfast, took me to the post office to ship my books and even paid for the postage. It was a great send off.
Every time I travel, it amazes me how many people travel—people from all different cultures sharing one experience. Because of this, even the traveling bit is exciting for me. For the flight to Houston, I sat next to a man who was hogging up the arm rest… grrrr! But for the London flight, a girl going to India and a boy going to Amsterdam were my seat neighbors. They stayed awake the entire flight! We left Houston at 3:45pm on Thursday and because of the time difference were arriving at 7am on Friday in London. They hadn’t realized this until I mentioned as we were about to land. :P Oh, also while waiting for the London flight, I met this retired lady. I didn’t ask her name… oops! She’s been retired for 10+ years and each year she takes a long trip with her girlfriends! She was going on a cruise and spending most of the summer in Europe. I want to be like her when I grow up!
My worst fear came true—they almost didn’t let me in to the country! I had never had any problems with immigration, but I think I was nervous this time because I was traveling completely alone (independent study so no other classmates arriving around the same time like in past trips.) I forgot to take anything in writing from UTPA so I emptied out my wallet and actually showed the officer emails on my blackberry!
I started writing this on Friday and now it’s 1:28am Monday morning… will try and keep up with my travel journal more. Saturday and Sunday journal coming soon :P
I’m sitting on the floor of the room I’m staying in this summer—I’m in Harold Wood which is just outside London. I have papers spread out all over the floor. It’s 4:28pm for me and I arrived at 6:30am. I haven’t paused for days—just been in hyper drive. I mostly like it that way because I get more done, and I don’t have time to panic. So, before I continue working on my paper, I have to unpack my mind. I’m listening to Caifanes on the nano ipod look alike I bought from one of my students (she and the boyfriend she recently moved in with sell them at the pulga.) I’m drinking the red bull Ian had for me when he met me at the airport.
I got my mushy London-Heathrow-Airport-Scene-from-Love-Actually moment! Ian hates that movie and I love it!
Being here in London feels a bit surreal. On Thursday morning, my brother called me to say goodbye and to give me some last minute big brother advice (not 1984 big brother or voyeuristic tv show—literal big brother :p) He asked me when I was returning to the states and I said August 3rd, and then he asked me when I started work and I said August 16th. He said, “You don’t give yourself a break do you?” I thought 13 days was plenty of time. Last year I only gave myself 1 day before starting work. I don’t know exactly how to describe it—being so busy you enter an adrenaline induced euphoric feeling. Even that doesn’t describe it.
I’m really pleased with the academic year that just ended. I feel like I learned so much as a teacher and in my classes at UTPA. The challenges were not so great that they broke me, but challenging enough that I think I improved. The minimester was extremely stimulating—both the content and the frequency made the class very intense.
I was finishing the school year at Donna High School, taking the minimester at UTPA, sort of preparing for my trip, and trying to keep up at best I could with social activities with friends and family (since I was going away for 2 months I wanted to make the most of my time with them.) I was getting very little sleep because of all the reading and writing for my Chican@ poetry class. I just felt like I was busy all the time.
So Thursday morning came so quickly. I hardly slept again because I was working on my final paper for class. I wanted to mail myself the books from the Chican@ poetry class, and so that added pressure to rush as well. My sister was so supportive. She did my hair, took me to a small restaurant on Main Street for breakfast, took me to the post office to ship my books and even paid for the postage. It was a great send off.
Every time I travel, it amazes me how many people travel—people from all different cultures sharing one experience. Because of this, even the traveling bit is exciting for me. For the flight to Houston, I sat next to a man who was hogging up the arm rest… grrrr! But for the London flight, a girl going to India and a boy going to Amsterdam were my seat neighbors. They stayed awake the entire flight! We left Houston at 3:45pm on Thursday and because of the time difference were arriving at 7am on Friday in London. They hadn’t realized this until I mentioned as we were about to land. :P Oh, also while waiting for the London flight, I met this retired lady. I didn’t ask her name… oops! She’s been retired for 10+ years and each year she takes a long trip with her girlfriends! She was going on a cruise and spending most of the summer in Europe. I want to be like her when I grow up!
My worst fear came true—they almost didn’t let me in to the country! I had never had any problems with immigration, but I think I was nervous this time because I was traveling completely alone (independent study so no other classmates arriving around the same time like in past trips.) I forgot to take anything in writing from UTPA so I emptied out my wallet and actually showed the officer emails on my blackberry!
I started writing this on Friday and now it’s 1:28am Monday morning… will try and keep up with my travel journal more. Saturday and Sunday journal coming soon :P
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Gender Roles at the Nail Salon
Do you have a hypocritometer? You know-- a device to measure how much of a hypocrite you are being?
Well I have one that needs batteries and comes to life all on its own at the oddest moments.
I like having my nails done, but because of lack of time and funds I often go without my guilty pleasure (I have MANY guilty pleasures.) Initally, I decided NOT to get my nails done and simply give myself home manis while in London. In the countdown-to-the-trip frenzy, I zipped into a nail salon as it opened. To assuage the guilt, I grabbed my Xicanista literature to read as I waited. Am I being a hyporcrite by getting my nails done? Do true feminists-- true Chicanas even care about their nails? The answer is -- I don't know. For now we'll adopt a "I can do what I want" philosophy. :D
I wasn't the first person in the salon. A young African American male was already getting a pedi as I walked in. I wish my brain was so p.c. that I didn't notice such things, but it's not. I did, however, think, "Good for him!" That was incident one.
Incident two: The Asian man who did my nails was a man after my own heart. The electric nail filer (I'm not sure what it's called) had rhinestones all over it. I rationlized that he must be borrowing someone else's work space. But, no. It took him about 3 minutes to meticulously arrange the towel on the work table, his rhinestone covered lotion bottle, very cute jewelry box type thing for the powder they use on the nails, and all the other adorable containers he needed to do my nails. I thought he must be gay, but then I remembered what Emmy says, "It's rude to assume someone is heterosexual when you first meet them." By the same token, why should I assume this man is gay because he likes sparkly things? Why are cute things only reserved for women? Not fair, I say.
So as I got my nails done and read about Chincan@s, my brain experienced new thoughts. I think this justifies my getting my nails done. :D
Well I have one that needs batteries and comes to life all on its own at the oddest moments.
I like having my nails done, but because of lack of time and funds I often go without my guilty pleasure (I have MANY guilty pleasures.) Initally, I decided NOT to get my nails done and simply give myself home manis while in London. In the countdown-to-the-trip frenzy, I zipped into a nail salon as it opened. To assuage the guilt, I grabbed my Xicanista literature to read as I waited. Am I being a hyporcrite by getting my nails done? Do true feminists-- true Chicanas even care about their nails? The answer is -- I don't know. For now we'll adopt a "I can do what I want" philosophy. :D
I wasn't the first person in the salon. A young African American male was already getting a pedi as I walked in. I wish my brain was so p.c. that I didn't notice such things, but it's not. I did, however, think, "Good for him!" That was incident one.
Incident two: The Asian man who did my nails was a man after my own heart. The electric nail filer (I'm not sure what it's called) had rhinestones all over it. I rationlized that he must be borrowing someone else's work space. But, no. It took him about 3 minutes to meticulously arrange the towel on the work table, his rhinestone covered lotion bottle, very cute jewelry box type thing for the powder they use on the nails, and all the other adorable containers he needed to do my nails. I thought he must be gay, but then I remembered what Emmy says, "It's rude to assume someone is heterosexual when you first meet them." By the same token, why should I assume this man is gay because he likes sparkly things? Why are cute things only reserved for women? Not fair, I say.
So as I got my nails done and read about Chincan@s, my brain experienced new thoughts. I think this justifies my getting my nails done. :D
Unload
The last few weeks have been CRAZY to say the least. I keep thinking I need to write about this whenever I hear or see something interesting. I think this means I'm starting to think as a writer.
Most days there isn't enough time to process all that happens to us-- too bad.
My Chican@ poetry class has been amazing to say the least. It is everything that education should be-- discovery and life-changing. I look forward to making Chican@ literature a part of my life long learning.
Only two more days to class and I have to turn in my final paper "Coming Out Chican@" in which I explain how I and others embrace the Chican@ identity and label (See one of my previous blogs about the definition of Chicano/a a.k.a Chican@.)
Most days there isn't enough time to process all that happens to us-- too bad.
My Chican@ poetry class has been amazing to say the least. It is everything that education should be-- discovery and life-changing. I look forward to making Chican@ literature a part of my life long learning.
Only two more days to class and I have to turn in my final paper "Coming Out Chican@" in which I explain how I and others embrace the Chican@ identity and label (See one of my previous blogs about the definition of Chicano/a a.k.a Chican@.)
Thursday, May 20, 2010
i'm all pants...
the space above my eyebrows feels like playdough I can poke and smear over my eyes ... my chueco bangs stick to my forehead like sweaty thighs on vinyl car seats in el caminos...
Teaching all day and going to uni for 3+ hours everyday is making me tiiiirrrrreeeeddd.
Just wanted to post my excuse for not posting yesterday and today... have set alarm for 1:40 a.m. to read and write.
Teaching all day and going to uni for 3+ hours everyday is making me tiiiirrrrreeeeddd.
Just wanted to post my excuse for not posting yesterday and today... have set alarm for 1:40 a.m. to read and write.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
After only one day of chican@ poetry and poetics...
After reading Angela de Hoyos' "Arise, Chicano!"
Why didn’t I ever want to rebel against the white establishment? IS it because I didn’t think for myself? Is it because I didn’t consider myself a Chicana? I remember thinking my friends had much heavier accents than me, and how that somehow made me better. How could I ever think that? I definitely need to explore this more.
After reading Jose Angel Gutierrez
I too had the 3-way upbringing...
1) Spanish only at home with the added pressure of fundamentalist Christianity
2) Going to a different school because I was in a G/T class (major Gringolandia), being 1 of only 2 or 3 students who had free lunch and feeling marginalized by it
3) Not fitting in with the neighborhood kids because I was too agringada
Random thought: Maybe because I had a safe childhood? Maybe that's why I didn't rebel against the establishment and I just accepted my submissive indoctrination.
My friend's story She’s 36 years old and she got married a couple of years ago. Her husband makes less money than she does and so she pays most of the bills. She told me she’d like to go on a trip this summer with either her family or with the study abroad program. She said her husband won’t let her go, saying that he wouldn’t go without her-- so why should she go. She feels pressured to look perfectly manicured around his family because they criticize everything about her, and often tell her she’s gaining weight. He on the other had is getting a bigger and bigger belly, and his family thinks he’s gorgeous. Her father always takes her husband’s side. She went shopping to the mall recently and her father asked her if she had informed her husband that she was spending money. Money she earns; money she uses to support her husband. When I witness this, I feel the suffocating thickness of patriarchal rule.
Thoughts about my father:
I often wonder why my father never learned English. I consider him a highly intelligent person-- an expert in his field. I'd like to write a fictional story based on my dad. I wonder if being betrayed by his family influenced his refusal to assimilate American culture. I know it's farfetched, but there might be a connection.
My father was used to being betrayed by his family:
1) At the age of 20+ he went to Cali to work for his wedding. He sent the money to my grandmother to safe keep for him, and my grandmother spent it all-- he didn't even get an apology. He says he had been collecting coins for my grandmother and he simply handed her the jar with the coins when he got to Rio Bravo, and turned back around and went back to Cali to try and work for the money his family stole from him.
2) My dad built my mother a house in Rio Bravo with his own two hands. After about 3 or 4 yrs of marriage and having two kids, they migrated North (into the U.S.) My uncle sold my dad and mom’s house with all their possessions while they were gone.
Some words I encountered in what I was reading...
Pachuco, pachuca, chuco chuca, ruco, ruca, vato, rascuache
Another random thought...
England invaded many countries and had many territories, commiting attrocities and exploiting their people. Today, they let people from these territories into their country as a compensation (maybe for the bad things they did.) The U.S. should do the same with Mexicans. They it owe it to us. ( I have to do research on this because I'm just saying :/)
Anyway... I know this is all random... but they were thoughts swimming around in my head.
xoxo Myra
Why didn’t I ever want to rebel against the white establishment? IS it because I didn’t think for myself? Is it because I didn’t consider myself a Chicana? I remember thinking my friends had much heavier accents than me, and how that somehow made me better. How could I ever think that? I definitely need to explore this more.
After reading Jose Angel Gutierrez
I too had the 3-way upbringing...
1) Spanish only at home with the added pressure of fundamentalist Christianity
2) Going to a different school because I was in a G/T class (major Gringolandia), being 1 of only 2 or 3 students who had free lunch and feeling marginalized by it
3) Not fitting in with the neighborhood kids because I was too agringada
Random thought: Maybe because I had a safe childhood? Maybe that's why I didn't rebel against the establishment and I just accepted my submissive indoctrination.
My friend's story She’s 36 years old and she got married a couple of years ago. Her husband makes less money than she does and so she pays most of the bills. She told me she’d like to go on a trip this summer with either her family or with the study abroad program. She said her husband won’t let her go, saying that he wouldn’t go without her-- so why should she go. She feels pressured to look perfectly manicured around his family because they criticize everything about her, and often tell her she’s gaining weight. He on the other had is getting a bigger and bigger belly, and his family thinks he’s gorgeous. Her father always takes her husband’s side. She went shopping to the mall recently and her father asked her if she had informed her husband that she was spending money. Money she earns; money she uses to support her husband. When I witness this, I feel the suffocating thickness of patriarchal rule.
Thoughts about my father:
I often wonder why my father never learned English. I consider him a highly intelligent person-- an expert in his field. I'd like to write a fictional story based on my dad. I wonder if being betrayed by his family influenced his refusal to assimilate American culture. I know it's farfetched, but there might be a connection.
My father was used to being betrayed by his family:
1) At the age of 20+ he went to Cali to work for his wedding. He sent the money to my grandmother to safe keep for him, and my grandmother spent it all-- he didn't even get an apology. He says he had been collecting coins for my grandmother and he simply handed her the jar with the coins when he got to Rio Bravo, and turned back around and went back to Cali to try and work for the money his family stole from him.
2) My dad built my mother a house in Rio Bravo with his own two hands. After about 3 or 4 yrs of marriage and having two kids, they migrated North (into the U.S.) My uncle sold my dad and mom’s house with all their possessions while they were gone.
Some words I encountered in what I was reading...
Pachuco, pachuca, chuco chuca, ruco, ruca, vato, rascuache
Another random thought...
England invaded many countries and had many territories, commiting attrocities and exploiting their people. Today, they let people from these territories into their country as a compensation (maybe for the bad things they did.) The U.S. should do the same with Mexicans. They it owe it to us. ( I have to do research on this because I'm just saying :/)
Anyway... I know this is all random... but they were thoughts swimming around in my head.
xoxo Myra
I used to be smart... (Personal Statement for Chican@ Poetry)
I used to be smart. I was the first female in the McAllen I.S.D. to take Calculus as a 16 yr old. Whatever things I accomplished in high school, I did so easily-- never working hard at learning and never really caring. Because of my high SAT scores, I got letters from all the Ivy League schools, Stanford, and even MIT. I fulfilled several quotas: I was smart, I was female, and I was a minority. I thought I could only afford to apply to two universities: UT Austin (which gave me a scholarship and sent me a filled out application for me to sign) and St. Mary’s University.
Life was so different when I was 17 yrs old. I had no identity and I was so inexperienced. My brother told my parents students at St. Mary’s were required to go to Roman Catholic mass every morning. My father is a Pentecostal minister and he believed my brother. Add to that the fact that the scholarship St. Mary’s offered only covered half the costs (and that’s because I was accepted into their honors program.) My parents could offer no help and no advice, so I went to UT Austin.
I was a chubby, Mexican girl who wore glasses, and I didn’t like to party! I still wasn’t taking my academics seriously, and I came back home after one year.
When I was 19, a boy paid serious attention to me for the first time in my life, and even though I didn’t really like him, after a few months I agreed to go out with him. I married him at the age of 22 because my mother had gotten married when she was 22, and my sister had gotten married when she was 22. He took the little self-esteem I had, and I lived wishing for my death for the next four years. I was aimless for years, having lost faith in myself.
I became interested in music, and I learned to play a little piano, bass guitar, and acoustic guitar. I started songwriting, and decided to return to college to take some music classes. I made the Dean’s list my first semester, and got a taste for academia. I switched majors and finished within 3 yrs with Magna Cum Laude honors. I got to travel, and I also got the Dean’s Outstanding Student Award Spring 2009.
I push myself very hard. I’ve worked fulltime throughout my schooling (sometimes carrying 21 semester hours.) Most of the decisions that I made as an undergraduate (including applying to the MFA Creative Writing Program) I made because I love being a student. I suspected I could transfer that love to teaching and I was right. It’s the perfect existence for me—a continuous cycle of learning and teaching.
Something snapped into place for me this school year. It was a combination of writing about my strict religious upbringing and reading Gloria Anzaldua. Something that had been missing all of my life is now a fuzzy light inside me I can identify. I am so far from where I want to be—and I don’t me success-wise—but knowledge-wise (no pun intended!) I want to become an expert in Chicano/Chicana literature. I want to be a Chicana writer. I feel like I found a part of myself, and I don’t want to let go now. This doesn’t mean I can’t be a Shakespeare expert or do a million other things (I still do music and many other dorky things as well.) What it means is that I am free to be myself—who I was born to be—who I shape myself to be.
I used to be smart. Now I’m on my way to being wise.
Life was so different when I was 17 yrs old. I had no identity and I was so inexperienced. My brother told my parents students at St. Mary’s were required to go to Roman Catholic mass every morning. My father is a Pentecostal minister and he believed my brother. Add to that the fact that the scholarship St. Mary’s offered only covered half the costs (and that’s because I was accepted into their honors program.) My parents could offer no help and no advice, so I went to UT Austin.
I was a chubby, Mexican girl who wore glasses, and I didn’t like to party! I still wasn’t taking my academics seriously, and I came back home after one year.
When I was 19, a boy paid serious attention to me for the first time in my life, and even though I didn’t really like him, after a few months I agreed to go out with him. I married him at the age of 22 because my mother had gotten married when she was 22, and my sister had gotten married when she was 22. He took the little self-esteem I had, and I lived wishing for my death for the next four years. I was aimless for years, having lost faith in myself.
I became interested in music, and I learned to play a little piano, bass guitar, and acoustic guitar. I started songwriting, and decided to return to college to take some music classes. I made the Dean’s list my first semester, and got a taste for academia. I switched majors and finished within 3 yrs with Magna Cum Laude honors. I got to travel, and I also got the Dean’s Outstanding Student Award Spring 2009.
I push myself very hard. I’ve worked fulltime throughout my schooling (sometimes carrying 21 semester hours.) Most of the decisions that I made as an undergraduate (including applying to the MFA Creative Writing Program) I made because I love being a student. I suspected I could transfer that love to teaching and I was right. It’s the perfect existence for me—a continuous cycle of learning and teaching.
Something snapped into place for me this school year. It was a combination of writing about my strict religious upbringing and reading Gloria Anzaldua. Something that had been missing all of my life is now a fuzzy light inside me I can identify. I am so far from where I want to be—and I don’t me success-wise—but knowledge-wise (no pun intended!) I want to become an expert in Chicano/Chicana literature. I want to be a Chicana writer. I feel like I found a part of myself, and I don’t want to let go now. This doesn’t mean I can’t be a Shakespeare expert or do a million other things (I still do music and many other dorky things as well.) What it means is that I am free to be myself—who I was born to be—who I shape myself to be.
I used to be smart. Now I’m on my way to being wise.
Monday, May 17, 2010
more re(google)search :P
also according to wikipedia :/ (i'll get some creidible sources soon... i promise!)
The origin of the word is not clear. Mexican researcher Villar Raso attempted to trace the origin to 1930s and 1940s California, although most Chicanos believe the term far predates that assessment some believing it comes from Texas. Nevertheless, according to Raso, the term supposedly stems from "the inability of native Nahuatl speakers from Morelos state to refer to themselves as Mexicanos, and instead spoke of themselves as Mesheecanos, in accordance with the pronunciation rules of their language." It is also thought that the word may have roots in the term "Mejicano," an archaic Spanish and American spelling of "Mexicano," which through the last century evolved into "Jicano" or "Chicano". The pronunciation was supposedly misunderstood by some Mexican Americans, who exaggerated the sound.
The origin of the word is not clear. Mexican researcher Villar Raso attempted to trace the origin to 1930s and 1940s California, although most Chicanos believe the term far predates that assessment some believing it comes from Texas. Nevertheless, according to Raso, the term supposedly stems from "the inability of native Nahuatl speakers from Morelos state to refer to themselves as Mexicanos, and instead spoke of themselves as Mesheecanos, in accordance with the pronunciation rules of their language." It is also thought that the word may have roots in the term "Mejicano," an archaic Spanish and American spelling of "Mexicano," which through the last century evolved into "Jicano" or "Chicano". The pronunciation was supposedly misunderstood by some Mexican Americans, who exaggerated the sound.
Xicana- I did some research... okay, I googled it
According to Wikipedia: "The terms Chicano and Chicana (also spelled Xicana) were originally used by Americans in reference to U.S. citizens of Mexican descent. The term began to be widely used during the Chicano Movement, mainly amongst Mexican Americans, especially in the movement's peak in the late 1960s and early 1970s. The self-identification Chicano is still in popular usage today by some Mexican-American youth. However, the term Chicano was never in use in the Southernmost sections of Texas and was not historically mentioned by members of the Mexican-American community."
Two years ago today...
the events of the following poem began to unfold.
My Fancy
Myra Infante ©2010
Not forever but while I expire
I’ll row with you
And break Spanish trundles
As we rally allegiance
I’ll leave you sheathless
As the rain drips on your
Exposed head trickling
Down the scars affixed to your arm
Ruthful I’ll cede god and country
And harvest leftover insecurities
To feed my conceits
Of brine and scrawls
My Fancy
Myra Infante ©2010
Not forever but while I expire
I’ll row with you
And break Spanish trundles
As we rally allegiance
I’ll leave you sheathless
As the rain drips on your
Exposed head trickling
Down the scars affixed to your arm
Ruthful I’ll cede god and country
And harvest leftover insecurities
To feed my conceits
Of brine and scrawls
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Lazy Weekend... Love Lost and Found Again
Saturday
Went to the early bird showing of “Letters to Juliet.” The young American blonde girl, who works as a fact checker for The New Yorker, aspires to be a writer, and is in an unhappy relationship with Gael Garcia Bernal. Farfetched, but he was playing a wanna be Italian. At first, I thought they had given him an Italian role, and I thought yay versatile Mexican actor, but towards the end of the movie, as they make him more a jerk, we find out he’s a wanna be Italian. The plot has its problems and the writing does as well (ironic since the Amanda Seyfried is playing a writer.) BUT, once the soppiness began, I got happy. :D How can you resist a story about an American girl falling in love with a British boy? When the secretaries of Juliet say Englishmen are cold, the British Boy reminds them Shakespeare wrote Romeo and Juliet. LOVE IT!
The rest of the day was a lazy, guilt-less day. No homework and no worries.
Sunday
Taught Sunday School to itty bitty kids—have one more class to teach. I’ve been trying to quit for ages, but there is no one who wants to take over the class. I must admit, the littlies have grown on me. I posted pics on Twitter (link on my page) I had to teach them the Lord’s Prayer. I don’t think they got it.
Took a nap after lunch (yay at Sunday afternoon naps!) Now I’m thinking about going shopping. ☺
Tomorrow hectic schedule starts again! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!
xoxo
Myra
Went to the early bird showing of “Letters to Juliet.” The young American blonde girl, who works as a fact checker for The New Yorker, aspires to be a writer, and is in an unhappy relationship with Gael Garcia Bernal. Farfetched, but he was playing a wanna be Italian. At first, I thought they had given him an Italian role, and I thought yay versatile Mexican actor, but towards the end of the movie, as they make him more a jerk, we find out he’s a wanna be Italian. The plot has its problems and the writing does as well (ironic since the Amanda Seyfried is playing a writer.) BUT, once the soppiness began, I got happy. :D How can you resist a story about an American girl falling in love with a British boy? When the secretaries of Juliet say Englishmen are cold, the British Boy reminds them Shakespeare wrote Romeo and Juliet. LOVE IT!
The rest of the day was a lazy, guilt-less day. No homework and no worries.
Sunday
Taught Sunday School to itty bitty kids—have one more class to teach. I’ve been trying to quit for ages, but there is no one who wants to take over the class. I must admit, the littlies have grown on me. I posted pics on Twitter (link on my page) I had to teach them the Lord’s Prayer. I don’t think they got it.
Took a nap after lunch (yay at Sunday afternoon naps!) Now I’m thinking about going shopping. ☺
Tomorrow hectic schedule starts again! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!
xoxo
Myra
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