A Trip to England, and the Fleeting Nature of Time

Today marks one month since I left my house in Barrington for my grand adventure. I can hardly believe that I'm more or less one quarter of the way through my time in the UK. Before I left, four months seemed like an awfully long time to be gone, but now four months hardly seems enough time to fully involve myself in the life of another country. Alas, the demands of a rigorous major require me to be in Minnesota for the spring semester, hoping that schedule karma will be on my side and allow me to enroll in the courses I need to graduate on time! But, enough of being sad way before it is time to be sad, and on to greater thing!

Friday brought my first, and thus far only, 24-hour time scare. I was pretty sure that my travel itinerary said that the bus to take us to our homestay would pick us up from Pollock Halls at 17:30 (5:30pm), and so, I set out at 3:10pm to buy a pair of cheapo headphones and some conditioner. I had walked two blocks or so when all of a sudden, I had a panicked thought that the bus was leaving at 15:30 (3:30pm). I told myself I was being stupid and the sheet had definitely said 17:30, nevertheless I sprinted back to my flat, ran up the three flights of stairs, and checked the itinerary to find out that I was indeed correct, and we weren't leaving until 5:30. I must have had the thought because of a combination of the facts that 1) I only remembered that there was a 5 involved in the time, and 2) the bus home on Sunday was actually at 15:00 (3:00pm).

After that whole mess was sorted out, I proceeded to buy what I needed, get back to my flat to pick up my backpack, and walk over to Pollock Halls to get on the bus. The bus ride down was beautiful, but also nausea inducing. This was to become a trend for the weekend. A bunch of us had been sitting at the tables in the back of the minibus, so some of the girls who had been sitting facing backwards had to go find other seats to sit forwards. Personally, I have never really experienced motion sickness in a serious way until this weekend, and I was not expecting it. I suppose it must be a combination of winding roads, hills, and the changes in speed required to drive under those conditions. This was the only reason I was glad that I hadn't eaten before getting on the bus.

We had a very small-world experience as it turned out that three of us on the bus had been JCLers, and one of the other girls, Danielle, had actually gone to LT High School and been a student of Ms. Jolicouer! The similarities between us continue, as she also goes to school in Minnesota (but at Bethel), and she's minoring in Classics. We had been placed in the same homestay, so that was pretty cool. When we got to Penrith, our destination, we were all so glad to be off the bus, but it was COLD. Our host mom, Elena, came to pick us (the two Danielles and myself) up from the bus. The drive to Ormside Hall (their house) was about half an hour, and we were all really hungry, really nauseous, and pretty tired, so it was a quiet drive, but when we got there, we brightened up quickly at how amazing her and her husband Julian's home is. Ormside Hall has a tower dating from the 1100s, and a main house from the 1500s, and it is beautifully decorated with knick-knacks from all over, as well as very lovely art and many maps of the surrounding country. It was freezing though, aside from the kitchen and the living room, both of which made me feel as though I had walked right into a Jane Austen novel.

Elena showed us to our bedrooms and then we went downstairs and met Julian, with whom we talked until Elena was done cooking dinner, which was garlic bread, salad, and spaghetti carbonara. Usually, I won't eat anything with 1) bacon and 2) cream sauce, but ohhhhhh man, was I hungry, and so it was fantastic. Elena and Julian told us about how they are going to Egypt on Wednesday and everything they are going to do while they are there. We were pretty jealous, needless to say. They have been all over the world, except to North/South America. They have been all over Europe to see various gardens, which I guess provided inspiration for their beautiful and functional garden. Dinner on Saturday contained potatoes, courgettes (zucchini), and beans all from their garden! But, I am getting ahead of myself. Dessert was a selection of locally produced cheeses from the town of Appleby. Danielle J and I were excited to eat Wensleydale cheese, made famous by Wallace and Grommit. We talked more for an hour or two before we went to bed, exhausted, but entirely satisfied.

In the morning, I woke up before the other girls, and I heard, for probably the first time in my life, an actual rooster crowing. It was incredibly bucolic. I got dressed and went downstairs to find an elaborate breakfast spread. Cereal, toast (of various kinds), oatcakes, about a thousand different kinds of jam/other condiments, tea, coffee, apple juice, orange juice, and boiled eggs. None of us had ever had a 4-minute egg before, so we were sitting with our egg cups in front of us unsure of how how to go about cracking and eating a soft-boiled egg. After much unsure tapping at our eggs, we finally got them properly opened. I decided that I like soft-boiled eggs a lot. Julian told us the story about how Prince Charles once sent back 100 eggs before he got one that was suitable for his consumption. Danielle S. must have been thinking about this long and hard, because about 10 minutes later she said that his cooks should just take out eggs at various increments so that they're already done when he sends them back. It was pretty funny. We lounged about at breakfast, talking about ourselves and getting to know each other until we had to go to meet the other groups to go to the Lake District. Elena left the Danielles and myself with another family, Jackie and Allen, and we were off to see the sights.

Jackie and Allen were hosting 3 girls, so the Danielles and I smashed into the back backseat of the car. After having to stop for pictures about every five seconds on the road there, we got to our first stop, Aira Force, which is a waterfall. Streams and creeks are called "becks," and the waterfalls stemming from those are called "forces," hence Aira Force comes from the Aira Beck. It was so nice to get out of the car. I felt like my legs were going to fall off after being folded pretty much in half to fit in the car! We walked around for a while to absorb the scenery

From Homestay Weekend Ormside

and we got to the bottom of the path and saw a DOUBLE RAINBOW! Yes, for real.

From Homestay Weekend Ormside

If you click the links under those pictures, you can see all the photos from this weekend. Anyway, we got back in the car and went to a lake, which I think was called Buttermere, but I am not entirely sure. While half of the people ate lunch, we went rowing on the lake. Corey and Ying were fantastic and rowed, while Sarah and I relaxed.

From Homestay Weekend Ormside

Ying used to be on crew team, so we had the situation under control. It was so beautiful to see the fells (mountains) surrounding the lake on all sides, with stone walls and paths running up the slopes. So much was green, but also, the dying ferns on the fells made them reddish brown. It made for quite the contrast.

From Homestay Weekend Ormside

And, sheep everywhere. Allen told us that there is a Roman road called High Street that runs along the tops of the fells in that region because it was along the shortest route from Point A to Point B. I wish we could have gone up, but obviously we were on a very limited schedule! We had lunch (soup, and it hit the spot. It was COLD on that lake!)

From there, we drove to a stone circle called Castlerigg. Though it was not very high up, the view felt like you were at the top of the world. There were green expanses everywhere, with fells and valleys encircling the site. There is a legend that if you count the same number of standing stones twice, you will turn into stone. It's a good thing I didn't even try...

From Homestay Weekend Ormside

We took some nice pictures, and some silly pictures. We didn't really want to get back in the car, because all of us were at this point feeling pretty nauseous every time we drove anywhere. Allen took us sightseeing (in the car, of course) all over these windy single-lane mountain roads. I swear, I felt like I was going to throw up and I had a headache like no other, as did some of the other girls, but it was worth it to get to some of the places we saw.

From Homestay Weekend Ormside

From Homestay Weekend Ormside

We finally got back to meet Julian, and he drove us back to Ormside Hall, where we were quite glad to sit by the fire and have tea. We went over to St. James' Church (the village church of Ormside, and literally 10 steps from their gate) to have a look at the Harvest decorations and see the building itself (impressive, as a large portion of it is from about 1100), but it was locked so we decided we would go back in the morning so we could have a look around.

From Homestay Weekend Ormside

I've already told you about dinner that night. Though, we finally learned that pudding doesn't actually mean pudding, it just means dessert. Unless you're talking about black pudding, in which case, don't eat it. The Danielles and I went to the garden to try and catch some of their cats and play with them, but they were all very shy. There was a kitten that was no bigger than a pineapple, and it was the cutest thing ever. After dinner, I introduced everybody to Letras, and Julian and Elena LOVED it. I seriously considered leaving my deck of Letras cards with them, but it is such a good thing to have when one is travelling that I couldn't bring myself to part with it. They really liked the Chicago playing cards and the book I brought them, though, which was good.

In the morning, we walked over to the church and got the inside scoop from the vicar (I think?). We got to see the tower that used to basically just be a pit in the ground until they put in a floor this year, so the vicar would have had to ring the bells while precariously perched over a dropoff in the floor. St. James was also the location where the Ormside Cup/Bowl was found, and it's apparently one of the best examples of Anglo-Saxon gold found in England.
Unfortunately for us, it's at a museum in York so we didn't actually get to see it. But, we did get to see some pretty ancient stonework and the Lepers' Squint, where the unclean people would crouch outside to watch the normals go to church. That was awesome.

When we got back, there was more bacon, eggs, and all of the other breakfast items of the previous day. Julian showed us pictures of castles in Scotland that wouldn't be too hard to get to for us to visit. We talked about films and sports and how in the US you can take lots of different classes no matter what you study. Julian got our email addresses so that we can stay in touch, and then we left to meet the other groups at the chocolate shop/factory place. It was so sad to say goodbye to Julian and Elena. It was a shame that we had all just gotten to know each other and gotten comfortable with each other when we had to leave! Perhaps we shall meet again, though. They had long before agreed to go to a luncheon party, so we were left in the capable hands of Margaret, the site leader, and Chloe, her daughter (who, incidentally, is on the GB National Womens' Water Polo Team... she'll be in the Olympics!). We had the most wonderful mochas ever, bought some chocolate (expensive, but totally worth it), and then crammed into Margaret's tiny car to go back to her house for lunch. She had the cutest dogs, one of which was a very tiny dog named Vic Parson, who wouldn't stop bothering everybody to pet him, and of course, I obliged since I am a sucker for puppies.

Margaret and Chloe pretty much laid out Thanksgiving dinner on the table for lunch. There were only six of us, but SO MUCH food. I'm not even kidding, there was stuffing, turkey, ham, brisket, yorkshire pudding, potatoes, cauliflower, asparagus, and carrots. Plus, dessert, which was apple cobbler and custard. We were all so full, and the drive back to the bus (and, the bus) was a downright unpleasant experience due to that fact. I don't understand how I can be entirely fine on roller-coasters, but a car in England is not okay. The bus took the scenic route back. I was pretty much trying to sleep most of the way, but when I caught a view from the window, it was gorgeous. I was a little jealous when I found out that my flatmate Katherine had been on a trip to see the ruins of Melrose Abbey on Saturday, but the homestay weekend was a truly wonderful experience, and I can probably manage to find a way to see Melrose! We found out that there's an International Student Center trip to Lindisfarne in November, and we will certainly go on that one.

This brings us back to the present. Classes, reading, studying, etc. We cooked penne with a tomato basil and bell pepper sauce, topped it off with prosciutto, and I made sauteed spinach with garlic and peppers and then bruschetta for a side dish. I'm kind of pro at cooking now. It was delicious but I'm still full like 4 hours later. Like, so full that I can't sleep so I'm writing this blog entry. I'm going to read some of my Archaeology of Rome book and hope it puts me to sleep... it's a pretty dry textbook.

the rundown: class, flatmates, friends, and the weather

I'm almost done with classes for the week. It's just this last one at 4:10 on a Thursday that stands in the way of my weekend (not that I have any huge plans or anything. I'm going to Shap, a place of which I only have the slightest notion of a corresponding geographical location, for my family homestay). So, here's the skinny on my classes for the rest of the semester:

1) Archaeology of Scotland (MTh (9:00-9:50): Sounds really interesting. Includes a field trip. However, I was a little disappointed to find out that all of the cool Roman stuff happens second semester, when I shall, sadly, be back in the US of A toiling away at my actual degree. Nevertheless, our course organizer was pretty cool, and today's lecturer showed up and taught class in a leather motorcycle jacket. We're starting off with a study of Scotland's post-glacial environment, so I zoned out a little as I am quite familiar with the basic information our lecturer was giving us on the retreat of glaciers after the last ice age, techniques for learning about past environments (ice cores, pollen analysis), and the Gulf Stream's influence on the climate of Great Britain. Hooray, geology, issues in the environment, and meteorology for teaching me things I can feel smart knowing in my life now! The only bother about this class is going to be the large number of essays (okay, mini-essays) that we have to write after each tutorial, plus a museum project, plus a final. At least I know that it's going to be interesting, so the writing should not be too much of a pain.

2) Scotland and Orality (MTuTh 4:10-5:00): I think this is going to be my favorite class. Our course organizer (almost nobody is called a professor in these parts) is delightfully Scottish, and the material is extremely interesting. In just two classes we have already listened to clips of "diddling," rap from the late 80's, and a passionate Southern preacher. Diddling is a sort of singing where, well, you diddle. Instead of singing words, you sing a melody using syllables generally similar to "diddley do." I thought it was pretty sweet. Maybe I should take it up as a hobby for myself, though I guess you still need to be able to carry a tune to diddle. I've already got a few books I need to make time to peruse as background reading (Oh no, I am voluntarily doing unnecessary reading? Is the world coming to an end?!). I'm so excited for the opportunity to learn about and actually do some fieldwork later in the semester. Interesting tidbit about this class: only six people of the 40 or so in the lecture are not visiting students. Weird, right?

3) The City of Rome (MTu 5:10-6:00): This is my token actual-progress-towards-a-degree class. I had been hoping to take Early Vergil and get some Latin language out of the way, but it was not in the cards. I couldn't take Cicero the Advocate and Scotland and Orality, so naturally, I picked Scotland and Orality. If you know me in a Latin-related context, you probably know my contempt for our dear friend Cicero. So, the normal organizer of this class, Lucy Grig, is on maternity leave, which is too bad, because I guess that Dr. Nicholson knows her in some capacity. I am sort of worried that the class is maybe a little too archaeologically focused for somebody who lacks any archaeological experience, such as myself, to be able to enjoy it. I was thinking about transferring to a class about the Severan Dynasty, because Elagabulus was a really interesting figure, but I had already signed up for my archaeology tutorial at a time that conflicted with the lecture, so that idea went out the window. In any case, I will make the best of this class since the material is so interesting, and it's half-seminar. I am sort of nervous for when it will be my turn to lead a seminar. I haven't had to do anything like that at Minnesota, and I am quite worried that I will come up short. I do not even know what my assigned topic will be yet, so I will cross that bridge when I come to it.

So, there you have it, my schedule in all its glory (and no class on Fridays!). I also have no class Wednesdays and a lot of free time every other day, but I am pretty much spending it in the way most students here seem to spend their time: in the library. There is so much reading that needs to be done for all of my classes. I had to take a break before I fell asleep in a textbook about Roman archaeology, so naturally I decided to blog.

Yesterday, was an excellent day. I woke up, read as much as I could in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo before I felt like I should probably be doing some work, then I talked to my roommate, Kaisa, who is from Ukraine, and we discussed our backgrounds. Up until now, I had barely spoken three words to Kaisa, who pretty much keeps to herself in her room (we can't really keep our doors open, so it's easy to stay in your room). Caroline, Katherine, and I spend a lot of time talking in the kitchen, and I feel like I've gotten to know them pretty well, and they are both really fun (though, in entirely different ways). We're planning to start cooking weekly "family" meals in the flat, which is going to be fun. But, I digress...back to Kaisa, it turns out that though she came from the Ukraine, her family is Bulgarian, and she regrets having not been able to communicate very well with her great grandmother, who didn't speak any Russian at all. She shared some of this amazing sheep's cheese from her grandparents farm, and it was sooo delicious. She explained that very nearly everybody in Bulgaria as well as in the Ukraine has sheep and makes their own version of this cheese, and she doesn't know what she's going to do when she runs out of her supply, because she eats it every single day.

We talked about going to the places we are from, and how you feel something, even if you're not in the particular town in which your ancestors lived. She went to Bulgaria this summer, and I went to Sweden, and it was cool to talk about connecting with our cultures. We both had this feeling in our respective destinations, of coming home, even though neither of us can understand the language of those countries. We also talked about how much we both want to learn more about our ancestry and collect the family stories. Since her ancestors moved around a lot and crossed borders, there is a lot of documentation, so they've been able to construct a pretty good family tree. For all of the times I have become interested in genealogy, I feel like I know almost nothing about anybody in my family before my grandparents. I've heard so many family stories, but I can't piece them together and keep track of the cast of characters or anything. This conversation reminded me that I probably owe a lot of people letters from Edinburgh, so I'll try to get around to that relatively soon.

At night, I hung out with the ClassicsSoc at a pub for a few hours, enjoying the free food that comes with pub sponsorship (I really wish that clubs at Minnesota could a)be sponsored by bars, b)meet at bars, and c)get drink specials at those bars due to sponsorship. I think Classics Club could get a lot more members if we could have events such as "drinking free wine and playing toga frisbee in the park." Anyway, after the pub needed more space for a Spanish language conversation group, we decided to hit up Teviot (one of the Student Union buildings), where we enjoyed cheap beverages and conversation ranging from which British TV shows I had to watch, which American TV shows are awesome, Stephen Fry, American Football, and whether I could be considered the replacement for the cool American exchange student (conclusion: yes).

We also played the game where you have a sticker on your head with a name and you have to ask yes or no questions to guess who you are. Everybody thought it was hilarious when I ended up with Sarah Palin, and when I was pretty sure I'd figured it out, my clincher question (in my full-on Sarah Palin accent, as Middlebrookers reading this might remember with a tinge of annoyance from election season) was, "Can I see Russia from my house?" After that, I became Elton John, and it took me FOREVER to figure out who I was knowing that my person was British, a singer, somebody Americans would know, alive, and possibly in a movie or two. In fact, I couldn't do it until somebody, frustrated with my inability to guess, shouted "YOU'RE GAY!!!!" That did it nicely as a hint, haha.

I figured I better go home because I had a 9 am lecture, and everybody was trying to stop me from leaving, but oh, I value my sleep. Unfortunately, I left a little too late in the lull in the rain, and it started pouring as I walked home jacketless, umbrellaless, and in ballet flats. My hat and the flannel shirt I was wearing were still wet this morning when I checked on them. Oh, Scotland, you and your rain! It's been raining all day today, too. Somehow, the city seems almost more beautiful in the rain, though. The old buildings fit right into the grey of the sky, and Arthur's Seat looming on the horizon under steel-colored clouds is such a striking image that I kind of stop and gape for a minute or two nearly every time I look in that direction. The other day, there was still sunlight even with the big dark clouds over Arthur's Seat, and it was one of the most fantastic vistas I have experienced in my young life. I wished that I had my film camera with me. Actually, I could have even gone for my silly digital point-and-shoot, which had run out of battery earlier in the day. I still need to climb Arthur's Seat, but I just don't want to get caught in bad weather on the way up. Obviously, I should do it sooner rather than later, since the further towards winter we get, the less likely I am to be comfortable. Naturally, we'll climb up on 5 Nov, no matter what the weather, so that we can see all of the fireworks and bonfires over the city for Guy Fawkes' Day!

Okay, that's enough procrastination... I really didn't mean for this entry to get any longer than a basic picture of my classes, and here I've gone and written a novel. I have 20 min til my next class, so that's not really enough time to do much of anything. I hate that lag time between classes or meetings that you feel just becomes wasted time. I'm in the library, which I'd assume should be quiet, but they're doing construction, so I keep hearing jackhammers, which sort of eliminates the purpose of going to the library for a peaceful and quiet place to study. Ah! It stopped raining, so I can use my 20 min to walk around in the Meadows, which is the city park. Excellent.

dichotomy

I have lately been thinking of myself as two people. Scottish Claudia and American Claudia. Scottish Claudia is INFINITELY cooler.

In America, I fall prey to the temptation of wearing sweatpants and sweatshirts to class all the time, and if not that, jeans and a T shirt or hoodie. Here, I don't even have a hoodie, and I have maybe two t-shirts. I also don't own any sneakers. I shouldn't be defining myself by possessions here, but I feel like it actually makes a huge difference in my life. I think I am changing for the better: I feel more ambitious, motivated, and confident. I talk to people I don't know, I go to parties, I jump at the opportunity to participate in a dance that I have no idea how to perform (well... I did at the ceilidh, even if I wouldn't try out swing dancing in a style I didn't know). I guess that there is comfort in the fact that a lot of other people at the university ceilidhs also have no idea what they are doing.

Also, my flatmate Katherine and I cook a lot. I feel like we've made more different and exciting things in the last week than I made in an entire school year of living in my apartment last year. In less coolness, but more better personness, I've already started doing work for classes and we're only 2 days into the semester. I woke up at 8:30 am and was at the library by 10:15. Go ME! I'm working on learning how to be a better student and really making the most of my academic opportunities, because I only have three classes, so it's a little harder to get overwhelmed by different material.

I went with my friend Lauren to a place called the Jazz Bar tonight. We had been planning to go to a Uni-sponsored white t-shirt party (neon pens, blacklights), but the posters lied and said the shirts were free, which they weren't. Also, it looked like it sucked, so we just decided to go to the bar. There was an open mic night, and Lauren decided to go up and sing. She was absolutely amazing. I always find myself really jealous of anybody with actual musical talent. It was very strange because it seemed like everybody who went up to play with the band was from Ohio (including Lauren). How unlikely is it that there would be so many Ohioans who don't know each other, in Edinburgh, in the same bar!?

We ended up sitting with these two guys who go to a different university around Edinburgh. They were both 18, and really excited to hear about American university parties. First, let me comment on how strange it is to be sitting in a bar, drinking with 18-year-olds. I think they must have been recently 18, because they were a little overenthusiastic in ordering beers. I had a Blue Moon, and one of the guys, after dissing all American beers, decided he had to try one, and then proceeded to have like, 4 more.

Second, they couldn't figure out why we had come to Edinburgh from America, since they both said that all they wanted to do was move to America. They were both blues guitarists, and they were so passionate and about blues, that I was a little surprised. One of them asked me about the Chicago Blues Festival when I told him I was from Chicago, and also asked if I had ever been to Buddy Guy's Legends, and an assortment of other clubs. Crazy.

Third, one of the guys had a picture of himself doing a keg stand with a tiny Euro-sized keg. Lauren and I explained that no, we hadn't done keg stands, because we are responsible, mature girls, but that there are people who do that sort of thing. They thought that frats and frat parties were just mythical things that didn't actually exist, so I told them about my tradition of watching drunk girls fall over on frat row every Halloween. They laughed and said they'd like to see that someday, as if it were Niagara Falls or the Grand Canyon. I find it hilarious how everybody asks about things like beer pongs, uni parties, red Solo cups, and so on and so forth. It makes me wish I had gone to more parties at Minnesota so I could have more stories to entertain my Scottish friends. So, uh, now I'm gathering stories in Scotland to tell my Minnesotan friends. That's how this exchange thing works, right?

Okay, 3 am has arrived, so even though I don't have class on Wednesdays, it's probably time to go to sleep so I can hit up the library at a reasonable hour. I'll post about my classes by the end of the week. So far, they are, for the most part, excellent!! My family visit weekend has been moved to this weekend due to a conflict with a field trip when I was supposed to go, so that will be another experience to look out for.

OH, one more thing. I have a recently formed addiction to WNYC Radiolab. It is really amazing, and I highly recommend listening to the podcasts off of iTunes (particularly the episodes on Words and Falling)!

Scottish Things, More Observations, and the Pope

So I wanted this entry to be focused on pictures, but it's not letting me upload any, so you'll have to use your imagination until I put up a link to an album.

I feel like I have, for the most part, been carpe-ing the diem. However, I am incredibly exhausted at this point in Freshers' Week, and I think a lot of the other students are as well. Right now, I am so tired that all I want to do is go to sleep, and it's only 11:20 PM and I got plenty of sleep last night. I remember back to Welcome Week of freshman year, how much I wanted to just start classes and have a routine with set places to go every day, and I think a lot of people here are starting to get that feeling, including my flatmate, Caroline. To give a point of comparison to anybody reading this who experienced Welcome Week, Freshers' Week is like Welcome Week on speed. Since the drinking age in the UK is 18, almost all of the events involve alcohol in some way, and for the first several nights, there were at least 3 Uni-sponsored parties to choose from every night. In the next few nights, that will be the case as well, but the last two nights have been pretty relaxed.

In the first two days of Freshers' Week, I went to my first ceilidh, which is a traditional Scottish dance (pronounced like kay-lee). It was so much unlike anything I have ever done in my life, and it was probably one of the most fun! I had asked one of my flatmates, who is also American, if she wanted to come with me, since it was probably going to be a good way to meet people, and there was free Scottish Yummies (more details on that in a second), but she didn't want to come, because she doesn't like dancing, so I headed off by myself. That was certainly a run-on sentence, but I don't care. When I was waiting in line to get into Teviot, one of the student union buildings, I started talking with a group of girls in front of me, and we ended up hanging out at the evening's events. First, we waited in an enormous line for our share of the free food, of which the main attraction was, you guessed it, haggis.

Now, I had been dreading the eventual moment when I was going to have to eat haggis, since I had come all this way to Scotland, but when I started to smell the food, it did not seem like a bad idea at all. Also, I was not (and still am not, really) entirely sure what haggis is. I've heard that you just have not to think of what it is (just like hot dogs), and it will be okay. I was imagining a sausage-like food of a nasty creamy or stomach-y color, but it just looks like ground beef. So, I got my plate with my haggis, stovies, tatties, and maybe some other kind of food but I can't really remember what anything was called, and we all sat down. Here's the kicker: haggis is DELICIOUS. It's kind of spicy, and warm and comfort food-y, and just really yummy. As are stovies (I think it's some sort of root vegetable mashup stuff), and tatties (mashed potatoes). Haggis really just reminded me of shepherd's pie. mmmmmmm. So, with that conquered, I went on to my next authentically Scottish experience, the ceilidh.

There were so many people crammed into the room, and we had had to sneak in, since it was full. Anyway, I guess a ceilidh is sort of like country dancing, because there's a lot of swinging your partner round and round involved, and everybody's kind of in a line. The wonderful thing is that in all of that swinging round, you meet loads of folks in a night. I could tell that the two Scottish girls who were in my group were a little frustrated with the rest of us for not catching on too quickly to how certain dances went, but we were all having fun, even if we were doing it wrong. There was one that I felt I was doing okay at, but then when we switched partners and I was dancing with this one guy who seemed to be an expert, my self-confidence failed a little. Then, we went back to dancing in a big group and it was good again! The ceilidh band had fun playing a tune that I assume must have been from the Full Monty, because they had the lads all dancing for the lasses, and one guy ripped off his shirt at the end (it was pretty funny, see the photo for the awkwardness of the whole event).

I was still feeling a little sick at that point in time, so when the band took a break, a girl whom I had met during the dance, Holly, and I went to go get water. We ended up sitting in the bar talking for an hour or so, when I decided I should go home and sleep and Holly went back to the ceilidh. This was a good choice, because I felt a LOT better in the morning, and I've been feeling much better all week, and I think I'm pretty much as good as new.

So much has been going on that I can't really remember what day anything happened, but at some point between Sunday and Monday, I went to Edinburgh Castle. I was pretty excited about seeing Mary, Queen of Scots' chambers, and just in general seeing the castle. It was as cool as I had hoped! The castle is a mish-mosh of buildings from various time periods and monarchs, all the way up to the present day. It houses an active regiment, and affords some gorgeous views of the city and the Firth of Forth. Luckily, it was another beautiful day, and at that point, I still hadn't experienced any of the bad weather for which Scotland is rather well known. I spent so much time around the castle that I lost all of the people with whom I had come, so I meandered back to my flat at Hermit's Croft and took part in later day activities.

On Monday, there was a West Coast Swing taster session. I was so jazzed to be able to dance again. Of course, it was all incredibly simple and we didn't get to do any free dancing or anything, but it was still nice. That reminds me... I think I forgot to go to the swing dancing tonight. Whoops. There's a social dance tomorrow night, I think. Otherwise, there are a lot of venues for swing dancing around the city. After that, the main event was the Headphones Party. Again, none of my flatmates wanted to go, but a girl from my program met up with me, and we went. It started late, which caused us to be the first to show up, which was super awkward, but then, the whole point of a headphones party is pretty awkward. Everybody gets a headset, and the radio station DJs from like 9 pm to 3 am, with two channels to choose from. So, it's a "quiet" dance. It was hilarious to take off my headphones and just watch everybody rocking out, or sing along to Don't Stop Believin', or do the YMCA with no music. I'm so glad I went, because we met a cool third year and a PhD student who invited us to their house party this weekend, so we'll get to meet some more people who are our own age. I didn't get to bed until like, 5 am. It was sort of crazy for me, since usually I go to bed at around 10 and I value my sleep like gold.

The next day, of course, I ended up sleeping til noon or so, went to more Freshers' Week activities, met a ton of people, and then went to a concert with Caroline and some of her friends. I think I've heard of the Futureheads before, but they're really big here. The show was just nuts. I ended up seeing my friend from the Butler program, Ying, and meeting some of her friends. We walked back to Hermit's Croft, and then Caroline came home and informed me that I should go to the party a few floors down. I'd been planning to go to sleep and I didn't have any alcohol, but I went with them anyway. I always forget how awkward it is to go to a party and not drink, but it ended up being really cool because I met even more people from the building. There are so many nice people here! I met a girl, Zoe, who said I was the first NICE American that she had met at the Uni, and she said that her roommates seemed not to like her, and they didn't try to talk to her at all, or said they couldn't understand when she talked. I was actually doing a pretty good job following her, which was sort of impressive when one considers my inability to comprehend accents, and how she was pretty far gone while this conversation was happening.

I decided to go to home at around 3 am, and naturally, went on Facebook. I tried to talk to the Jeffers, but Mom told him to tell me to go to bed, so I did. I woke up, went to my international student meeting, and then nothing remarkable or exciting happened until yesterday night, when we (my roommate Katherine and fellow Barringtonian Katherine Woodrow)went to a pub quiz. It was... interesting. We couldn't understand half of what the quizmaster guy was saying because they were playing music, the sound system was awful, and he had a really thick accent. Our team was really dysfunctional, and I feel like an answer didn't get written down about half the time. Also, one girl kept just yelling "TENEREIF" (as in the place in the Canary Islands), which was very strange. Needless to say, we did not do too well. It was, however, a good time when all was said and done.

This morning, I felt so exhausted that I decided to get caught up on Mad Men rather than going out and doing things. That is, until I remembered the Pope was coming to Edinburgh. Now, I have no particular interest in the Pope or Catholicism, and those of you who know me well know that I quite actively disagree with most of the man's policies, beliefs, and general mores, and I certainly don't approve of his past Nazism, but I really wanted to see the Popemobile. Don't ask me why, but I think it's super awesome that there is actually something called a "popemobile." I would like a bulletproof "Claudiamobile" and to have somebody to drive me around in it. So, Katherine and I trekked down to Princes' Street as fast as we could, and caught most of the parade leading up to the Papal visit. There were so many tiny bagpipers, it was absolutely adorable. It got pretty chilly in the half hour between the end of that and the arrival of the Pope, but he finally rode past, and I caught a glimpse of the fabled popemobile, so I left happy.

We went shopping more after that, and I bought a brita-type pitcher for water, and we finally got some knives. We got home, but went back out to the poster sale to spruce up our barren rooms. I may have gone a little bit overboard, but I feel so much happier with covered walls. I have to figure out how I'll get my new posters back to America when the semester is over. I certainly don't want to get rid of them, because they're cool, and they came out to something around $5 each. I can't figure out the exact conversion rate for the moment, but $5 is pretty close to the cost, I think.

When we got home, we decided to drink the Irn Bru we had purchased earlier. I've been attempting to make a vlog episode all day, but the sound seems to be desynchronized with the video on my camera, which is disappointing! Basically, Irn Bru is this beverage that is so bad for you they don't sell it in the US, which is really saying something about it. Caroline tells me that they are known for their controversial ad campaigns. Irn Bru tastes sort of like bubblegum mixed with cola, but not really. It's just really, really sweet. And also bright orange, but it doesn't taste like orange. I can't decide if I like it or if I hate it. It's just soooo sweet. It certainly improved when paired with a sandwich. Maybe I'll have it again later.

I meant to go to a chocolate party tonight, but we left too late, and missed out on all the chocolate. I thought about going to a ceilidh, but I was really tired so I just came back to my flat and decided to catch up on my blogging. Tomorrow there is the freeshop, where I'm hoping to obtain a bicycle, some dishes, and maybe a towel hanger or something. It's also picnic day for many societies I'd like to join, so I'll have to pick and choose wisely. I was thinking about going to play with the rugby team, but I don't think I'm going to do it. I don't really have proper athletic shoes or anything, plus I don't feel like getting beat up. I had a go at archery the other day, and the guy told me I did pretty well and I should come back to have another go on Monday, so if it doesn't interfere with class, I'll probably do that.

Speaking of classes, it turns out that Early Vergil is not being offered, and Cicero the Advocate conflicts with Scotland and Orality, the folk history class I really want to take. So, I enrolled in "City of Rome," which looks really interesting, but is only general Classics, and not Latin. This means that I'll have to take one more Latin course at the U when I get back, but that's not a big deal, 'cause I'd have had to take a classics class otherwise. Here's the observation part: they've been telling us that we'll probably get 60's-70's as grades, because you start from zero and work up here, whereas in the US you go from 100 down. Now, I thought this was going to be horrible, but one of the girls I was talking to today said she thought it would be horrible the US way, because you'd be under so much pressure. The UK way, anything you do is an achievement, and so it's easier/more rewarding to have grades that way. I had never even thought about that. In the US it's about taking away points/punishing the student for doing something wrong, and in the UK it's about earning marks for doing things properly. Interesting.

My fingers are actually cramping so I'm going to sign off on this one!

so my last post seems to have caused quite a stir...

Let me defend myself here for a moment:

I'm not saying the Danish system is not good. It's wonderful that anybody has the opportunity to go to college. I think what I mean is that I cherish my education with a particular fervor, because I had to earn it (sort of). A degree is not a magical piece of paper, but I think the point my Danish friend was trying to make was that since you go to school for something incredibly specific (i.e., he goes for performance arrangement, which as far as I can tell means booking shows), when you do time in that, but then decide to be, say, a motorcycle mechanic, it is not as if you've given yourself part of a liberal arts education, you have learned how to do one thing, like midwifery (apparently the subject with the hardest entry requirements in Denmark).

If Europeans want a liberal arts education, for the most part they have to come to America or Canada to get one, so only the wealthy have access to that, since international students obviously don't get a shot at financial aid. So, to sum it up, there are pros and cons to every system. The American system benefits from a wide variety of choice and an emphasis on a well-rounded education, as opposed to something that is more like trade school, in which you only take classes about one thing. The Scots/Brits are all surprised when they hear the classes that we, the US students, are taking during our semester here, when compared with our majors. If you want to take Scottish ethnology, you better be a Scottish ethnology major!

Second, I am not defending the toys that sports people get at my uni. I think giving them mopeds is ridiculous. I'm simply saying that the benefit that I saw was that people who were drawn to give money to the University to build a stadium were also encouraged to give a matching donation for a scholarship fund, which created, I think, at least a few million in new academic scholarships for students. I unfortunately enrolled at the University a year too early to reap the benefits for National Merit scholars...

Stay tuned for details of my first ceilidh, how delicious haggis actually is, and my exciting Scottish night on the town. And maybe some pictures too.

differences

It seems that everywhere I go, I am drawn into conversation about the American higher education system. People are baffled by a number of things related to the aforementioned. Nobody can imagine that I have friends who pay $50,000 every year to go to school, and they wonder how anybody manages to pay back loans. In Denmark, Johan told me that not only is school free, students get paid an allowance every month to cover living expenses. It seems to be relatively similar in both Sweden and in Holland (though, from what I gather, it's not entirely free in Holland). It sounds too good to be true to get paid to go to school, and in a way, I guess it is. Johan was telling me about how so much money gets wasted, because a lot of people will do two years and then drop out, because it's not like they're losing any money or anything. Also, he told me that it's almost unheard of to go to school away from your home because there are only a few universities in Denmark anyway, so you go to the one that lets you into the degree program you want to study.

I feel like I really appreciate the choices that we have in America, though we have to pay (dearly) for them. When I started my college search at the end of my sophomore year of high school, I had, literally, thousands of options, and I could go to study whatever I wanted. In the UK, students know exactly what they are going to do before they finish high school. There is hardly any room to change your degree, and almost nobody does it. My RA actually changed from theology to political science (maybe that's what it was... this conversation happened during a pub crawl, so you'll have to forgive me. It's hard to talk in bars), and she said it was very very hard to convince the university to let her do that. I STILL have no idea what exactly I'd like to do with myself when I graduate. I don't have a specialization area for my major, I don't know if I want to go to graduate school, and I certainly don't know where I would like to do that. These 18 year olds have their lives planned out, and they all seem pretty damn confident about their choices. I changed my major one semester into my freshman year, and while it set me back a little bit, nobody argued with my choice, and it was, in fact, supported.

People looked at me so strangely when I told them I had taken an English class, a Latin class, a few environmental science classes, and a dance class during first semester last year. The liberal arts idea is not a common one around here. I think I would die if I had to take all science classes all the time. Okay, that's melodramatic, but my decision to study abroad and learn about something totally new and interesting is the case in point: I needed a break, especially since next semester will actually be all science all the time. I find it difficult to focus my thoughts on one thing for quite a while without the extra stimulation of concentrating on something completely different. I think that is why I am continuing with my Latin major.

Another major difference: sports. Coming from a Big 10 school such as the U, it's sort of hard to separate athletics from my education. The facilities dominate campus, the athletes are riding around on their scooters, and the student body is abuzz on game day. Anytime I try to explain athletic scholarships to my friends, they just stare at me quizzically. Why would we go to see non-professional athletes when we have perfectly good professional teams? Why on earth would a college pay people to come to the school if they're not the most gifted academically? I suppose we wonder these things ourselves, sometimes (i.e., football players get big scholarships and free mopeds... where is my moped?!), but the athletics bring in money that can be used to support academia (like how Bruiniks worked to get stadium donors to also donate to a scholarship fund). I like having sports on campus... it's a way to bring the students together, but I can definitely see whence the European confusion springs. Without the experience, it's hard to understand why a university would spend so much money on sports!

That's it for now, but this is just the first post in a series highlighting big US/UK differences. I'm feeling a bit better, and tonight I am going to my firstceilidh, or traditional Scottish dance. I might also try some haggis... but it's small steps at first.

edinburgh, at last.

I forgot in my last entry to describe taking the tube during rush hour, which was quite the experience. I was smashed like a sardine into the train, and I felt like such a jerk to be taking up as much space as I was. Oh well, it’s not like I had tried to take so much on in a crowd at any other time, and there was really no other option for getting to the train. I ended up getting there just 10 min before the train left, but I got on and it was all okay. I got to Edinburgh and hauled my crap up some giant hills to get to the orientation hotel. Straightaway, I met some pretty nice people, but I unfortunately missed the free sandwiches. Boo! We walked around the city until dinner. My camera ran out of battery for the first time on the trip, which was incredibly sad.

The hotel beds were so amazing after hostel beds/couches/air mattresses, that I slept all night and barely managed to wake up in the morning in time for breakfast. I love English breakfast. Whoever thought of eating baked beans in the morning was truly a god among men. The rest of the day was orientation stuff, the highlight of which was the Captain of Edinburgh police talking to us. He looked sort of like Craig Ferguson and pretty much spent the entire time cracking jokes about how much he liked drinking, and how much Edinburghers like drinking. But he also did have some important information for us. Today, we had another guest speaker, a member of the Scottish Parliament, who was equally as hilarious. She told a girl that she should marry her grandson, and invited a guy to come with her to an Edinburgh Hibernians football match next weekend. Everybody was INCREDIBLY jealous of the guy. That exchange led to her promising to make the attempt to get us a group rate for a game in the future so that we could all go.

When everything was done, I went out shopping with some girls. That wasn’t particularly exciting. That brings us to now… I hear people singing Don’t Stop Believin’ out the window… I bet it’s kids from this program. I am surprised that they could be drunk enough by 9 pm… but I feel like a lot of people came here solely to party. I need to get better so I can join in. I think I may have a sinus infection rather than a cold, but I don’t want to see a doctor about it or anything, because I hate taking antibiotics for something minor. I haven’t really gone out at all yet, because I just don’t want to make anything worse. So tonight, I came back the earliest yet, at like, 7 pm and just crawled into bed after I repacked all my stuff to move into my flat tomorrow. I just feel pretty gross, and it sucks because Fresher’s Week is a non-stop week of events and I don’t want to have to miss anything! I’m thinking about just going to sleep, and I’ll write a more introspective and less narrative entry later.

The End of Phase I

I'm writing this entry on the train to Edinburgh, because I feel like I probably won't have too much time to write much until orientation is over. Leaving London was actually really sad, even though I am really excited to get to Edinburgh and start the semester. I feel like you never contemplate how much you haven't seen until you are about to leave. Additionally, I made some pretty cool friends, so I am obviously going to have to go back to London (and they might come visit me in Edinburgh!). My host, Osman, and I went to the pub on Monday night to meet up with CouchSurfers and play games, and I lost at Shithead (i.e. village idiot, asshole, whatever you call this particular game), so this guy, Andy, from Australia was insistent that sometime in the future, we have to play again so I can redeem myself. He also told Osman to bring a big picture of my head when they play again this week, so that whoever has to deal the cards can use it as a mask. Haha, I'm pretty terrible at cards.

Back to Stockholm: on Sunday, Tove, Jonas' roommate, and I enjoyed some oatmeal, then caught the bus and met up with a few of her friends at the harbor to go on a hop-on, hop-off sightseeing tour. We went to the Vasamuseet, which is a museum that's main attraction is a huge warship that sunk on its maiden voyage in the 17th Century. It was really, really interesting. I could probably have stayed there all day, but we had more to do and see! So, I spent most of my time in the museum looking at the exhibit about the skeletons they found around the ship and the possessions they found by the bodies. It was quite an interesting way to learn about the life of seafarers, but also about archaeological methods, etc. Then, we went to Skansen, which is an outdoor folk museum sort of thing, and it is supposed to represent all of the different parts of Sweden in a miniature setting. I ate Swedish meatballs, saw reindeer, and saw a lot of different buildings of a Swedish sort. Tove was very excited to show us the farm representing her area of Sweden (the south).

After Skansen, we were all exhausted and happy to ride the tour boat for a while, until we got to Gamla Stan (the old town), where we walked around the palace, the Storykyrka and browsed the lovely array of shops. Tove and I went back to the flat, where we relaxed by making Swedish pancakes. Tove was getting frustrated because the temperature wasn’t getting to the optimal point, so the pancakes kept ripping or not cooking exactly the way they were supposed to. She said she felt like a failure as a Swede, but eventually, we got it down, and they were deeeeelicious. Jonas went out, and I read for a while, then went to bed early, since I was still not feeling particularly wonderful, and I had to leave the flat at 5:30 the next morning.

Now we get to the exciting part of my story, in which I have my first encounter with Ryanair. I feel like every study abroad student has this experience. I had already had an easyjet flight, which I thought was actually quite pleasant, despite having to pay an arm and a leg to get to Stansted from London. Easyjet is no frills, yes, but they don’t have a weight limit despite having a size limit for your one carry-on bag. On Ryanair, they actually weigh your baggage. Knowing this, I got dressed in the morning by putting on my leggings, then my jeans, then my boots, and my dress, and my sweater with a scarf. When I got to the airport, before going through the bag check, I decided that my bag might still be too heavy… So I took my blanket out, and put it on as another (giant) scarf. I also took out my iPod, wallet, phone, book, and a few other things, and stuffed them into my pockets. I imagine I must have looked quite ridiculous, but it was a damn good strategy, because when I put my backpack on the scale, it wavered between 10.1 and 10.0 kilos until finally settling at exactly 10.0 kg.

The plane itself is just a Boeing 737, but the inside is gross-ified. The entire trip, the flight crew is advertising various junk to buy. There is NO PEACE on a Ryanair flight. Honestly, after all of the administration fees and getting to the airport and all, I may as well have just paid for a normal flight. We’ll see about how it goes in the future, but I do not have a very favorable view of Ryanair. As soon as I got to the airport, I ran to the bathroom and stripped off a few layers so I could be a normal person again. I got through passport control no problem, and then went back to the city. I chilled for an hour or two to take care of vital communication, and then I went to the Science Museum, which was pretty cool. I met up with my friend from Couchsurfing, Osman, at the tube stop by his place, and then we waited for his other surfer, a German girl named Luisa, to get back. We watched some TV, specifically, “Are You Smarter than a 10 Year Old?” and I strengthened my conviction that all British TV is just weird. After that, the pub trip that I highlighted earlier occurred.

The next day, I had to battle the Tube strike to pick up my 60 or so pounds of luggage from the Canadian High Commission, and I was wondering how on earth I was ever going to manage to do so. I figured out that a taxi would cost me almost 30 dollars, which seemed pretty damn steep. So I found out that the Northern Line still had a good service, and since there was a stop right by Osman’s flat, I could take it to within just over a mile of the High Commission. When my dad’s friend found somebody to help me since she wouldn’t be there, I set out on my voyage. I walked the wrong way out of Tottenham Court Road station, but realized it pretty quickly. I was running a little late at this point, but I made it to the High Commission within about 10 minutes of when I said I should get there. The lady who helped me was incredibly nice, though she was very surprised I was American, because she had been expecting a German, based on my name. So, luggage in tow, I managed to get back to the tube, and back to Osman’s flat.

I was so tired that I just sort of loafed around for a while before deciding to go to the Imperial War Museum. I got there, but realized I had taken a very roundabout way. I looked at the WWII stuff, and then wandered into the Holocaust exhibit. This was a mistake. It was so interesting, but so heartbreaking. I didn’t make it all the way through to the end, and then I decided to go look at the spy exhibit to pick my spirits up. It’s strange how even though I have been exposed to so much about the Holocaust through all of my classes (even as early as middle school), but I couldn’t even get through this exhibit. I think it was the abundance of pictures and the video clips of Nazi speeches, rather than just reading about it. When I got back, Osman was cooking dinner. Yum. After we ate a little something something, we headed to a different pub for another CS party night meetup thing. There were SO MANY people at this! I couldn’t keep track of everybody I met, but there were a few people whom I’ll probably see again.

Luisa wanted to go, but Osman and I were having a good time (though again, I wasn’t drinking because I was feeling not so great), so we said we’d stay a while longer. Then, when we wanted to go, we couldn’t get Luisa to leave. Luisa, who could probably be a model, was surrounded by no fewer than 6 men, all making the googly eyes at her and clinging to every last barely-understandable word (she hardly speaks any English. It was kind of amusing, but also pretty annoying, since Osman and I both had to get up really early.

Catching Up!

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am back. I'm sorry not to have updated on the situation lately, but it's been a busy week! The important details: my ability to access funds has been restored, I am alive, and I have a working telephone. The longer story follows:

I believe we left off shortly after my arrival in London. So, I'll pick up beginning with leaving the disgusting hostel. I checked in, left my big bags in the luggage room, and set off for the British Museum. Naturally, I forgot to eat anything, so after a few hours of wandering aimlessly through everything in the museum, I started feeling a little off, and realized that I should probably obtain some sort of nourishment. So, away I went to Pret a Manger, the land of free wi-fi and relatively cheap coffee. I think I only ended up getting a banana, since I had a granola bar in my backpack, but I frittered away the next hour or so talking to my dad on Skype and trying to make some evening plans. After that, I only had an hour or so left to visit the British Library, where I saw some handwritten first drafts of Beatles' lyrics, the manuscript of Alice's Adventures Underground, some pages from Da Vinci's notebooks, and the Magna Carta, among other pieces of interest. I was trying to read the Latin in the Magna Carta on the big screen, but the style of writing is weird, so I couldn't make too much out, but a guy behind me asked, "Can you read Latin?" and when I replied in the affirmative, he just said, "GET OUT!" Clearly, he was very impressed with my intellectual powers. The museum closed before I could see their "Maps as Propaganda" exhibit, so maybe I will go back, because it sounded very interesting.

After that, I stopped at Tesco to pick up pasta, and stuff to make a meat sauce, and then went back to the hostel, where it turned out, there was no kitchen. So I went back to Tesco to return the meat and other perishable stuff, keeping the rest, and figuring it would come in handy later. This, my friends, is where I continue to learn that nothing is perfect. So the beds were a little more comfortable, the lockers were larger and more free, and the rooms smelled nice, but you had to buy their crappy food if you wanted to eat in the hostel. When I returned the stuff I had gotten, I picked up a sandwich and ate that. They give you a buy one get one free drink coupon, so I went down to the hostel bar for happy hour to see if I couldn't make some friends. I ended up talking to a few Australians, and getting into a passionate conversation about Tim Horton's and hockey with more Canadians. I got bored of the Australians, and decided to go to bed. I went in, fully expecting my 3 German roommates to still be out on the town, as it was hardly past midnight, and felt really awful when I probably woke them up by opening the door. Oops.

Monday was the Notting Hill Gate Carnival, which occurs every August Bank Holiday, and as far as I can tell, is an excuse for Londoners to get really hammered in the middle of the day. I didn't even know it existed, but it's apparently the 2nd biggest street festival in Europe. I met up with a bunch of Couch Surfers at a pub nearby (of course, after getting lost for a while first), and met some really nice folks. We decided to go get some grub before heading into the Carnival, and ended up at a place that advertised its "Spicy, Sexy Chicken." I got a lot of mileage making jokes about that. We lost a few of our number upon entering the sheer mass of people that was the Carnival, but they were all found by the end of the day, so no worries. The Carnival consisted of a very disorganized parade, each "float" being a group of people in either very cool or very skimpy costumes. I'm pretty sure all the performers were ragingly drunk. Imagine the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade if all of the balloon handlers were quite tipsy... it was pretty hilarious.

When I got back to the hostel, I was so tired, as we had been walking all day, that all I did was pack up everything and make sure my backpack was ready to take on the plane the next day. I woke up, had breakfast, and went to drop my stuff off in one of my dad's old colleague's office at the Canadian High Commission. Silly me, thinking that since it was a prearranged action, I would have no troubles. I got to the building, and the security guard was giving me the stink eye, and I'm pretty sure he didn't believe that I was there for a legitimate cause. When I checked in at reception, the security guy inside asked what I was planning to do with the luggage. I was trying to explain that my dad's friend had said I could leave it in her office, and he wasn't buying it. They don't let luggage past the lobby. OF COURSE THEY DON'T! So, here is where I started to have a little bit of a panic attack. Thankfully, the guy I was supposed to meet came down then, checked with higher up security, and told me I should go catch my flight, he'd take care of the stuff. He was very nice, which was very helpful to my state of panic.

I got to the airport, got on the plane, and got to Denmark. The flight from London is so short! I dozed off for a few minutes, and we were already landing. My first impression of the airport was that I had walked into a very expensive hotel lobby or furniture store. Everything is so nice in Copenhagen! I went through passport control, and the guy just looked at my passport, said "Welcome to Copenhagen, I see you haven't been to Denmark before! I hope you enjoy it!" He didn't ask any questions, or anything. SO CRAZY after UK passport control. The Danes are nice people.

So, it turns out that the international SIM is not helpful outside of the UK, and the T-Mobile guy was wrong, but that's ok because I had 10 pounds on the card which has been plenty, even though rates are extortionate. It was pretty bad though, because texting wasn't working, then finally it was, but my host couldn't send me texts or call me. Very strange. I was freaking out until I finally got a hold of my host at 31 pence/minute, but he picked up so it was all good.

But, anyway, the first night I was in Copenhagen, Johan (my host) and I talked about education in our respective countries, and music, and what we study until his girlfriend, Marie, got home from school. Then we went to the market to buy stuff for dinner and watched a documentary about Cairo and its trash problem, which was very interesting. Johan was kind enough to translate during the entire thing!

The next day, another couch surfer was coming, and she and Johan were possibly going to meet me in the city center in the afternoon- this is where the phone problems were actually a problem. I went to the Nationalmuseet, which is their National Museum. I learned a lot about Denmark. They had a cool "stories of life" exhibit, which just had a lot of odds and ends and stories about culture. I walked all across Copenhagen and soaked it all in. I ended the day by people-watching in the King's Gardens. When I got back, I was pretty exhausted from walking all day, so I didn't go out again, I just hung out with Marie for a while and then the next couch surfer, Alice, when she showed up.

On my last day in Copenhagen, we got yet another CouchSurfer in the apartment, which is a testament to how awesome Johan and Marie are, that they were willing to have 3 people in their verrrry small apartment! In the morning, we walked around the Norrebro neighborhood where Johan and Marie live, and saw H.C. Andersen's grave in a big cemetery that is used mostly as park space! It was strange to see kids running around in a graveyard... After that we met up with some CSers from Australia, whom Johan and Marie had had to turn down because 6 surfers in their apartment would not have worked at all, and then Johan took us on a tour of Christiania, the free city. His mom had lived there for 10 years ish, and his uncle was well known as a maker of a special type of bicycle for tall people, so he knew a lot about Christiania, and made for a good tour guide. We lost him though, because he had to meet with a woman at a venue where he books shows, but then he couldn't call/text me so I texted him saying we'd meet back at his place, and everything worked out. Marie had gone to her parents' for the night, so the remaining seven of us, and one of Johan's friends cooked dinner: roasted veggies, sweet potato fries, and pasta. It was really fun, and by the end of the night, it felt like we had all known each other for years.

I was sad to go in the morning, but excited to move on to a new adventure. Being unfamiliar with how trains work, I showed up way early for my train. When I got on, I was excited to see how lovely trains are in Europe. My 2nd class seat (in the quiet compartment... no screaming children FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE!), was about a thousand times nicer than any plane in which I have ever flown. There was nobody sitting across from me for most of the journey, so I was stretched out to my heart's content. Unfortunately, I didn't get the window seat, so I don't have a lot of pictures of the very charming Swedish countryside! Also, Swedish customs was funny... the guys were very tough sounding/looking in their actions, but they didn't even check my passport (what!?). By the end of the journey, the train was moving really fast, and looking out the window was making me a little dizzy, so it was probably a good thing I didn't have the window, after all.

When I got to Stockholm, I was immediately overwhelmed. I had no idea where to go or what to do, since my CS host would not be able to meet me for 5 hours. I started by getting some kronor, and turning that into change to put my backpack in a locker and be able to pay to potty. Then, I walked in the direction of Gamla Stan, the old town island. As I was walking, the wind picked up, and it got very cold, and started pouring. Disheartened, and lacking an umbrella, as well as having stupidly locked my hat and mittens into the locker, I figured I better do something about the situation, and popped into the nearest H&M, conveniently located about a block away, and bought a scarf and a hat for approximately 14 dollars. H&M in Scandinavia is like Starbucks or Walgreen's in the US. I'm serious. I feel like anywhere you stand, there are at least 5 within a mile of you. Anyway, I felt a little more fashionable (Stockholm and Copenhagen are INTIMIDATING fashionwise...) now that I had a scarf on, and decided to try Gamla Stan Take 2. This was a good idea. The sun came out, and as I walked around, I found a mob of people outside the big old church. Somebody who was apparently very rich, judging by the two Rolls Royce's outside, was getting married, so I waited with the crowd until the bride emerged in a storybook wedding dress.

Moving on, I walked all around the island, watched some people, and had some coffee. The time came to head to my host's apartment, so I retrieved my backpack, and took the T-bana. I was concerned I was walking in the wrong direction when I emerged from the station, but I kept going, and of course, it started pouring again. The street where his building is isn't actually labelled, so I had a fun time finding the place, but thankfully I did, and my host, Jonas, was kind enough to give me some tea and dinner. I met his roommate, Tuva, who actually went to school at Lawerence, so we talked about the upper midwest a bit. Jonas took me to a concert at a club, and we stayed until 2:30. Now, if you know me at all, you know that I like to go to bed early, so this was an extreme endeavor for me. My attempts (and subsequent failures) to set up the IKEA sofa bed were clearly enough to make Jonas question my intelligence.

On a side note, at the very same club where Jonas and I were attending a concert, Jordan Frisbee and Tatiana Mollman, the world champions of West Coast Swing, were hosting a workshop on the 2nd floor. I almost bailed on the concert... but I'm glad I didn't, because I had a ton of fun. There was an awesome girl band who opened for New Young Pony Club, and I decided that if I'm going to be the cool girl bassist in a band, I have to be more Swedish, because their bassist was the ultimate in CGBs.

I woke up super late today, but I high-tailed it out of here as soon as I was up. I thought about buying a Stockholm Card, but by the time I would have done anything, all the museums would nearly be closed, since they all closed at 4 or 5, and I left at 1. So, I wandered around Sodermalm, and people watched, and ate ice cream, and had a generally wonderful time. I decided to go to Djurgarden, where I saw another very fancy event happening at the Nordiska Museum, but I am not sure what it was. I walked around and enjoyed the nature-y surroundings on the island, and then headed back to Gamla Stan, where I had decided I would eat at a vegetarian buffet that looked pretty cool. I was starving, so I figured that would be the best and most delicious bang for my buck. It was SO GOOD, but here's the thing: I haven't been eating too much lately, so I ended up being unable to finish even one full plate, and now, 3 hours later, I am still uncomfortably full. I think that bodes well for my future eating habits, but I spent 100 kr (I will still say it was worth it, because it was delicious and I love vegetables, I was in dire need of something healthy, and that is only like $15).

I didn't want to go out tonight, so that I can actually manage to wake up tomorrow morning to go on the tour boats thing with Tuva and a friend of hers who is visiting. We're going to do the boats in the morning and shop in the afternoon (since things close at 4 on Sundays, we have to start very early!). So, Jonas left, while Tuva and I had some tea, and I wrote this massive update. I hate to be thinking about going to bed so early, and to not be out taking advantage of how fun Stockholm is (though it may sound like I was partying it up, last night, I'll have you know that last night I only consumed one (1) beer... it was around $7 and cocktails were twice as expensive... I can't afford to drink here... and don't feel like getting drunk at the club when travelling alone is a great idea.. but going out was really fun without drinking). I also am afraid I might be getting a cold or something, because my throat's been a bit sore today, so I'm hoping to sleep it off.

Okay, I am cold (Stockholm is SO COLD), so I'm gonna go wrap up in blankets and read for a while... it's been a week on the road, and I haven't really relaxed at all. Yesterday was actually the first time I slept through the night without waking up, so I think it's about time for some down time.

-C