A Whirlwind of Theatre Going

Last update I mentioned that we went to go see History Boys. Its a movie adapted from an award-winning play still being performed, and it was really good. One of the boys is played by Andrew Knott, who was Dickon in "The Secret Garden" ages and ages ago, so that was funny. This past week we've gone to the theatre a lot. Monday night we went to see The Alchemist, a play by Ben Jonson. It was difficult to follow, and I dozed off a few times throughout. I was impressed by their revolving set piece though. Tuesday we took a walking tour of Brixton, generally accepted as the neighborhood where black and South Asian immigrants lived from the 50s on. (This is relevant to our classes on the Windrush generation and contemporary immigration to Britain). Then we went to this Jamaican restaurant for some yummy jerk chicken and rice and beans.
Wednesday we didn't have class in order to work on one of our projects, so Nida (my roomate) and I went to Kensington Gardens, Picadilly Circus, and Waterloo Station, because these were all places mentioned in the book we just read, Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon. We liked Kensington Gardens so much that after class on Thursday, it being a nice day, we went back. It is full of giant birds. Ravens, pigeons, swans, you name it, they are larger than they should be. We found a nice little gelatto shop by the tube station across the street from the park, and they had exciting flavors like Irish Bailey's and Turkish Delight. Huzzah for turkish delight. We sat in the park for a while, chased some geese, chatted with a swan we named Fernando (we tried to get as close as possible without him biting us, so we could take pictures for scale), and had a grand old time. We had to be at a play called Bones that night, though, so we left earlier than we would have liked. However, most of our group got stuck waiting for the train that was supposed to take us to the play, and then we were a grand total of 4 minutes late and they wouldn't let us in. It was a really small theatre and you had to walk across the stage to get in, which is ridiculous. Anyway, instead, we decided to go see Marie Antionette and make fun of Kirsten Dunst. And let me tell you, there was a wealth of opportunity to make fun of every aspect of that movie. We kept bursting into laughter throughout, and spent the whole time on the way home talking about it, to the point one woman asked, "I have to know what movie you're talking about, I'll be sure not to see it." DON'T SEE THAT MOVIE. There are like, 5 lines during the whole 2.5 hour movie, and most of it is inane chatter like "Oh I do love those shoes" and "You simply must try this milk." The movie is much like Marie Antoinette's reign - expensive, extravagant, useless, and everyone hates it. If that is what the point was, its the only thing that makes sense. There is a lot about Marie not being able to get her husband to sleep with her, and a lot of her laying around eating sweets. Its total crap, and we were all hard pressed to think of a movie that was worse.
Friday we had to get up and go to a lecture on the Notting Hill Carnival, and afterward we went to Kew Gardens to get pumpkins. The gardens are huge and lots of fun. We tried to get in free by saying we were 17, but turns out its under 17 that get in free. We felt stupid. But, in the general spirit of not acting our age, we climbed a tree, played in the leaves, played Red Rover (which ended with Jamie knocked flat on the ground) and tag, rolled down hills, and got pumpkins. I also got the best chips in Kew, and it came wrapped in paper! Very authentic. That night we had to go to another play, this one called Caroline, Or Change, written by Tony Kushner. It was a musical, and it was quite good, although the lead's voice cracked once or twice, which no one but me and one other person seemed to notice.
Saturday we went to see a football match (read: soccer game). It was lots of fun, because although the teams we saw play haven't been doing too well (it was Fulham vs Wigan), the fans were insane. There are two American players on Fulham, including Brian McBride. It was exciting to see players that were in the World Cup. Wigan won by 1. When we got home we carved pumpkins and made two pumpkin pies. We had to use canned pumpkin puree because our kitchens are crap when it comes to supplies, and we didn't have a blender or potato masher or anything. We rolled the dough for the crust using the side of a wine bottle covered in saran wrap (known here as cling film). Since we didn't have pie plates, we used casserole dishes, and the middles of the pies were somewhat custard-like because they didn't cook through properly before buring on top. They were still really good, though, and we roasted the pumpkin seeds (both salty and sweet) and played card games all night.
Yesterday was sadly all work, since we are leaving this week right after class for our break, and we have a book to read and two essays to write before then.

No, I'm not dead

Reporting to you all, alive and well, contrary to popular belief. There isn't much to stay about life since we got back from our fun-packed trip to Cornwall. I had two papers due at the beginning of this week, so that was the majority of this past weekend. I went to go see Spamalot for a second time. I was going to go to Scotland this weekend, but we didn't get the right bus tickets in time and so just decided to go another time. Realizing that it takes forever to book tickets for anything, my friend Jamie, my roomate Nida, and I spent pretty much all of Thursday afternoon and evening booking our tickets and hostels for our break during 7th week. We are going to Barcelona, flying to Rome, taking a train to Venice for a day and returning to Rome, flying to Paris, and then flying back to London. We'll spend 3 nights in each place. We're really excited about it, but also kind of worried because we went with the cheapest things available, so the airports are far from cities and hostels aren't going to be the best. Apparently the hostel in Paris that we booked is in the super-sketch red light district, so we'll be looking for another one there. We've been sampling the nightlife here in London, and found the pub that all the University of London students go to, called the Court, which is really good and right off the Warren St. tube stop, so its easy to find. We went to this trendy bar that just opened, which I can't remember the name of, and two clubs, the SoHo Lounge and last night, Bar Rhumba. We were able to get the girls in for free at the SoHo Lounge, but we had to pay an 8 pound cover at Bar Rhumba. It was hiphop night, and its just really funny that most of the music they play in these places is American, and everyone sings along. They also play really old stuff just as much as today's music, which I like for nostalgic purposes if nothing else. Tonight we are going to see another movie, History Boys, which is a British comedy.

Supertrip!

This weekend we took a four day trip to Cornwall, Dartmoor, Wales, and Stonehenge. We left ridiculously early on Thursday morning and drove for about 5 hours to Cornwall to see Tintagel. Everyone was super excited for this, having had it advertised in the extreme by our excitable and lovable professor von Nolcken, and it totally lived up to all expectations. I think I took the most pictures here. There was a small village, replete with tiny gift shops and pubs selling Cornish pasties (pronounced like nasty), which are fabulous. Then there were trails and steps leading up to the ruins on the cliff. It was drizzling and overcast, and incredibly windy. When we got to the top and tip of the cliff, the wind was so strong we were half afraid of going off the edge, and we certainly scared our supervisors (and those who were legally responsible for us) by getting as close to the edge as we dared. When we had our fill of sea air and hiking up rocks, we went down into town for pasties and tea, before getting on the bus again to drive to a small town called St. Just in Penzance, where our hostel was. This one was run by a fat, jolly, Cornish couple who were very friendly. The girls were all on the second floor in rooms of 6 (3 bunks) and we had a view of the ocean from our window (albeit much shrouded with mist) and we only had one shower between the 12 of us, which was essentially a closet, which meant that your clothes got wet on the pegs. The nice thing was that the hot water was both abundant and adjustable (not scalding). For dinner (each of our meals we had several choices, which we made the day before - which is suprisingly hard to do) I had ham and pineapple pizza with chips and salad, and we all chose apple crumble with custard ice cream, which was amazing. Long live the crumble! We all trooped into town to visit the three pubs, hiking with flashlights through fields to get there. Naturally, it was a local crowd, and as we passed, they were like "Youth hostel." No one was mean, though, and in the last pub we all wound up congregating in, there was a dog (a West Highland terrier!) and very fat cat and a nice old Cornish man with massive glasses and a round tummy who tried to confuse us by making his accent heavier. We went to bed, woke up really early again for an English breakfast, which consists of toast, baked beans, hash browns, eggs, and what we know as Canadian bacon. And tea, of course. We walked down to the sea very briefly, crunching on giant slugs everywhere (this happened at night in the dark as well). These slugs were like 6 inches each. We got back and hauled our luggage back down to the bus (it couldn't make it up the narrow road to the hostel, so we had about a 10 min walk to and from).
Next, we drove to St. Michael's Mount. This is a former abbey turned fortress turned castle home that is on an island that has a path from the mainland exposed when the tide is low. It is amazing, and the family who owns it still lives part of the year in the newer wing (which we of course did not see). Our guide through the castles was an amusing fellow who went briskly about his business and let you take your time in the room after giving a brief but interesting history. It has amazing gardens with all these tropical flowers and Italian trees (in Penzance there are many palm trees, which is confusing) that is meant to be viewed from above. Their restaurant at the foot of the island had really good pasties. Mmm. And I bought a Cornish cookbook with a pasty recipe in it that I am going to attempt. We had our packed lunches on the island/mount, mine which was ham and butter. The English have an irritating obsession with mayonnaise on everything but sandwiches, which they instead slather in butter, something Americans consider a grave transgression. Even when we were given choices like "ham, cheese and pickle, peanut butter, jelly" some of us (like me) checked two boxes, hoping to wind up with a ham and cheese sandwich or a pb&j. However, this only resulted in two sandwiches for each of us - one with (grated!) cheese, Branston pickle spread, and butter, and one with ham and butter, or one with jelly and butter, and (horror of all horrors) peanut butter and butter! Like, peanut butter is butter made from peanuts, you don't need more butter!!! But on the good side, there were crisps (though only salt and vinegar flavored on the last day) and home baked goods, like brownies.
After St. Michael's Mount (which closed down early due to strong gales), we drove to Okehampton "on" Dartmoor, where we had a little over an hour to hike the moor before dinner. It was a rainy, muddy hike through sheep fields and over fences, but it was truly worth even the shoes being wet for the next day. We got really close to the sheep and up on top of this hill where we could look out over the moors. The wind was whipping around us and the rain was soaking us through in a light rain made into a downpour by the wind, and it was right out of Wuthering Heights (minus the fact they were slightly different moors, but you get the idea). While we were up there, we saw a herd of Shetland ponies, which let us get really close and then suddenly bolted away, leaving us to sadly pick our way down the hill, sliding through mud and sheep droppings. Then our fearless leaders treated us to hot chocolate and tea. At dinner, I had a steak pie, chips, peas, and I gave fried cod (the fish side of fish and chips) a try, but it was nasty. For dessert there was a bread pudding with ice cream or custard. Several of us headed down to the town to a pub, and we stayed there for a good while, playing darts and fighting with the guitarist. I had to get other people to buy me drinks because I was carded, and since I'm 21 and the drinking age is 18, I didn't even think to bring my ID. I was just so shocked because even before I was 21 people have always thought I was older than I am. It was weird.
doors, so we left the pub and came home for showers, which consisted of more closets with luWe had to get back to the hostel before 11 since they lock thekewarm water that was the only temperature that you kept having to press to turn on again. We hung out in the common room and played silly camp games like Concentration, which I apparently suck at, until we finally had to go to sleep or die. I was in the top bunk, and it had some loose screws or something, because everytime I moved, the whole thing shook and make a lot of noise, so I got little sleep for fear of breaking the bunk and crushing the person below me. Also, I had to fold my pillow into 4ths in order to get a decent cushion out of it. Oh, and all the hostels have ready-made beds (with no topsheet), but they have a sewn sheet thing that you can put your pillow inside and slide it in between the covers for a little sleeping sheet bag, which you then toss in the laundry as you leave. Showers are in the hall, but the first two places we went to also had a sink in the room, which was convenient for communal teeth brushing.
Anyway, early up the next morning of course, breakfast of Rice Crispies, toast, oj, cooked tomato, and sausage. We had to bring our bags into the dining room with us, which was obnoxious. Here I also picked up little individual packs of Marmite. I don't plan on trying them myself.
Off we were again to Glastonbury. My shoes were still wet from the trek over the moors, my slippers were still wet from the shower closet, so I borrowed someone's flip flops and tried (and failed) to have my shoes dry before we got there. At Glastonbury Abbey, we walked around, Jamie and I lay in Arthur and Guenevere's supposed tomb site, and we picked apples from their orchard. After about an hour at the abbey, with truly terrible audio guides (in 15th century monk mode) which I gave up on after about 10 min, we walked through the town and up the Tor. The hike up the Tor is a killer; not only is it steep and high, but every 5 steps you have to skirt round cow pies, which are everywhere! On the top there is of course the tower, a fortune teller, and a hippie flag dancer. We sat there, ate our lunches (grimacing at the butter) and admired the view. We went down the side of the Tor without the paved path, lead by our coordinators, Miia and Chantal, two fearless and sporty European women. The "path" lead us down slippery steep slopes and over and through cow fields, much to the chagrin of us city folk, who spoke longingly of exhaust fumes and asphalt and ambulance sirens. We ran to the buses, pausing to comment on the smell of pot, the sight of a woman rolling a joint in some kind of contraption , stores for crystals and psychic pigs, and signs saying "Don't Panic! It's Organic!"
From Glastonbury we went to Wales, and visited the Roman ruins in Caerleon. They have old barracks and an ampitheatre. There is also this strange alley that our tour guide showed us, with many weird wooden scultures, mostly with a King Arthur theme. There was a small museum of Roman artifacts found on the sites, but it was too small and we left after about 10 min. Everyone more or less left separately, but since we had about 30 min to kill, everyone wound up at the only open cafe down the road, which is funny. It was tea time, and while we don't quite hold with butter on sandwiches, I think that almost everyone who came on this trip before was already a tea drinker, and so tea time is often observed.
From Caerleon, we went deeper into Wales to Danywenallt, which is on a reservoir and surrounded by sheep farms. We actually got lost trying to find it, because the road we were originally supposed to take lead us over a bridge that couldn't support the bus's weight. But we finally made it in time to freshen up and chase sheep before supper. Literally. Three of our five boys gave us a good laugh by herding the sheep that were in the field right outside the youth hostel. One of the guys who was cleaning up after dinner overheard us talking about it and laughed at us, commenting that it was a particularly Welsh activity.
After dinner we took a night walk around the reservoir, without flashlights (there was a full moon, which was still pretty bright even covered in clouds as it was), which of course provoked many a speculation about serial killers and such, which in turn resulted in half-hearted attempts to sneak up on people. We turned back the moment the path turned from pavement to mud, and went to bed.
Next morning I had a chocolate filled croissant as part of my continental breakfast, and it was sooo good. (Oh, dinner the night before was bangers and mash - people say British food is dull and tasteless, but this I have not found; they may have strange notions regarding butter and mayo, but they know how to cook a yummy filling meal). This youth hostel was a sort of lodge, and the dining room had high ceilings and a little old fashioned stove in the corner which was nice and toasty. We unfortunately shared the hostel with a group of schoolchildren, who came in for their breakfast as we were finishing ours.
Once we had left the hostel, we drove to Tintern Abbey, which I must say had the best audio guide overall. It was actually helpful with both directions and not too detailed with descriptions, and had very little of the ridiculous audio reinactments most of them have. Tintern Abbey is, I think, much more interesting and evocative than Glastonbury Abbey. Maybe it's also the setting, in the middle of forested Welsh mountains dotted with fields of sheep. After Tintern, we were for Stonehenge, by far the most disappointing part of the trip. Perhaps it would have been exciting if it hadn't been turned into a tourist trap, complete with gift shop and snack bar, and swarming with giant tour buses of German and Japanese middle to old aged people, or if you could actually walk up to the stones, rather than relying on your audio guide and a view from behind a surrounding rope.
And then we returned to London, and I did more laundry to try and get the mud out of my jeans. And now I have to go bc my roomate is already in bed and I'm probably really annoying with all my typing.

Not really an apology...

Ok, so I realize the previous post was a bit harsh (what with witches and all), but honestly the woman was horrible and very off-putting. Donate to the museum! http://www.24hourmuseum.org.uk/museum_gfx_en/AM9814.html

An uneventful few days...minus the witch.

Sunday we went to St Paul's cathedral for the Anglican mass, which was pretty pretty, right under the dome, with chorus boys and the whole shebang. The funny thing is, though, is that is essentially the Catholic mass, bar a few changed phrases and no kneeling, but more standing. I expected it to be changed a bit more, and was even a bit disappointed. I wanted a new experience and all. It was raining when we got out, so we hid on the covered part of the steps and ate our Marks and Spencer sandwiches, and decided to postpone our trip to Greenwich due to rain. Several of us headed home, promptly changed into pjs, and watched TV the rest of the day. We did get dressed to go see Children of Men, which I thought was very good but it was sad bc Julianne Moore was only in it for like, 10 min. And then I went to go meet ROBERT HUFFAKER for a drink at a pub at tube stop between us. It was crazy seeing him (we went to Keystone together, I was a freshman and he was a sophomore, and he left randomly in the middle of the year bc his parents divorced and he moved with his mom to the Netherlands, and now goes to school in London) and we had a good time catching up on the past 6 years (yikes!) and reminiscing about things like West Side Story.
Class yesterday was of course great, bc we were provided with ever more material for our Christina impressions. Oh, and learning about King Arthur is cool, too. Before class I went with my roomate to discover the University of London's library and get a few books for class we were unaware we needed until last week, and then we read in a park until class. After class we all went to the White Hart, apparently the oldest pub, for "linner" (not exactly tea bc we ate food food). We had tickets to go see Canterbury Tales Pt 1, but the map I looked at directed us to the wrong tube station, so we were running around central London to find this theatre and finally had to take a cab to get there. We were about 10 min late, but they still let us in, which was good. It was funny, but we were mooned not once, but twice. It was quite disturbing, because we assumed there ought to be leotards or something. But no, there they were, bare asses. Oh well. Eventually I'll recover from the emotional scarring.
Today after class we did lunch, and then part of the class went to the East End for a tour with one Prof Bill Fishman, who apparently is a historian in high demand. We met him on the street, and suddenly this guy shoves his way into our group, interrupts the professor, and says "Professor Fishman! My name is so & so and I'm here to interview you. This here is Vidal Sassoon!" and he drags this overtanned and dapper oldish man (I say oldish bc Prof Fishman is like, 80, and this guy was 60ish) to shake hands with him. Meanwhile, about four guys with cameras are physically moving us out of the way to get their cameras into the action. It was incredibly rude and intrusive, and I was really pissed off, but Prof Fishman was very courteous and was like, "I'm giving these students here a tour, maybe if you scheduled a time to come by?" Anyway, they finally left, and we started our tour. It a very strange experience, with the professor telling all the girls that they wouldn't get married if they didn't know history, reminiscing about how he marched against the fascists in the 30s (admittedly, a very good story), and telling us that Jack the Ripper's first victim was last seen in the same alley (Angel Alley?) that the anarchist bookshop was. Along the way, he passed some of his neighbors and began speaking in Arabic to them, which was kinda cool. He showed us Toynbee Hall, where Jane Addams stayed for a while before starting Hull House in Chicago, which was based on Toynbee. It was the first place that social studies were, well, studied. Lets say observed to be less redundant. After a lecture there, he brought us to the museum we were seeing, the Immigration Museum. This is off Brick Lane, a big street full of cheap Bengali restaurants (aka heaven).
Not a museum, really, but a dilapidated old house literally falling apart, in a residential area, with no markings whatsoever but a plain brown door like any other on the street and number 19 on the side. We arrive 5 minutes before we are supposed to, and naturally stand outside, talking. This woman comes out the door, and the first thing she says is "Shhhhhhhhhhh!!!! This is a residential area, and you're sitting on someone's doorstep!!!!" This while movers are shouting at each other and banging around in a truck less than three steps away. Then she sees that not all of use are here (because its impossible to find for those who were not in this weeks tour), and tells us to wait on the other side of the street. No reason, really. Just to be rude, I suppose. She was really good at that. We are finally ushered in after it begins to rain, where she begins to have her slaves (two women who were actually nice but did everything she said and were clearly as intimidated as we were) take our bags from us (not asking us to leave them at the door, just taking them). Then, since I'm at the front by some cruel twist of fate, she pulls me over to the visitors log and forces me to sign it. Its just signatures, not printed and legible names, so I felt like I was signing a contract unknowingly. Like, the devils contract. yes, I have just now decided she must have been a witch. Clearly there is no other explaination.
Then we are told to look at the "exhibit" in clockwise order. The "exhibit" is a series of stacks of old suitcases with little things made by schoolchildren (likely at the 2nd grade level and lower) supposed to envoke the feeling of the immmigrants. The main floor had a "diary" of a French Hugenot girl, written in English with a purple ballpoint pen, and a tiny suitcase of potatoes shooting sprouts every which way but with writing on it in Crayola finger paint "No food!" and other cheesy things to represent the Irish immigrants. There was a silent video of these kids acting out the potato famine. It was hilarious, which is clearly oughtn't have been. Down in the basement, there were brief exhibits on all the other immigrants within the past 100 years or so. Upstairs, there was an exhibit by adults.
Now, don't get me wrong, the woman was insane (I've already had an anxiety attack just remembering how scary and insistent she was, so I won't continue the story for the sake of my heart, but if you want to know more, ask about the luggage tags) and the exhibits made you giggly rather than pensive, but the building was actually cool. Originally a house, it had an addition made from the garden when the Hugenots were there, which later became a synagoge when the Jews were there, etc etc, and they are trying to raise money to preserve it but not restore it, bc they want to leave all the marks of ppl who were there. Very cool building, good cause, but rabidly avid people who scare you away rather than make you want to donate and help them out. Like, the woman tried to force postcards down our throat. "Don't you donate to museums in America?" and later, as we were preparing to escape, "Its common to say goodbye in Britain, is that not done in America?" Not when you are trying to escape after being stuck for two hours in a collapsing building with a witch! Gah!
Indian food for dinner, delays on the tube, too late to do my reading for tomorrow. The end.