I will let the evidence speak for itself. I have found my dorm, unpacked, figured out how to get on the Internet, acquired a British cell phone and a cell phone plan, gotten a bike, bought some miscellaneous items for my room, and met a ridiculous amount of new people. I know, right?! I'll sign autographs later.
In all seriousness though, the transition here has been much smoother than I could've imagined to this point. Granted, I had anticipated it to be easier than moving to Beijing, where everyone spoke a completely foreign language, or India, where cultural differences and accents made it seem like everyone did, but I had still expected a fair amount of hoopla to ensue when I got here. In the scheme of things, however, Britain has been surprisingly kind to me to this point.
That is not to say that there have not been several funny moments. I always tell people that the very first thing you should pack when you go abroad is your sense of humor, and you should always be prepared to turn it on yourself. For example, imagine the scene all of we Rhodies made when we first stumbled out of Heathrow, lugging ungodly amounts of baggage and blinking from disorientation brought on by actual sunlight and lack of sleep. Luckily for us, a porter from the Rhodes House named Bob was there to pick us up, and ordered us about in a brusque, British way that was both endearing and surprisingly effective. We all loaded up our bags into a separate Uhaul in order of our colleges, so that we could be let off at various points around Oxford.
Although I had been proud of myself for reducing my bags down to one hiking backpack, a rolling carryon, and a small backpack, I was cursing every single extra thing I'd thrown into my bag as I lugged it up the two flights of stairs to my dorm room. I had fretted about how far away my housing looked, but when I actually arrived at the St. Cross Annexe, it was surprisingly close to the Rhodes House, Brasenose's main campus, and the center of town. Then again, I have learned over these past few days that pretty much everything in Oxford is much closer than you'd imagine it would be. My dorm was built in the 1990's, but it's still actually quite beautiful, and (I think) integrates fairly well with the stone architecture of the rest of Oxford.
My room is currently still far too messy and undecorated to post a picture, but I will give you a sneak peek of the quintessentially British scene that I can look at every day while I'm at my desk. I mean really, doesn't this make you think of Jane Eyre?
My room is currently still far too messy and undecorated to post a picture, but I will give you a sneak peek of the quintessentially British scene that I can look at every day while I'm at my desk. I mean really, doesn't this make you think of Jane Eyre?
Okay, enough of my dorm. Honestly, I've had very little time to spend there myself! I only took about ten minutes to toss everything down and change clothes initially, and then I was off to run errands. And ohhhh, the errands I ran. From Rhodes House to Brasenose to cell phone stores to banks and back, I crisscrossed Oxford, trying my best to learn the streets as I power-walked them. I took one 45 minute break to take a small nap, which breaks one of my cardinal travel rules (that is, do not sleep during the day in the first few weeks in a new place), because I hadn't slept a second on the plane the night before. But then I was back up and at 'em, off to a dinner and a bonfire the older Rhodes Scholars had planned for us to meet and mingle (and, I suspect, to keep people awake for longer).
Dinner was my first experience with a real, live British pub. And I loved it! It was loud and hot and terribly decorated, and the ceiling was so low that I had to duck when walking through doors and stay on my guard fairly constantly the rest of the time. But the conversation was good and the beer/cider selection wide, and I even got some delicious salmon thrown in the mix, so I had a blast. A word about British pub life: I'm fascinated by the range of alcohol they have here! There are ciders that are sickly sweet, like the ones I don't particularly like in America, and then there are also delicious dry ones like Stella Cidre and a pear type I sampled at the Jericho Arms on Thursday. And British beers, although primarily plain old ales or lagers, come in an amazing range of local brews, with a decent foreign beer selection sprinkled in as well. And although the pound is a disadvantage for sure, the prices have seemed fairly reasonable to me thus far (but bear in mind that I was beaten down by DC bar price pricegouging all summer).
Dinner was my first experience with a real, live British pub. And I loved it! It was loud and hot and terribly decorated, and the ceiling was so low that I had to duck when walking through doors and stay on my guard fairly constantly the rest of the time. But the conversation was good and the beer/cider selection wide, and I even got some delicious salmon thrown in the mix, so I had a blast. A word about British pub life: I'm fascinated by the range of alcohol they have here! There are ciders that are sickly sweet, like the ones I don't particularly like in America, and then there are also delicious dry ones like Stella Cidre and a pear type I sampled at the Jericho Arms on Thursday. And British beers, although primarily plain old ales or lagers, come in an amazing range of local brews, with a decent foreign beer selection sprinkled in as well. And although the pound is a disadvantage for sure, the prices have seemed fairly reasonable to me thus far (but bear in mind that I was beaten down by DC bar price pricegouging all summer).
After everyone finished up dinner and their last pints, we moved as a horde to the site of our next activity, a bonfire. Bonfires are quite a thing in the South, so imagine my
surprise at the discomfort of many of my classmates when our after-dinner
activity took us through one of the common green areas of Oxford to a field
with a large fire. There were horses calmly grazing around the periphery, which
I found beautiful, but a fairly large contingent of my peers (especially the
ones who’d grown up in urban areas) confessed to being very afraid of horses,
which led to a lot of squealing and other fun.
Given that I’d only slept 45 minutes in the last 36 hours or
so, I was quite exhausted, and more than happy to head home around midnight.
Luckily, we’d managed to get all the way across Oxford from my dorm, so walking
home was quite a production! By the time I’d hit my bed, I was absolutely
exhausted.
The next morning was a study in the ineptitude of 21st
century twentysomethings deprived of technology. When I finally got my wifi to
work to check my email at around 10:30, I found out that I’d missed a
breakfast, a group trip to the store, and had also apparently left a large
group of my friends standing outside my dorm looking for me for quite some
time. Although I’d originally been on the fence about getting a cell phone
right away, since I was still foggy on the relative strengths and shortcomings
of the various providers and devices here, that incident pretty well swayed me
to jump into a contract.
But first, I had to find Joe and Kiley, who were the ones
most intent on getting their cell phones ironed out, and had done significantly
more research to date than I had. Given my isolation from all modern
communication, I had to go the old fashioned route, wandering about the streets
until I finally spotted Joe’s (rather large) shaved head over the crown of
Cornmarket, the busiest shopping street in the city center. Joe and Kiley are
both in the Army, and perhaps the only two other Rhodies who rival me for Type
A-ness, so everything fell into place once we were all together. In short
order, we located cell phones (and did pretty well, with smart phones and data
plans for about 15 bucks a month, thank you very much!), got lunch, and put
down deposits on some bikes across town. The rest of the day was devoted
unpacking and reading over the ridiculous amount of materials I’d been given by
my college, the Rhodes House, my department, and the University….one of the
things I’ve learned is that centralization (like personal space) seems to be a
very American concept. In the evening, I met a group of my classmates at one of
the most famous pubs in Oxford, called the King’s Arms. Just to give you a
visual of what a classic old British pub looks like (and confirm that all of
your stereotypical mental images from movies are actually very true), see the
following picture:
Saturday was our formal introduction to Rhodes House and all
of the other Scholars. Now, to this point, I’d only met the 31 other American
Scholars, and the various foreign ones who had managed to finagle their way
into our BVW weekend in DC. I’d just begun to feel confident in my knowledge of
everyone’s names, backgrounds, colleges, and programs at Oxford. So imagine my
surprise when we arrived on Saturday morning to meet the 50+ other Scholars
from our year, the 83 in the year above us, and the 30-odd 3rd year
Scholars who’d elected to stay another year in Oxford to receive DPhils (the
British name for PhDs). Just when my voice was starting to tentatively return
after the cocktail parties of DC, it was sent right back out the door by
discussions with Canadian, South African, Australian, Indian, and other various
Scholars. It was undoubtedly overwhelming, but also amazing to see how much we all
had in common and how excited we were across the board to be in Oxford….which
was also fairly universally associated with a healthy dose of disorientation
given our abrupt immersion into British university life.
One great victory I should mention that day was in the
charity sale that took place in the afternoon to benefit the Rhodes Scholars
South African Forum (RSSAF). They ask the older Scholars to donate items they
don’t use anymore, and then sell them to the incoming Rhodies at steeply
discounted prices. Since Kiley and Joe are both moving into unfurnished
kitchens, and I plan on cooking at their places quite often, we all chipped in
and bought an amazing amount of plates, glasses, cookware, and other kitchen
accessories…for a total of 30 pounds! Mom, you should be proud of my bargain
hunting skills J
Saturday night allowed us to take off our stuffy business
clothes and re-meet everyone in our normal casual college student personas at a
meet n’ mingle event at the Rhodes House. That was followed by some cultural
exchanges in some of Oxford’s pubs, and finally some dancing at one of the most
famous clubs here, called Maxwell’s. If meeting everyone in Rhodes House had
been fun, seeing everyone relaxed and actually enjoying themselves was a blast.
I had an extensive conversation with the Aussie contingent about my Lilly
Pulitzer koozie, which I’ve been known to carry in my purse, and found out that
such devices are called “stubbie holders” in Australia. Who knew? I also
chatted with two of the Canadian women, one of whom had played rugby and one
who’d played soccer in college, and we decided that the tall, athletic girls of
Rhodes House have to stick together!
It was a late night, so getting out of bed in the morning to
catch an early bus for another Rhodes activity was admittedly a struggle. But
given that it was a trip to Windsor Castle, the most famous British castle and
also the longest-inhabited residence in the world (having been lived in
continuously since the 11th century, in case you were wondering), I
gave myself a pep talk and found my way to the bus promptly, where an hour nap
left me feeling much refreshed by the time we were able to walk the grounds. The
castle is rambling due to the many additions across the centuries, and has
beautifully manicured grounds. In addition, we’d been blessed with what was
probably the most beautiful October day Oxford has had in years. To prove my
point, check out the following (completely un-photoshopped) picture of St.
George’s Cathedral, which is on the grounds of the castle and has been/is the
site of many important royal events.
We were also able to walk through the State Apartments,
because none of the royal family was in residence. We weren’t technically
allowed to take pictures (although I snuck some of course, which will eventually be on
Facebook), but even my camera did little to capture the amazing architecture
and huge volume of priceless artwork the living quarters held. Our tour guide
told us that the Castle has the largest collection of original da Vincis in the
world….although at a paltry 600+, it can’t be that much above anywhere else! Just kidding. Let’s just say that by the end of it, my neck was sore from craning to look at
the high and frescoed ceilings, and my eyes were exhausted from taking in all
of the gold leaf.
Now it’s Monday, and I’m gearing up for the start of my
academic program tomorrow. I’ve many last minute errands to run, but I do want
to pass along a few details of the less-than-obvious things about living in
England that I’ve begun to pick up. Although most Americans know that British
English calls trucks “lorries”, bathrooms “Water Closets”, and French fries “chips”,
there are a surprising number of vocabulary that I think you can only pick up
from being here. Luckily for you, I’ll save you a lot of money on plane tickets
and tell you the definitions I have learned thus far:
-Aubergine (n)- eggplant
-Rocket (n)- argula (particularly confusing if you see a “Rocket
Sandwich” on a menu)
-Flujab (n)- Flu shot
-Humped Zebra (n)- raised crosswalk. NO LIE. There are actual
signs here that say “caution: humped zebra”, but I haven’t gotten the chance to
snag a picture of one yet.
-Pants (n) - underpants. NOT to be confused with
-Trousers (n)- pants. This can get super awkward, super quickly.
-Cheers (exclamation) - Thanks, you're welcome, and pretty much every other pleasantry, all rolled into one.
-Salad (n)- lettuce for sandwiches. Chicken salad, tuna salad, and egg salad are referred to as "chicken mayonnaise, tuna mayonnaise, and egg mayonnaise". Maybe more direct than Americans want to be.
More to come as I have more awkward, funny encounters. Cheers!
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