Culture Shock

The first few days here, I counted every minute. I was literally recapping myself as often as possible: "Okay, an hour ago, I was sitting on C.S. Lewis' favorite bar stool.  A day ago, I was getting a tour of the library that holds every book that has been published in England since the 1700's.  A week ago, I was reading Harry Potter in Maryland, completely incapable of guessing how amazing all of this would be ... "

Now that tutorials have started and I've turned in my first essay, I have been inherently thinking that living here is easy. That I know things.

And then something unexpected happens. I turn down the wrong street, or I hand a cashier the wrong coin. I check out a giant novel that I need to read in forty eight hours, only to get home and find out it's written in French. I lock myself out of my college's private library in twenty degree weather. I still forget to flip the switch for hot water in the shower.

The first week it was exciting, but now it's exhausting.  After surviving freshman year of college, we are used to feeling like pros. We're used to schedules and libraries that let us drink coffee while we read and stores that stay open past four o'clock. We never expected that we wouldn't be able to own a T.V. or ask for oregano in stores because we pronounce it incorrectly (or-ee-gah-no). The minor differences here add up to some pretty big frustrations, but we have to adapt.

Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. In, fact, I'm grateful because I know that it means I am one step closer to actually maybe sort of fitting in here.

Plus, at the end of the day when I just want to break down and sob (okay, maybe I sobbed a little on my way home today, but, no, I don't think anyone noticed so it doesn't count), I get to come back to 3 Ferry Hinksey and compare horror stories with my flatmates. By then, pulling all those obviously labeled PUSH doors and trying to pay for your Starbucks with an American debit card is just funny.

Thank goodness.

Tripping on Cobblestones

First, another tour via some pictures I took my first (and pretty much only sunny) day of exploring, which was one week/a thousand years ago:

A view of the Thames, which I pass every time I walk down Botley Road into the City Centre.

A look down Broad Street along Temple College. You can see theSheldonian Theatre where I will be singing Brahm's Requiem with the Oxford University choir in March!

This has nothing to do with my education. I just really like it.

The theatre again and some of my classmates. Just kidding, it's a Japanese tour group.

"DO NOT BRING GOATS INTO THE LIBRARY!"

I found this before I found my college.

When someone told me that this is called "The Bridge of Sighs," I got a little concerned. I'd like to think the sighs are more relief driven, though. The walk to Hertford can be crummy in the rain.

There's a handprint on one of the walls of my college!

This is the Radcliffe Camera. Why "Camera?" Probably because people take so many pictures of it. The inside is full of books. English books! That I read!

Lil bit o' irony.

This is where I go to school now. I even have a key that opens that big wooden door.

Bodleian Library! Where dreams come true!

Down this street live all my academic hopes and dreams. And a cat named Simpkins III. He lives in my college. We are friends.

This is the science college and their scary dead tree exhibit. I really don't pass by here much.

I ate lunch here and saw a whole bunch of dogs in sweaters.

This doesn't fit. At all.

Now this is pretty Oxford. We saw it on the way to "The Ballroom" which is a consignment shop that lets you rent tuxes and ball gowns! Just keep walking down High Street until you get to the circle. You'll know what I mean.

How To Avoid Making A Fool Of Yourself At An Oxford University Welcome Dinner

Find the Perfect Outfit: If you are a boy, a tux is a must. If you are a girl, you better find a dress that looks good next to a tux. Think of it this way - would you want the Queen to see you in that thing? So splurge on some black socks and a dress that doesn't show the tattoo you accidentally got in Mexico during last year's spring break.

Beware the Sherry: When you arrive, you will find a large group of people crowded in what looks like a plush living room.  Don't be daft. This is not where dinner will be served. This is just an opportunity for everyone to mingle in a close setting, comment on other people's clothing ("Oh yes, I think that dress is lovely! It covers your tramp stamp so nicely!"), and get tipsy on what I can only describe as nail polish remover served in a decorative bottle. Don't try to keep up with the pros. Sip, sip, sip. In fact, I recommend just pretending to sip. Then, you won't have to pretend your face doesn't want to crumple with every acrid taste.

Stand at Your Seat: Once dinner is called, you may take your time looking for your place setting. Don't gawk and don't read all of the names out loud or call to your buddies about where they are sitting. This isn't Chuck E. Cheese. When you do find your seat, act happy about who you are sitting around no matter how you feel about them. You're about to embark on a magical, four hour journey with them and you don't want anyone spitting in your port. Stand at your chair until someone says grace in Latin. Then, you can relax.

Act Like You Know Which Fork Does What: Nobody actually knows which fork is assigned to which course and so nobody will draw attention to the utensil you choose to start your dinner with. Just act natural and keep your elbows off the table.

Don't Be "That Guy:" Let someone else drink too much wine and start accusing other dinner guests of prostitution. It's much more entertaining to be a spectator than to be the one actually falling out of your chair.

Pass the Port: After you've consumed your weight in four delicious courses, it's time for toasts. It is customary to always toast the Queen first, just in case she shows up at the last minute. Then, people may make speeches and toast other people in the room. Then everyone but that person stands before that person makes a speech. For example, I might say, "I do love Oxford in the springtime. The beautiful weather (here here), the sounds of crying from the library (here here), and the Mexican restaurant on St. Michael's Street (HERE. HERE.)! Spring always reminds me of Sir Lord Walter Muffykins because he embodies the fresh air of a new year. To Sir Lord Walter Muffykins!" Now, everyone will stand, take a drink of port, sit back down and listen to Sir Lord Walter Muffykins make a slightly different speech about practically the same thing. The important thing to remember is that sitting and standing is the equivalent of riding one of those giant, circular swing sets at the fair when you've had too much port. So fake sipping is again suggested.

Agree With Everything: No matter what, look happy about everyone's toasts. It's just the right thing to do. And besides, think of all the people trying to keep straight faces during your boring toast. See, it's a true bonding experience, really.

Call a Cab: By now, you've had too much to drink. Don't embarrass yourself by telling anymore stories about your boyhood in the Alps. Hire a cab so you don't trip on your face. It's what the Queen would do.

After A Day of Wandering By Myself ...

Top Five Things I Saw:
1. A lock of Lord Byron's hair.
2. A letter written by John Keats right before he died.
3. A page of the original, handwritten Frankenstein manuscript.
4. Hertford College.
5. The Bodleian Library.

Top Five Things I Didn't Buy:
1. Every single book in Blackwell's.
2. Embarrassing Oxford merchandise.
3. Backless red dress covered in sequins (on sale and my size).
4. Shoes with giant, see-through heels that look like they could house a goldfish.
5. Food. At every single restaurant I passed.

A Tour

Welcome to 3 Ferry Hinksey!

You'll need a key to get in ..

.. As you can see, we have many locks.

Our new home: where coats are hung over the radiator with care. To the left is Rachel's room, and the second door to the left leads to the living room!

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Follow me through the living room, please.  I promise it will be decorated soon.  Don't you just love our fake fireplace? We have about five.

Turn to your left and you are in our lovely kitchen!

Katie with our first dinner :) And the bottle of wine that we STILL can't get open.

This is our broiler, which is next to the sink and above the washing machine (for clothes, not for dishes). The blue you're seeing is FIRE.

It kind of looks like people live here, right?

Now back through the living room and the door that is held open by a scale that only measures in "stones."

Now that we've gone up the stairs, you can see Michele's room, the half bathroom, and Katie's room!

This is the creepy hall closet, which comes before the full bathroom and my room.

Apparently, showers are a relatively new thing here.

If you pull the angel bear, the lights go on and off. When we walk out, my room will be to the right!

My windows look out onto the street.

It's hardly even messy yet! Brava! Also, check out my sweet fake fireplace. So cozy.

I definitely don't feel like I live here yet, but I haven't felt this much like a human being all week. Maybe because it was FINALLY sunny today!

I am constantly discovering differences between here and D.C. Crossing the street is such a task - no matter how many times I remind myself to look both ways, I never seem to be graceful about it. Traffic comes from all sorts of unexpected directions and drivers are noticeably aggressive. The director of my program told me that the driving tests here are very difficult because drivers are expected to be able to hold their own on crazy roads.  There really isn't even any traffic. Everyone just drives fast and takes sharp turns.

Today I wondered if it is appropriate to carry coffee in a mug from home.  I've never given a second thought to it otherwise, but there are so many coffee vendors and small shops that I wonder if it could be taken offensively. Plus, I haven't seen a single person carrying a travel mug. I suppose it's because no one needs a travel mug because nobody is rushing around. We have already been warned that our tutors and advisors may show up late on a regular basis. Most of them don't have their own email addresses yet. After recovering from the panic of finding how slowly some things happen in this city, I have become incredibly grateful.  I hope my time here will teach me to breathe slower. And to start sitting down when I eat!

I can't wait to get my cell phone tomorrow so I can start contacting other people here and get to know everyone better. Once I get my college ID card I can start eating in Hertford's dining hall and hopefully force myself right into British culture. Just kidding. But I would like to make some friends around here.

A Terrible But Necessary First Post Direct From Oxford

Ok, bear with me. It's been two very long days. Or has it been three?

Instead of giving you a lengthy narrative of my half-conscious journey over the Atlantic Ocean, I'll just give you a brief, down and dirty overview: said good-bye to parents (sad), said good-bye to cat (very sad), got on a plane (impatient), finally landed in London (exhausted), got on a bus (dizzy), got off the bus (confused), got in a cab (relieved), listened to the cab driver tell me all the best places to make "fit lads" take me on dates (amused), arrived at house (excited), opened door with SKELETON KEY (really really excited), met flatmates (delighted), took nap (zombie), woke up (achy), unpacked (satisfied), got back in bed (whimpering), woke up and it's dark (nauseous), chugged water (first mistake), decided to get dinner with beautiful flatmates (second mistake), began power walk in the freezing cold rain (not feeling so hot), threw up in neighbor's bush (unexpected!), apologized to extremely friendly flatmates (embarrassed), laughed it out with extremely friendly flatmates (comforted), walked to pub with even-more-lovely-than-before flatmates (shocked), watched a full grown man trip onto a piano while carrying three full pints of beer (less embarrassed), went back to flat and beautiful bed (slightly homesick).

Sorry, I hope that all of my posts won't resemble beat poetry. Obviously, you can tell my first day was far too glamorous for complete sentences.

Today was orientation, and though it was a very long day, I definitely feel like I am more informed about my living situation.  I also got a very "irreverent, light-hearted, satirical" overview on the Royal Family from a Politics professor who must be nothing short of a local celebrity.  He was better than stand-up.

My classes don't start for another week, but in the meantime, I have to attend formal dinners (bring it on) and learn how to access the underground library (and contain my squeals of excitement). I probably walked about five miles just today, but am really looking forward to just wandering around and getting hopelessly lost.  The only roads I have managed to work out are Ferry Hinksey (where I live), and the several roads that lead to High Street.  The streets here change names at every intersection, so it's going to take a while to memorize where everything is.  One of my goals is to avoid taking the bus as much as possible so that I get a lot of exercise and get to know the city better. We'll see how that goes.

I am also having trouble deciding if I want to try to join a club here. I'd love to do some singing, but obviously want to write only great works of groundbreaking literature for all of my tutorials. And go dancing more. A whole lot of us went out for Michele's birthday tonight and it was ... interesting.  British boys seem to be far more comfortable with their sexuality than American boys.  Or they are all actually dating each other.  Which is fine! And (I cannot tell a lie) pretty hilarious to watch.

It's definitely bed time.  I have some serious grocery shopping to do in the morning!
Was this post too personal? Do I really care what you think?  Oh well, hopefully I will actually keep this blog up and it won't join its five other deceased blog siblings.

Well, until next time, chums!