The Big Race

All that hard work rowing finally paid off -- I made the "A Boat" for our first regatta, the Nephthys Regatta!! I was beyond excited. I had an absolute blast preparing for the big day (all the girls got matching socks with Linacre colors). We got to the Isis River an hour or so early to warm up and get our boat to the starting line. I had butterflies as we got in place for the race and they started calling the "Attention!" instructions so that we would square our blades for the start. And then, we were off! We were strong and steady the first race, and completely killed the competition (poor ladies of Wolfson College!) You can see the video here -- it was just ridiculously cool. I'm the third seat from the back (the power seat! aw yeah. which should be comical for anyone who has seen my "muscles.")

So we made it to the second round. Our second race, however, was a little messier. The New College girls were tough, and beat us by half a boat length. They went on to win the race, however, so we couldn't feel too terrible about it. That was probably my favorite experience in Oxford thus far. Competing in a rowing race for my college made me feel incredibly proud and like I was really a part of a team. I've missed that.

Our "A Boat" Crew (Lila, Tamara, Alyssa, Melissa, Hannah, me, Franciska, and Erica -- in seat order!) holding our coxswain (Daniel).

Check out those socks!

Our crew before the race...

Hanging out at the Boat House.

The second race -- look how close it is!

We celebrated that night by hanging out in the Common Room for refreshments and going to the Celler. And on Sunday night, we watched True Blue, a movie about the Oxford-Cambridge Boat Race... we did this to psych ourselves up for the HUGE Christ Church Regatta which starts on Wednesday of Week 7!!! I'm SO excited!!! Stay tuned...

Week Six - rotary, meteors, particle physics, and bopping...

Week Six - here goes...

Monday started with a trip to Newbury where I made a presentation to the Newbury Rotary Club. The 39 club members (all male save for one police woman) made me feel very welcome. Chris, one of the Rotarians, picked me up from Oxford and took me to the beautiful Donnington Valley Hotel for the meeting (where I might have had a quick cider in the lobby, thanks to Chris, to calm the nerves). The meal was fantastic and the conversation really fun (they wanted to know all about Florida and alligators and hurricanes...) and the presentation went well. And then, another Rotarian, Tony, kindly drove me all the way back to Oxford. After getting lost only like 4 times, we made it to the dorm. My sense of direction has not improved since crossing the pond.

On Tuesday, I spent 30 minutes at 9:30pm in the dark, freezing English outdoors waiting for a meteor shower. It is quite possible that my British friends played a little trick on me telling me that there was going to be a fantastic meteor shower that night -- I started to wonder about this when I started to loose feeling in my fingers. Needless to say, no meteors shot through the sky. For a brief second, I thought I spotted one, but alas, it was a plane.

On Wednesday, I went to a ridiculously cool dinner at New College. A bunch of Linacre College students had dinner with a group of New College students as part of a "college exchange dinner." We met at their bar for some port wine (so classy! I felt slightly out of place in my fishnets), where the conversations revolved around (no joke) algebraic geometry and sub particle physics. (I mostly did a lot of head nodding and "ohhh"-ing, as, shockingly, I have fairly limited knowledge of subatomic particles. Funny, I must have missed that class in law school.) After the interesting convo, we had a gourmet meal in their 13th century dining hall. I'm not exaggerating when I say it looked just like the Harry Potter movie. See below for yourself. It was unreal. After a few glasses of wine, particle physics made so much more sense.

On Friday, I hit Kellogg College's "Glitter and Glamour Bop" with some friends. (see pic below). Good times.

Before I go, I have a few more items to add to the "you know you're back in college when" list:

1. At least once a week, you stay up all night long to write an essay. No matter how much I plan ahead, it seems to happen each week. I figure if I can stay up all night bopping, I can stay up writing.

2. You are sharing a combo washer/dryer with 9 other people so you no longer have the luxury of taking the washer/dryer time to dry your clothes. Hence, your space heater is covered in wet underwear.

3. The dorm shower is so small that you can't bend over to pick up soap without risking severe head trauma on one of the spouts. Our shower is quite similar to a cruise ship shower, sans the rocking. (Interestingly, I also feel like I'm on a cruise ship when I'm in the Sainsbury grocery store -- whenever the grocery guy announces a sale item, it sounds like the ship captain announcing the midnight buffet on the lido deck.)

4. You spend a few hours sitting on a mat in the gym, being silly and gossiping with your new girlfriends. So fun. I love college.

Week Five - tea, sculpting, dancing, date night, and pub quizzes!

Week Five -- we're mid term! It is flying by WAY too quickly. I just want to freeze things right here...life is too good. Let's see, during week five, I had some unbelievable experiences.

On Monday, I had traditional English afternoon tea with Jola at The Randolph Hotel (see picture above) -- this amazing old hotel with the best tea and biscuits in town. They gave us each our own pots of tasty tea and then served a three-tiered platter of sandwiches, desserts, and scones. My eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when I saw this. Yes, I ate every layer, to the point that I actually got sick (so I missed most of dinner at the University Club) -- but it was sooooo worth it. I still dream about those desserts (along with the mall sales, in pounds. *see last post if this makes no sense.)

On Thursday, I went to a clay modeling class at Christ Church College art room. I can't describe how surreal this was. I climbed about 92 stairs to get to the tower of Christ Church (built in 1546, where they filmed a lot of Harry Potter) and entered the art room which resembled an attic. The centuries old ceiling was wood painted with murals and college crests. There was a pile of clay waiting for me at a desk, and all the desks were placed in a big circle facing towards the middle of the room where a large table was placed. The teacher, Sue, welcomed me to the class and reassured me that I needed no prior sculpting experience, so I took my seat and waited. What happened next was, well, unreal. Sue hopped up on the table and started discussing various poses with the other teacher, Peter. At that point, I realized that we'd be sculpting an actual person. The clay modeling class brochure advertised that it was "from a life model", which I thought meant we'd be sculpting things we saw in life. (i.e. I had thought they'd put a pot or something on the table and we'd replicate it.) I had no clue it meant we'd be sculpting a person. So, when the model arrived, stripped, and laid completely naked on this table, in the preplanned pose Sue settled on, about, oh 3 feet from my desk, I held my breath and tried not to move so that my utter shock wouldn't show. "Oh my gosh- she's totally naked" is all I could think for the first 10 minutes. I felt bad looking directly at her, but then Sue came up to coach me and noticed that my little clay pile looked nothing like the "curves of the model" (as she so eloquently stated), so she started pointing to different body parts to help me see the lines, and thus, I was forced to look up. I'm sure I turned beet red and started to sweat, especially when she told the lady next to me "you're focusing too much on the nipple." It took all my strength not to burst into laughter; I basically choked on my gum instead. Once I relaxed, I had a fantastic time working with the clay, and I think my little naked lady sculpture came out quite good. It's being fired right now, so I don't have it back yet, but I imagine it to be very life like. Let's just hope the head doesn't fall off. (It already did once during sculpting, hence the concern. I must have been focusing too much on the nipple.)

I must not have been horrible at this sculpting thing either because Peter, the Christ Church art fellow, offered to give me tutorial classes on oil painting. I cannot wait to take him up on this. Taking oil painting classes from an old artist in the tower of a 15th century building is just, well, a dream.

On Friday night, Linacre turned the Common Room into a Blind Date show, where some lucky ladies and gentlemen got the chance to interrogate three people of the opposite sex, that they couldn't see, to decide which they would like to take on a free date. It was pretty hilarious. Afterwards, we all went to The Bridge, a pretty cool club with less sticky floors than Kukui. The next morning, we went for a traditional English breakfast. (see below) Eggs, ham, sausages, tomatoes, smothered with cheese and baked beans. Mmmmm. Nothing says breakfast like baked beans.

On Saturday, Will and I went out for a fabulous dinner (best in England yet!) at Jamie's Italian. (It's one of Jamie Oliver's restaurants.) We had yummy bruschetta, veggie salad, chips (garlic french fries), pumpkin risotto, and spicy sausage pasta. I loved every bite, so much so that I couldn't even make room for dessert (which means I was extremely full -- see above scone-eating incident). Then we went to see a (terrible) movie, 2012, at a really cool old movie theater. We sat in the fancy seats in the balcony area where you can pretty much sprawl out on the comfy couches. Perfect date night.

Finally, on Sunday, we went for a walk in the huge park next to the dorm. This is where I tried out the waterproofness of my new wellies as I jumped in the duck pond. Also, another very exciting event, we ordered groceries online from Tesco for the first time. Now I don't have to bike with 50 pounds of raw meat and baguette on my back. On Sunday night, we went to Far From the Madding Crowd, a really cool pub nearby. They had quiz/curry night, so we ate some fabulous curry (round two of my curry adventures, this time with more manly curry) and then participated in a pub quiz. Basically the only questions we got right involved Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston, and AK47's -- so sad. Our team, Good Times, finished second from last. We considered that a total victory.

Week Four...clubbing and bonfires

Week Four was crazy busy as usual (in a great way though, as usual). Highlights included a Crew Dinner on Friday night and Bonfire Night on Saturday night. For the crew dinner, the Linacre Rowing Club got together with the Wolfson/St. Cross Rowing Club and we went to a great little indian restaurant for some delicious curry. (This was my first curry experience -- and I loved it! I have to admit that the crew said I had the "wimpy" curry, but I have to ease myself in! You can't go full curry in your first sitting.) Then we went over to the Wolfson College Bar for some pool and chillaxing. (We also exchanged lessons on American v. English lingo -- e.g. I taught them what pinky-swearing is and what it means to give someone a run for their money, all over a shoddy game of pool where these phrases/actions came in handy. I had no idea how many solely American phrases I used until then when I noticed that, at least half of the time, people had no clue what I was saying.) And then, I had my first Oxford Club experience at Kukui. Once I crossed the club threshold, it was as if I transported to Miami -- it was full of American pop music, plastic palm trees, 15$ drinks, and sticky floors. The only real difference I noticed was the hour-long coat check line. (I've never had to check a coat before!) As the ladies checked their coats, I was in disbelief -- they were actually wearing Miami-style strapless dresses under their huge coats. I have no idea how they didn't freeze their butts off on the way there. Next time I'll know to dress a little fancier and then just pile 9 coats over it. Bye, bye huge bulky sweater. It's Kukui time.

Oh yes, all the ladies (and some of the guys, scarily) painted their nails Linacre colors. (Our rowing blades are yellow with black x's.) My fingers look like little oars. So hot. After seeing my nails, I understand why we had to go to 8 different stores to find one that sells yellow polish.

We also went to Bonfire Night or Guy Fawkes Night. It's an annual celebration in England where they celebrate the night they stopped Mr. Fawkes and other conspirators from burning down Parliament. They do this by lighting bonfires (and, quite morbidly burning a statue of poor Mr. Fawkes) and shooting off fireworks. We went to the town celebration which had a carnival complete with rides and games (we shot a cross bow -- awesome!), enormous bonfire, 14,000 pounds of fireworks, and some delicious sausages and fudge (a strange, yet delicious combination). After that, still craving food apparently really badly, we stopped at one of the many Greek food van's that are parked all around the city center late at night, cooking meat barehanded right out of the van, just waiting for the hungry partyers that can overlook the swarms of flies, gloveless food-preparing, and towels that are used to wipe the food prep counter, and, good lord, the floor. Yes, we were those people on that night. I haven't been able to look at hummus the same since.

Yasmine and me warming up by the bonfire.

Hanging out at Magdalen College after the festivities...

This week I also saw my first English movie in an English movie theater. We saw An Education. It was really neat since the movie was about a girl who goes to Oxford, so we were watching scenes in Oxford while sitting in a movie theater, in Oxford. You can appreciate its beauty even more on the big screen. It was around this time (after seeing the movie) that I started having dreams in pounds (as in, I would have my familiar dream where I enter the mall and everything is on sale and I go insane, but instead of checking out pricetags in dollars, that's right, they were in pounds). Since I know they say people really learn a language when they start dreaming in the new language, I'm going to take these new dreams of mine to mean that I'm really acclimating to my new culture. Now if I can only start putting x's on the end of my emails/texts (everyone here does it, and I still can't figure out if it means x as in a person's signature or if it means kiss like xo does - but that seems like an awful lot of emotion for a text; I'm just not comfortable putting a potential kiss mark at the end of a text about what time lecture class is. call me crazy), then I'll really be British!

Goosebumps at Evensong

Play the above video while you read this -- you won't be able to see anything, but you can listen. We went to Evensong at New College during Week 3. Evensong is basically a mass in the beautiful college chapel that is sung. So, 20 young boys and some older men sing together instead of the priest reading everything. It was unreal. You heard the young boys' voices - they sounded like angels - as the echoes bounced off the wood-paneled engraved seats and marble statues, and you smelled the burning incense. The chapel was dark, lit only by candlelight, so you saw shadows bouncing off the ancient sculptures. It was impossible not to be overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience and feel something spiritual. When they started singing, I got goosebumps.

Outside the Church.

Stonehenge!

We woke up the morning of November 1 to the sounds of a hurricane outside of our window -- Winter had arrived (conveniently on the day of our Stonehenge trip). The wind was literally howling outside, the trees were bent over sideways, and it was pouring buckets of rain. Determined not to let the weather pooh-pooh our plans, we forged on to the rail station on our bikes, in our rain jackets, in this hurricane, to catch our train. We now understand why people have rain pants. Our jeans were so wet it looked like we just jumped in a pool -- and they stayed that way, for the next 5 hours. Our daytrip started off with a (wet) bang!

Stonehenge!

Will pondering the henge...

All of our British friends warned us not to make a special trip to see this "pile of rocks", but we couldn't help ourselves -- it's Stonehenge, for goodness sake. So, needless to say, we weren't expecting much. I don't know if it was the low expectations or the sheer majesty and mystery of this place, but we found Stonehenge to be pretty darn awesome. Just knowing that those stones have been there for over 4,500 years and thinking about how the heck the men of that day got them there, is well, unbelievable. When the sun snuck in between the massive stones (for the maybe 10 minutes of sun we got that day), it was just beautiful. You can actually tell which month it is by looking at which stones the sun shines through -- very cool. Well worth the trip (or at least the trip getting there, wet butts and all -- getting back is a totally different story, to be told shortly.)

We also checked out the cute city of Salisbury. Salisbury has a huge, beautiful cathedral which was built in the 1200's. It has the tallest church spire in the whole UK and the oldest working medieval clock in the world. We spent a lot of time walking around the church grounds, admiring the early English architecture, and checking out the old paintings and sculptures inside. Then we went for a fabulous meal at The Haunch of Venison -- a 1320's pub with creaky, crooked floors and much charm. It was such a great day.

Until we tried to leave.

We got a painful introduction to the weaknesses of the English rail system as we arrived for our 9:30pm train home. We had four connections, none of which we made. Each train was delayed - punctuality is apparently not a trait of the rail system. We missed the first connection, waited for an hour for the next train, missed the second connection, and then waited for two hours, outside at a bus stop, in the dark, in the rain and freezing cold, for a transfer bus to the next rail station, that never came. The rail company finally gave up on their bus at 2am and just sent a cab to come get us and take us directly to Oxford. A one-hour trip turned into a six-hour quest. Still though, when I got into bed at 3:30am, knowing that I had to get up in 2 hours to hit the river, I was happy we took the trip to see the pile of rocks.

Salisbury Cathedral

The view from inside...totally gorgeous.

While walking around the cathedral grounds, I captured this completely spontaneous, unplanned shot of Will, deep in thought about cathedrals, no doubt.

The Snyders in Salisbury.

School is Cool.

My class - Pythagoras, Eunsook, Shuo, Michelle, Zulaa, me, Jennifer, Hubert, Mutaki, (and Amita is taking the picture).

I had to write at least one post describing how ridiculously fantastic my professors are here. Seriously. I'm really enjoying my classes, and they are probably the main reason why. My supervisor, David (still not totally comfortable calling these esteemed, brilliant Oxford professors by their first name, but I'm trying), took his four supervisees (that includes me!) out to lunch this week at Kellogg College where he is the Dean, to discuss our dissertations and life in general. It is just so neat to have a professor take so much interest in your learning and progress. It would be impossible for us not to succeed (or at least pass!) with his guidance. Also, he decided that we could have a tutorial class instead of a regular lecture class for the next few weeks (since we are learning about the English educational tutorial system -- which involves meeting with a professor one-on-one or with a couple of students, the way all Oxford undergraduate students do it). So, four of us met in his office to discuss the reading for the week and the essays we wrote (we write an essay each week on a topic from our reading). What an opportunity to have such a small group discussion with a leading researcher/professor in the field. I learned more that week -- during the preparation for that intense tutorial and during the tutorial itself -- than I had in all the other lectures I attended. And right after, David made tea, so we drank tea and ate homemade cookies that my classmate had baked. What an experience.

My other professor, Hubert, is equally as fabulous. Aside from giving us interesting projects and having interactive discussion classes each week, he even took the whole class on a walking tour of Oxford, just to show us around. And, he took us on a class field trip to Littlemore to see where Cardinal Newman lived, studied, and wrote. We studied Newman's book The Idea of a University, so it was pretty neat to learn more about his life and see where it all happened. After the tour given by the nuns who live at St. Mary's (including having tea and biscuits in Newman's study and praying in his chapel -- too cool), Hubert sat with us at a pub until the bus came. The two vivid memories I have of that evening were hearing New Kids on the Block blast in the 15th century pub and then running to chase the bus as it started to take off without us. Luckily, my shiny wellies are easy to run in. The bus driver must have heard my shrieking or the banging of my frozen hands on the bus as it drove off, because he actually stopped for us. I was a hero to my classmates who couldn't run as quickly. (They weren't wearing wellies.)

Jennifer, me, and Michelle with the Cardinal.

Having tea and biscuits in Newman's study.

Reading Newman's book in his study...

Standing outside of the Divinity School next to the Sheldonian.

The dining hall at Jesus College.

Jesus College est. 1571.

The library at Exeter College est. 1314.

Week Three, in all its glory...

I didn't quite understand what people meant when they said "term time is really busy" until now. The last few weeks have been a flurry of lectures, essay writing, reading, rowing, circuit training, rain, gale-force winds, fresher's flu, bops, pubs, and scone eating. in that order. each day. Honestly though, life is good. I am having so much fun living the life of an Oxford student that I pinch myself each day to make sure it's real. Okay, enough mushy stuff. I'll give you the low-down of what I've been up to...

Week Three was busy. Hit Turf Tavern, White Horse (a tiny old pub right on Broad Street downtown, which swears it has the best fish-n-chips -- erroneous), and the Quod with the dorm crew who continue to provide us with daily entertainment. (I especially get a kick out of our neighbor who calls himself "Lord of the Worms" due to his previous job in worm retail. According to him, this is a big selling point with the ladies. And I quote, "The ladies love Uncle Stav.") This week was also Halloween, which culminated in St. Anthony's College "Halloqueen" Bop where everyone dressed in drag. I wish I could say that the costumes and such were unique for this holiday, but people dress up in costume pretty much every week here for the themed Bops, so it was just another excuse for girls to bust out the glittery dresses/heels and for guys to express their masculinity through guy-liner, fishnets, and animal print lingerie.

I went to yoga for the first time and surprised myself with my flexibility. (Although, I admit being surrounded by 10 guys in class that apparently had never tried to touch their toes before helped; they made me look like a bendy genius.) I think that my first yoga experience was probably not the norm though. i.e. It can't be "normal" for people to fall asleep and snore (no joke) during the laying down poses (I'm sure these poses have some special zen-inspired name like "laying-down-dog" or something, but I haven't mastered hip yoga lingo yet) or for people to blatantly fart (again, no joke) in the middle of an om. (For those of you non-yoga-ers, an "om" is that slightly bizarre chanting thing you do to "center yourself". Om-ing just makes me want to chuckle. It does not, however, make me want to fart. Newsflash for all you male yoga newbies - it shouldn't make you want to either.) So, all in all, yoga was a good, smelly workout.

I did a lot of rowing on the water, erging on the rowing machines (finally learned not to knock myself clear off the seat -- apparently, I was a little overeager in my pulling the first few sessions -- the seat flew one way, my butt, the other... now that's not embarrassing or anything), and sweating at circuit training (the workout that still kinda makes me want to vomit). When that alarm rings at 5:45am and its raining and the wind is so strong it's throwing things at my second floor window, I can't lie -- I look at myself in the mirror and say "Really?" I am literally putting on 8 layers of clothes (I counted) -- including jackets, gloves, scarfs, hats, (yes, multiples of these items) and rain gear (oh, and spandex! something I never thought I'd wear unless required by an 80's Jane Fonda halloween costume) -- to the point that I am unrecognizable; I just look like a big poofy ball. You could punch my gut and I wouldn't feel a thing. Then I get to the river (after running or biking with Henry, and if I'm really lucky, with a huge cox box hanging around my neck if I get drafted to carry it for the day), lift the boat out of the boathouse with the other 7 girls and put it into the water (which is tough when you can't really move your arms), get in the boat and have freezing cold water thrown at me from multiple angles. Ah, the joys of rowing. I know what you're thinking: "V, you are freaking crazy." Yes, I see your point, and I agree. But, when I'm out on the water (and can actually see, during that 5 seconds in between the chunks of water that are thrown in my face) and the swans float by, and the coach, who is yelling instructions/critiques from the bank, yells "5 (that's me, we go by numbers) is the only one who has the stroke down", I feel a joy inside that makes me forget the pain, my dripping wet pigtails, the oh-so-unattractive callouses I got from the oar, the bruises from the smacking of the cox box against my back, and the fact that my pants are now soaked to the point that my butt is frozen.

Oh yeah, and it's definitely getting colder, rainier, and darker now. There was one day that the sun came out -- I remember it fondly. I stood in the middle of the street at Norham Gardens before class and just stared up at the sun, holding my arms out to get maximum surface absorption of Vitamin D, turning my face like a rotating desk fan. It was lovely. Those sun sightings are few and far between now. I have officially packed up my sunglasses -- won't be needing those puppies. The clouds always manage to dim the sun, and then it gets dark at like 4:30pm. The streetlights actually never turn off. I am adjusting to this darkness, and am slowly purchasing more clothing to deal with the cold/rain. In fact, I finally bought a sweet pair of shiny black "wellies." They are definitely waterproof (which I discovered as I tested them out in a duck pond) so at least my calves will stay dry during the next monsoon. I am now looking for rain pants, so that every inch of my body will be covered with shiny waterproof material -- soon, I'll be able to jump into a pool, fully clothed in this get-up, and not feel a drop. As an added bonus, when I get mud all over me, Will can just hose me down. English weather - you have met your match.