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.

Week Two - in pictures...

Christ Church College (est 1546)

Magdalen College (est. 1458)

The Dining Hall at Magdalen.

More Magdalen.

All Souls College (est. 1438)

New College (est. 1379 - apparently, it was "new" at the time)

Me at New College.

They filmed a scene from Harry Potter here.

We saw these people punting during our visit to the Botanical Gardens.

Let's see - during week two (Oct 19-25)... I attended more classes, ate lunch at Lady Margaret Hall, met some Rhodes Scholars, toured the city a bit (hence the pics), and learned what "nackered" (i.e. tired, used a LOT to describe how you feel your first two weeks of classes) and "duffers" (i.e. slackers, used nicely in the following sentence by flatmate Matt: "They [Oxford] work you hard in the beginning to get rid of the 'duffers.'" ...and that's why I'm nackered) mean. I played numerous battles of (what I have come to call) Stair Wars, where I, wanting to walk on the right side while going anywhere (up or down stairs or a street, making biking a bit dodgy), play an accidental a game of chicken with the person coming towards me on the stairs, who is following the proper British way of walking on the left. Finally, I took a swim test for crew which involved me jumping and swimming in the (freezing) pool, fully clothed, along with 700 other "freshers," all at the same time. Awesome. (And I missed the memo about wearing a more-practical-for-English-weather one-piece suit -- I had the only bikini in the complex. I thought I had gotten away with my faux pas, since I skillfully hid it under numerous layers of clothing, but when I got out of the pool, sopping wet, my brown bikini practically glowed under my white t-shirts. So busted.) Next week, I plan to find a way to soften my pillow (even if it involves running over it with Henry a few dozen times) and I plan to learn how to use the washing machine/dryer so that it doesn't do this to my clothes anymore (see below clothes shrinkage). Big plans, big plans...

You know you're in college when...

This is the start of (hopefully) a series of posts in which I describe occurrences that remind me that, yes, I am in college once again. So, here goes: you know you're in college when...

1. You tape a dryer sheet to your ceiling to rid the stank from your dormroom.

I knew you wouldn't believe me unless I included photographic evidence.

2. Your flatmates describe your hairdryer and brita water filter as "luxury items."

3. The official college-sanctioned Friday night event at the dorm is Power Hour. (Mom, if you're reading this, ask Bobby what this is. He'll know, fo sho.)

4. Your feisty Greek neighbor has to speak to the college principal about a bop-related tree peeing incident.

5. The dilemma of the evening when hanging out is which bop to attend. (This Friday night's quagmire was resolved with an appearance at St. Cats College "Angels and Demons" Bop -- there's nothing quite like jammin' to Snoop in the dining hall of an Oxford college.)

6. You spend an entire day hunting down the 134 ladybugs that snuck in your room when you opened the window for some fresh air (see stank problem, supra note 1), or you spend an hour searching in the street like frogger for the bolts that mysteriously exploded off of your Henry during a detour on a cobblestone road (he took a hit, but thankfully it was not his time; he was still awesome sans bolts, but has been fixed by the talented bike chaps at King Cycle), or you spend a random Wednesday evening at a pub (like King's Arms, see below), with your new flatmates, drinking cloudy cider (curiously stronger than regular, fyi), laughing, and discussing important topics like bops, brita filters and hairdryers.

I do crew!

So I joined my college's rowing team (i.e. crew)! THE cool thing to do in Oxford is row - people here want to be on the rowing team in the same way that guys at UF would kill to play Gator football. All the colleges have rowing teams and they compete against each other (the first race being the Christ Church Regatta next month for all the newbie rowers -- people say it's a disaster, boats ramming into each other, into trees on the bank, because none of the new kids have a clue what they're doing -- I so can't wait!), and the "first team" for each college competes in races around the UK, and then the really good rowers join the Oxford University varsity team (varsity is called "The Blues" here) and they compete against other schools, like Cambridge. It is a BIG deal - like people fly in from all over the world to watch the Boat Race in London on the River Thames between Oxford and Cambridge (which they've been doing since 1829!) Although I'll just be watching that Boat Race (unless it turns out that I'm some kind of crew prodigy, which is highly unlikely given my first few experiences in the water - see below), I will be rowing for Linacre's newbie team, likely ramming the boat into trees.

I got my first taste of rowing this week, and I am now concerned about my longevity on the team. I had to be at the boat house at 7am, which meant waking at 6am, bundling in 19 layers of clothing (to the point that I couldn't keep my arms down), borrowing Will's enormous rain jacket, and hopping on Henry for a dark, wet, scary ride to the river. I kept repeating "this is insane" as I peddled through town, rain seeping in the raincoat from all the massive openings (I've since gotten my own), one hand on Henry's handlebars and the other on my head to keep the raincoat from catching the wind and flying off my head, likely sending me airborn. Once I got there and got on the river though, it was amazing (and so I deleted the "I quit" text I had prepared for the team captain). We watched the sunrise and rowed alongside of swans, with huge (labrador-sized) geese flying overhead. So, I'm gonna try to tough it out, especially since I know competing in the Regatta will make it all worth it. The rowing practices, circuit workouts (some of the "moves" come straight out of P90X, so thanks to Dave lending me those DVD's I'm a pro at the jump squats!), and erg sessions (on the rowing machines, which were gym machines that I always skipped past on my way to yoga) are exhausting, but satisfying, even though I'm waking up each morning unable to move at least one different body part. So many things are creaking on me now that I have to make noise in the library when I move just to drown out the sound of the popping/cracking of my annoyed joints. But again, it will all be worth it. I just better see a lotta freaking swans this week.

Bringing sexy back, via sub fusc.

After Matriculation, all of us altered our sub fusc in preparation for the Oxford-renowned Linacre Sexy Sub Fusc Bop. I didn't believe the rumors until I saw it for myself: students literally started lining up in front of my college an hour before the doors were going to open at 9pm (and keep in mind here that normally no self respecting student would go anywhere before 11pm, so being somewhere at 8pm meant it was major). 300 students, dressed in their version of "sexy sub fusc" (which mostly entailed topless dudes, probably just because that was the easiest "costume" to create) standing outside, in a queue for an hour, in 35 degree weather. What a scene. When the doors opened at 9, so many people flooded in that they reached max capacity and anyone who queued after 8:30 was stuck outside, in the cold, and rain, most likely topless. Once inside it was a mass of sub fusc, cider, live bands, dancing...and foosball.

My flatmates, pre-bop.

Bustin' a move.

The next night, all my flatmates got together for a floor potluck.

(discussion centered on sexy sub fusc scandals - like the brave chick who apparently taped just the gown to herself as her costume)

We worked up an appetite with all that bopping.

Big V tolls the bell...

Me, "mom," "dad," and dad's bro at a Rotary meeting...

I made my first presentation this week to my host Rotary Club -- the Rotary Club of Bicester. It was a really fun night -- I met a bunch of insanely nice Rotarians, told them all about myself in a lovely powerpoint presentation, and ate a delicious English meal. Aside from accidentally tossing my fork across the room while eating, I'd say it went well. I can pretty much guarantee the poor Rotarian sitting next to me won't make that seat-choice mistake again. (He found my stray fork. I tried to play it cool and said "who put that there!" but to no avail. I was busted. He saw me fling it apparently. And he wasn't buying my explanation that it's an American tradition to fork toss during a good meal. I also tried to convince him that it was our tradition to let dinner guests (i.e. me, in this situation) eat the entire dessert tray. No dice. He totally blew up my spot. Those Bicester Rotarians are a sharp bunch. Next time I'll come prepared with actual table manners.)

Also this week I attended the Rotary District Welcome Rally at a soccer (ahem, football) stadium. Now this really was a blast. All the scholars did a sort-of speed dating, rotary style. Every time the town crier (see below pic) rang his bell (every 3 minutes!), we'd have to switch dinner tables and introduce ourselves to a new Rotary Club. At the end, they had to guess, by listening to some descriptions of each of us (e.g. "This scholar won a calf-tying competition at the rodeo" and yes, that's me), which scholar was which. Of course the highlight of the event was when the town crier dressed me in his hat and gave me his bell to ring for one of the rounds.

The hat looked better on him. I just look like a pirate.

I'm a Matriculator!

Well, it's official: I am a member of the University of Oxford. Despite paying them an inordinate amount of tuition fees and starting classes, I was not "officially" a member of the University until Matriculation. Matriculation is an event where all the students dress up in sub fusc (you'll love these pics), go into the Sheldonian Theater (a ridiculously beautiful old - 1644- building designed by Christopher Wren - also see pics below), and listen to the Vice Chancellor speak some Latin and then welcome us to Oxford. I'm not gonna lie, it was pretty freaking cool to participate in this tradition. There is something so special and mysterious about this place and its traditions. I dig it.

The Sheldonian Theater

Approaching the Sheldonian...

The view once inside...

Me and flatmate Kine during the ceremony...

And after...

In case you're curious what the ceremony was like (sans the Latin part, so you won't fall asleep)...

Week One - Oh that's right, I'm here for school...

I thought the first two weeks were a flash, until Week One (Oct 12-18, or the first week of CLASS!) rolled around. Then I knew I had it easy those first few weeks of unpacking (and repacking all my bikini's and flippy floppies), getting settled, and attending daily dorm social events (generally involving going to the common room for (a) free food (b) cider (c) dancing to Jay-Z spun by our British DJ - who has never heard of Flo Rida [travesty] which I learned when I tried to request my tunes - while clothed in the evening's theme costume). Week One was insanely hectic. I attended my first three classes, which means I did hours of prepping for them (i.e. reading tons of books on the reading list, writing essays, and putting together powerpoint presentations - already!) I learned all about the educational systems in China, Mongolia, and Korea from my fellow students, and told them all about the US system and the fabulousness of law school. (Fab being used loosely here.) Then we got to know our teachers a little better during our Wednesday tea time. We literally take a break every Wednesday in the middle of class to have tea and biscuits - now this really deserves the "fab" title. Digestive biscuits in the middle of class. Ah, Oxford -- I love you. And I was shocked when my teacher literally sat down next to all of us students on a stoop to chat and biscuit eat with us. I'm not used to that informality - it was so nice and refreshing. I was so excited about attending class this week that I was even on time; wait, let me rephrase... I was not only "on time," but I was the first one there, at least for my first two classes. For those of you that know me well, you know this is highly abnormal and thus a major accomplishment for the V. Fear not though, I haven't totally changed yet -- I quickly ruined my "on time" record by day 3. I ran in to class late thanks to a fun British rainstorm that conveniently started in the middle of my walk -- I entered class looking like I had just hopped out of a pool. Good times.

My life in pictures...

This is the view from one of our dorm windows...

Linacre College toga party.

(The only time a grad student would happily wrap himself in a purple shower curtain for public viewing.)

Fresher's Fair

(The chick in the furry outfit is promoting the Costumed Choir Club.)

This is the park I walk through each day to get to class.

Did I mention the cider?

Henry I looking hot.

Henry posing with the drain pipe to which he is securely locked.

My first purchase: a raincoat.

(Yes, it's bright yellow -- so that bikers won't hit me.)

Boyce Avenue concert in London...

Will backstage with the band.

Sightseeing in London...

The city of Leicester...

Hanging with the Lord Mayor of Leicester.

Week 0 - Welcome to Hogwarts

North Week or Week 0 (which is what they call the week before school starts, Oct 5 to 11) was full of orientations and Fresher's (which is what they call new students) Week events. I had induction (or orientation) at the Education Department on Monday and Tuesday where I met the two professors for my main two classes, Hubert, who teaches policy discourses and historical perspectives, and David, who teaches student experiences and changing academic practice. I also met the professors for my third and final course on the foundations of educational research. All I can say is that I'm going to be a LOT busier with coursework, projects, reading, exams, and writing than I had ever anticipated. I know though, that I'm going to learn more than I ever anticipated as well though, so it should be worth it.

Fresher's Week was kicked off on Wednesday with a Fresher's Fair where 400 different clubs set up tables at the Examination Schools in an attempt to attract new members. There was a club for basically any activity, subject area, sport, religious or political affiliation, or ethnicity that you could imagine (i.e. artificial intelligence society, experimental food society, gliding club, korfball club, armenian society, rock choir club, punting club, table tennis society) and they blasted techno music (which was strange in such a grand, formal venue) and gave away free pizza and coffee (again, free food works every time).

Our college also had events every night -- everything from a comedy night, to dinner with our college mentors, to a toga party (no, I'm not joking -- Linacre students brought sexy back, Greek style), to a charity auction (where people in the college auctioned off their special talents for charity. Highlights of the auction items for bid included: a massage, tennis lessons from someone on the Blues (i.e. varsity Oxford team), a date with the Common Room President, liquid nitrogen ice cream (from one of the chemist PhD students), a picture of your brain (from one of the medical PhD students), a look at the planets through a sick telescope (from one of the astrophysicist PhD students), and "bondage tips for lovers" (from one of the weird students). Sorry in advance, weird dude, if you're reading this.

This week, we also had our first fancy Harry Potter-like dinner! All students are required to dress in "sub fusc" for all formal dinners, events, and even our exams. For guys, this basically means a black suit and white bow tie, and for girls, this means white shirt, black tie, black skirt, black tights, and black shoes. Oh, and both sexes have to wear a black gown and mortar board style graduation cap. The outfit is quite hilarious. I'll be sure to post pictures of that because you won't believe it until you see it. Anyways, we all dressed up in this gear and had a fancy dinner in the dining hall with our advisors and fellow students. Even though it sounds corny, it was pretty neat. (Side note: Every college has a Bop, which is, I think, like a prom-ish dance with a live band and themes, so people go in costume. The Linacre College Bop, which is next week, is apparently the most popular in town, with people lining up hours in advance to ensure admittance. The theme? Sexy Sub Fusc.)

The rest of this weekend will involve barbecues at the college, an open mic night where everyone can display their skills (if they didn't already auction them off at the charity auction), pub hopping with our flatmates (lucky for us, our flatmate Chris happens to know all the pubs in town in depth), and sign-up/tryouts for all of our college's sports teams. I'm thinking about trying cricket, but I'm going to research the injury stats on that first. And I signed up to try rowing, which is the biggest sporting competition between all the colleges. I don't think I have the determination it takes to be on the team (i.e. to get up every morning at 6am to practice, on the water, even in the winter), but I definitely want to try to row myself at least once down the river without tipping and plunging myself into the frigid Oxford water. Classes start next week, so I best enjoy myself now before the madness ensues...