We're Back!

Technically, this past week was supposed to be used for reading and research and studying... but everyone knows that never happens.

Mary and I found ourselves in Italy--walking around ancient ruins in Rome and Ostia Antica, wandering down narrow streets and over bridges in Venezia (Venice), and becoming frustrated at the untimeliness of a strike in Padova :) (Don't worry, we got to see St. Anthony all right, and made it back to Venezia in time for supper)

Nonetheless, we made it back in one piece to Canterbury--but not without some cultural grievances towards the Italians for their wild queue jumping :)

Seriously though, being in the UK has had some effect upon us. As Mary stated in this post, queue jumping in England is almost a criminal offense. Not so in Italy. In fact, I might be so bold as to say that if you don't queue jump in Italy, you're weird.

Now, even though the Italians might seem rude at times, you have to forgive them because THEY HAVE SOME OF THE COOLEST RUINS!!!!! Ostia Antica in particular:


Mary and I had tons of fun walking around this ruinous city--there were tons of mosaics and frescoes still intact!! It was just cool to stand in the weeds in what used to be a house and say "Wow! Somebody actually used to live here!" And that reflection, of course, makes you think about who the people were--what did they do in their everyday lives? what were their problems? what did they hope and wish for? Domestic drama :)
Though of course, my Dad had to somewhat crush the coolness of the place by saying that it was probably mostly reproductions, and not originals... whatever, it was still really cool!

Our parents joined us for our week in Italy (for those of you who didn't get the memo) which had numerous financial advantages... such as eating out in a very nice restaurant after viewing:

But I think the Vatican deserves its own post...

Cheers!
~Laura

P.S. We will have to get back to you about Dover, Windsor, Oxford, Bath, Bristol and Stonehenge...sorry...

Arrivederci, Roma...

Self-explanatory...




...pictures and stories to follow :)

Yeah...we kind of forgot we had a blog

It's been quite a hectic past few weeks with travel, research, reading, more travel, and essay writing going on around here (and in various parts of the UK). So, gentle reader, forgive the lack of something to read.

Since last we communicated, we have been to Dover, Windsor, Bath, Stonehenge, Bristol, Lacock...and more.

There will be good stuff to read soon...as soon as I finish my VERY IMPORTANT essay. Speaking of which...I should get back to work.

Later,
--Mary

Tales of Education…

Ok, I haven't written much about the education system here…other than the fact that it is different from back home. VERY different.

Basically, each class meets once a week in a two-hour long seminar (which includes a ten-minute coffee break in the middle). Some (rare) classes meet twice a week. I have already described to you the ordeal we had in signing up for class. To refresh your memories, we were called up one by one and asked which classes we wanted to take. Then the person handwrote it out and handed you a copy with the times those classes are supposed to meet. If those classes even exist.

Oh and all the classes don't start the same week. The higher the level, the later it starts. We had one class start in week 4 because we sneaking in on part of M.A. program for Children's Lit.

You see, the tutors for those classes look at the demand and choose the classes they wish to teach…not necessarily the ones you signed up for. That is precisely what happened to us. We signed up for a certain Victorian Literature class. The head of the American Studies corrected our schedules and gave a different room number for our class. That was fine. On the day the class was supposed to start, we wandered around campus trying to find the right building. We got lost, so we asked our friends to security guards to help us out. They call us the Terrible Twins :) One of them looked it up on his computer while we listened to a discourse between the other guard and a British student about some lass who left her lad and how he came back and painted all the walls in her house black, so she had a black house. "And I bet you've never heard the like," he said. They think we are very funny and constantly teach us about local history. They made sure that we went to see the witch's stool on the River Stour. Anyway, we got the right room for our class and went on our way.

The door said Victorian Literature, so we went in and got good seats. At the start of the lecture, the tutor announced that it was on modernism. We both froze. Every time he said the word Victorian, we jumped. It was a very interesting lecture on the disintegration of art in the period, but we were almost too stunned to take notes.

After class, we spoke to him and well…to cut a long story of emails and searching…we got is figured out. We went to the American Studies office and got in the right class (on a different day, and different time). We missed our first class. That's just the way they roll around here.

If you think our problem was annoying, I know other people with worse problems.

Such is the English Education "system."

Our Children's Lit class is fun though. The professor is a "very nice bloke," as one of our other tutors put it. He never looks at the class during the lecture, but stares constantly at the ceiling. You guessed, he never sees anyone who wants to make a comment.

I'm not so sure about this, but I don't think British students raise their hands to make a point in a small discussion group. I've not seen one do it so far. Not like I have many classes with British students. Of the two classes that are supposed to be with Brit students, only one is made up of mostly Brits (two other Americans). In the other one, the Americans dominate.

Oh, and homework…doesn't really exist. Whatever you want to learn, you study. Sort of… You are not required to learn every single thing that the tutor teaches you. You focus on a certain area intensely in an essay and a written exam. That's your grade right there. No participation grades, no little assignments…one big paper. I'm a little unnerved about it myself.

Better go study :)

Cheers!

--Mary

The Ethics of Queue Jumping

I really should go to bed...but if I do, we'll lose our readers.  Not good.  Here's a little something to tide you over until I have time to write stuff.

A few days after I arrived in the UK, I went to the help desk with a friend to ask a question about the internet access in our dorm.  Unlike the previous times I had been there, there was not a crowd around the desk, so we just stood behind the last person who was being helped and patiently waited our turn.  Just as the person in front of us was finishing, a lady behind me tapped me on the shoulder and politely asked, "Are you in the queue?" Then, after seeing my shocked expression, she added, "well, because I am."  Just then, my friend, who was oblivious to my discourse with the lady behind us, stepped up to the desk and quickly solved our internet problem.  As we left, I could not help but feel we had just done something awkward.

This, my friends, is known as jumping the queue.  It is FROWNED upon. Severely.  Which is why I include my next little tale:

Another time I went out to a shop to buy a cell phone and stood in what I thought was the queue.  Suddenly, one of the other registers opened.  Since I thought I was next in line, I moved over to the new register, but then was quickly informed that, no, I was not in line and that two girls who were standing behind me were next.

After these two incidents I felt confused.  In the first situation, I clearly made a blunder.  I should have realized that there was a clear queue designated by ropes.  It is very understandable why the lady behind me was upset.  She had probably been patiently waiting for her turn to get her question answered.  In the second situation, I felt frustrated that I did not understand what was going on.  I thought I was obeying their rules by paying attention to the queue. The situation seemed similar to other incidents I had experienced.  I guess I felt that I was right and the natives were wrong.  But as we all know

"When in Rome, do as the Romans do."

Right. I knew that.  In America, we only frown upon cutting in line if the line is a very clear one, which explains why I felt frustrated and confused in the second incident.  The British seem to have a very good memory about who is first in line and they all adhere to it.

The Moral of this tale is: Look before you leap. 

Couldn't resist that one :0)

Cheers!

--Mary

What we did this weekend, in just a few words

On Friday, we,
hopped on a train, realized it was raining, got too stubborn to take a taxi and walked to Arundel Castle, in that process got soaked, warmed up at the castle with a good cup of soup and the fluffiest blueberry scone EVER, dried off by the fire, toured the Keep and got wet again, chatted with one of the guides who told us a story about Al Capone (don't ask me why, they just love to tell stories), marveled at the library (I wish I had one just like it), toured the gardens, got wet again, broke Laura's umbrella, met the gardener, got a private tour of the kitchen garden (we got to taste the world's best cherry tomato. Don't you just love it when the sign says, don't pick, and the person you are with gives you permission to do so), saw the biggest apples on earth, got wet again, found Arundel Cathedral, got wet again, found our hotel and tried to dry off for the rest of the evening. My shoes are still wet.

On Saturday, we,
had a good English breakfast (sausage, bacon, hash browns, beans, eggs, baked tomato, and sauteed mushrooms), hopped on a train to Portsmouth, saw the HMS Victory, hit our heads on the HMS Victory (it was built for short people), saw the Naval Museum, saw the Mary Rose Museum (yeah, we were about sick of ships by the end), saw the HMS Warrior, got lost on the HMS Warrior, went shopping to buy Laura a new umbrella and hopped on a train home.

Nelson never would have got himself shot if he didn't wear such ostentatious stuff and stood on the middle of the deck. Just saying.

Our class schedules got figured out. Now I have a whole book to read by Tuesday. (This whole saga requires its own post).

Cheers!
--Mary

Arundel

Sadly, during our visit to Arundel Castle it rained all day – so we didn’t get a good look at the gardens (and no pictures were allowed inside the castle) but here’s some of the shots that I did get:

Arundel is the coolest castle ever, don’t you agree?

What makes it even cooler is that the Duke of Norfolk (I think the current duke’s name is Edward Fizalan-Howard) is Catholic. For a Protestant country, that is HUGE! The Duke of Norfolk who was alive at the time of Bl. John Henry Newman, supported the Cardinal in his endeavors and perhaps visited the castle - we weren’t sure, because we couldn’t read the reply letter (they had this really cool display with letters and such from Bl. JH Newman to the Duke and his family, promising prayers and such for the Duchess, etc– it’s like he’s been following us around this entire trip!!)

The building in the back is Arundel Cathedral (the Cathedral of Our Lady and St Philip Howard – St. Philip is a relation of the current Duke of Norfolk…I think)

This is a cool crown fountain thing that we came upon…

We also went to Portsmouth, but I think I’ll let Mary tell you about that one.

Cheers!

~Laura