Hello All!

Week two in London and I feel like I’ve been here two months already.

Tour of Westminster Abbey on Monday, during which it rained in typical London fashion while all my classmates grumbled under weeping umbrellas about how Blacksburg's weather had followed them across the Atlantic.

I liked St. Paul’s better, in all honesty, because in Westminster Abbey our tour guide mentioned the royal wedding every five minutes along with unrelated, gruesome facts inserted at random moments:

“And here is where Kate and William entered to say their vows… and on your right are the tombs of Bloody Mary and her sister, Elizabeth.  Sibling rivalry at its best, in my opinion! Anyone care to guess which one beheaded the other?”

Although there was an interesting part in the Abbey called Poet’s Corner, in which a lot of famous poets, playwrights, and basically the best writers are buried/remembered: Jane Austen, the Brownings, Chaucer, etc.

Poet’s Corner actually gave me an idea for a project here. In addition to completing four other assigned projects, we get to choose our own personal project. And, since we are mostly English majors with creativity akin to a hyperactive squirrel bouncing and bounding around in our cortexes, we jumped at the opportunity.

I decided to take famous poems from the famous poets buried/remembered in Westminster Abbey, keep the opening and concluding lines and the internal structure, but change the majority of the internal wording into my own work. Example below:

Original Work:

Sonnets from the Portuguese 43 by Elizabeth Barret Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

My Version:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee with the light and color and sound

My heart can feel, when seeing the wonders

At the ends of this world and the next.

I love thee to the expanse of the night’s

Most endless dark, by the stars and the silences.

I love thee luckily, as men strive for Hope.

I love thee endlessly, as they turn from Time.

I love thee with a soul put to use

In my past pains and with my present faith.

I love thee with a love I never seem to lose

With my lost griefs, -- I love thee with the spirit,

blessings, trials, of all my life! – and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death. 

It was a lot of fun to write this poem. Also not a lot of effort – which is absolutely an essential attribute of any work I do in college :)

Monday night: we went to Blithe Spirit, a play about a man haunted by the ghost of his first wife, to the immense displeasure of his second wife. It was great. I thought it portrayed the relationship between men and women very accurately. For instance, the second wife was furious about the whole ordeal, while the husband took on an injured, hopeful look when telling her that it was quite an interesting situation and they should make the most of it.

How many times, I ask you, has a woman deemed something profoundly wrong while the man is blissful and content with the situation? (Basically flat? Inside joke to family members.)

Internship on Tuesday, which was quite nice. Despite pushing at doors that needed pulling to open (and vice versa) it was actually a lot of fun. I was there for five hours (8am-1pm) and it felt like 20 minutes; the time flew by in a blur of adorably accented, uniformed children, aged five to six, who found me most interesting.

Teacher: “So we are soooo lucky. Miss C has come here from far away just to be here with us for the next five weeks-”

[Thinks to self: well, that’s not entirely true… there’s the shopping, and the tours. And the food, and the shopping. And the studying- wait, no let’s be serious here and omit that. Also, Chunky’s been enjoying himself immensely in London…]

“- and she’s come here from a very, very long way away. Can anyone guess where she is from? Has anyone heard her accent?”

[But I don’t have an accent, you all do! I wish I had an accent. Must work on that. Note to self: add ‘developing accent’ to to-do list.]

“She’s from Australia!” pipes up one of the miniature English people, the collar on his shirt uneven and poking his ear.

[I am? Where on earth did he get that? I can’t even attempt an Australian accent except when imitating the narrators on National Geographic.]

“No, not from Australia,” I say, enunciating my non-accented accent.

“AMERICA!” yell the other 29 students, with such enthusiasm it would appear they were from there themselves.

As enjoyable as the internship is (and I am having so much fun there despite the labyrinthian layout of the building), the children’s names are insanely diverse and complicated. At my last internship, there were 16 children in the class with names ranging from Alex to Katie to James. In this class, there are 30 children. There is one Sarah, but there is also Amour, Suheila, Azhar, Oumaamah, Jibril, and Abdirahim. I kid you not- all the names are like that. In my notebook, I’ve written how their names sound with hyphens to help with pronunciation. The teacher will say one of their names and I’ll jot down notes like “Pigtails, tendency to craw under tables” “glasses- looks like Harry Potter” and “the one always getting yelled at.” I feel awful that I don’t know all their names yet, but I’m only working 15 more days there. By the time I figure them all out- putting unfamiliar faces to names I haven’t even figured out how to pronounce- I’ll be leaving for America!

What is nice about the internship is that the teacher is giving me free reign. The building used to be two different buildings: a primary (elementary) school and also a nursery school. Now the building is combined, so they have toddlers as well as students all the way up to year six, which is like our fifth grade. I’m in year one, which is like kindergarten. The teacher said if I ever get too bored in her classroom (full of tiny English uniformed children who ask me if they can run to the loo or throw their tissue in the litter bin!), I’m welcome to go around to other classrooms- even the nursery! So tiny, stumbling English toddlers or talkative English kindergartners?

Too. Much. Cuteness.

Full walking tour of Bath on Wednesday: It was an audio tour of the Roman Baths, so you go around with a radio, cell phone look-a-like thing attached to your ear while entering buttons on signs to hear the history of whatever sight you’re currently looking at. First there was the introduction spiel:

“Welcome to Bath, an area with 2,000 years of history rooted in mystical goddesses and ancient waters” or something to that effect yada yada yada tune out tune out tune out- “for the childrens' tour, type in the numbers on the orange signs and allow your child to experience the wonders of the ancient Roman Baths through an interactive and entertaining tour, complete with fictional characters and games.”

Hmmm. Tune in, tune in, tune in.

I looked around furtively. My fellow classmates and professors were looking down at the baths with pensive stares while listening intently to their no-doubt educational and informative adult tour.

Making sure no one I knew was looking at me, I typed in the number on the closest orange sign with such stealth that I may have well been entering my pin number.

“Welcome! I’m Polonius from a few thousand years back and I’m one of the people in charge of taking care of the Roman Baths, a place to kick back and relax with hot water and good company. Come join me, and I’ll show you around! Do you see that model over there by the wall? Can you spot all the men in green tunics? They help keep this place clean for everyone. Enter the number of green tunics you see into your audio phone, and I’ll tell you if you’re right. And after that, I’ll introduce you to my good friend, Titus, and he’ll tell you all about the people who built this place by crushing and carving huge rocks!”

Best tour ever, I thought to myself, and made my way to the model of the baths so I could play I Spy with the men in the green tunics.

But the best best best part of the day happened before the tour of the baths. We had a few hours to kill before the tour, so Amanda and I went to the Jane Austen Museum (yes, yes they have one!!) which indulged all the different parts of me: the English major side of me, which devours everything book-related; the Pride and Prejudice fanatic side of me, which gravitates towards anything Mr. Darcy-related; and the romantic side of me, which adores all things love-related/tragic/containing period dresses.

And afterward, Amanda and I had tea. In the cutest little tearoom I have ever seen. We had crumpets with cream and jam, along with a special Jane Austen tea brew. And our table was UNDER A PICTURE OF MR. DARCY.

I told Amanda that this could only be made more perfect and cute if tiny kittens were rolling around with balls of yarn by the table legs.

The London Eye on Thursday night (tonight): If you haven’t seen the London Eye, it’s a Ferris Wheel roughly four miles high, which sways dangerously above the Thames River while its riders clutch desperately at its flimsy structure of loose screws and wires.

Okay, maybe not. But I have a fear of heights, people. Try to sympathize.

I first saw the London Eye last week. I waved carelessly at it and declared that it was the most frightening ride I'd ever seen and that I would never ride it in a million million years, not even if you paid me and that I was so glad I wasn't going to ride it and-

"But we are going on it," replied Tahn, looking surprised.

Pause. Blink. What?

"Next Thursday, I think," she said. "...you look worried. Everything okay?"

Flash-forward to tonight:

“I feel like I’m going to puke.”

“What did you have for dinner? Oily foods are most likely to come back up again.”

“Oh thank you, Sarah, that’s very encouraging.”

“What did you have?”

“A pita wrap with hummus, salad and olives.”

“Oh boy.”

“AHHHH. Who put this on the itinerary? Where are the Janes? I want to talk with them.”

“Monica, we’re still in line, calm yourself.”

[mutters to self] “I should have brought Chunky.”

Tahn appears. “So. How are we doing?” Cue encouraging smile and sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Sorry about what I said last night by the way.”

Sarah: “What’d you say?”

Me: “Oh she showed up in my room while I was complaining about having to get up at 6am four days in a row, and she was like ‘Well cheer up! We have the London Eye tomorrow!’ At which point I buried my head in my pillow and she said, ‘Oh… were you the one that was scared of heights?’”

Well, I didn’t throw up, or pass out, somehow, which was encouraging. It took far too long to make a full rotation though. And they didn’t stop the ride when you had to get on! The wheel just keeps going and you have to jump from the landing into the giant glass capsules while the whole thing slowly rotates. Someone in the group shouted “MIND THE GAP” when we all jumped across.

I still need to get that T-shirt.

Scotland this weekend, during which Sara and I will be touring Edinburgh, which you know, just happens to be THE PLACE WHERE JK ROWLING LIVES. No big deal, just saying. I’ll (God willing) be having coffee where she WROTE THE FIRST DRAFTS OF HARRY POTTER. ON NAPKINS.

Life goal complete.

And of course, pictures of this past week below!

 Travis, the seagull that Amanda and I fed most of our lunches to while narrating the whole event in Australian accents as though we were on Animal Planet.

 The Jane Austen tearoom :)

 Mr. Darcy, who joined us for tea!

 The most adorable tea table, complete with crumpets.

 The entrance to the Roman Baths, looking up, obviously.

 The Baths. I spy... tourists!

 Prettifulness at the Baths.

 Squinty eyes. It was sunny.

 God being awesome.

 More prettifulness. If you look closely, there are ladders on this building with angels climbing to heaven. The guy that built the place saw it in a dream and created it... Yes, I do occasionally listen to our tour guides.

 It really was beautiful in Bath.

 Pictures of Chunky upon request! Here he's wearing a Fez cap thing that Sara bought.

Chunky minus the Fez. 

 The Fez again! Plus this Dr. Whoo screwdriver thing that has no relevance to me but Sara's obsessed.

 We have potlucks every week, which are surprisingly good. Who knew college students could cook?

Right before The Eye. 

 Tahn and I right before the Eye.

 On the Eye. Proof I was there!

 "Monica, pretend to freak out, you know you are already!"

Flushed and trying not to pass out. It was rather frightening at times and I was one of the first people off. I'm glad I went though; I didn't want to chicken out.

All of us!

 Tahn and I. I feel like a giant next to her. She's like Chunky's height. 

I'll be without internet for the next few days while in Scotland because I'm not taking my laptop, so don't freak out if I don't respond to emails until Sunday night!

Love you all!!!